congregated around him while he rocked-out, accompanied by prerecorded music on a boom box. He looked like a fossil and he was the worst drummer I’d ever heard. The erratic rhythm of his beats made me think of Jacob and Nina having sex. That’s when I decided to go over to Pete and Sara’s. They knew Nina. They could give me objective advice. Or at least tell me what she looked like.
When I rang the bell, Sara asked who was there, and she didn’t seem at all surprised to hear it was me, even though I’d never dropped in on them before. She gave me a strong, maternal hug. It made me hope she’d get pregnant soon. She was going to be a good mother, I could tell. Even if Jacob was going to dump me and get back together with Nina, and I’d never see Sara again, or meet her future gamine child. Our never-quite-blossomed friendship would become a casualty of a breakup.
Pete and Sara’s apartment was small. Their old wool couch had white stuffing peaking through the seams, the cushions on the dining chairs were plastic, and the window screens were fraying apart, but there wasn’t a thing out of place, and the gray carpet on the floor had recently been cleaned, I could tell by the way the living room smelled. Like a new car.
“Pete just went to your place,” Sara said. She shut the door behind me.
“Jacob called him?”
She nodded. I felt like I was back in high school. I hated high school, it was the most godforsaken four years of my life and the last place I wanted to return.
“Sara, what did Jacob say?”
“I don’t know. All Pete told me was that Jacob bumped into Nina today, and that you freaked out about it and ran off for no reason.”
“I didn’t freak out.” That was a slight exaggeration on Jacob’s part. He was a writer, and writers exaggerate. “Besides, maybe if he would’ve talked to me first, instead of staring embryonically at the wall, I wouldn’t have felt the need to freak.”
I offered Sara some popcorn. She took a tiny handful.
“What’s Nina like?” I said.
“A mess. And I’m not just saying that to make you feel better.” Sara said she’d heard Nina’s drug problem had gotten worse since she and Jacob broke up.
“She stopped by the salon once to ask about Jacob after he moved in with you. She wanted to know where he lived but I wouldn’t tell her. She was so strung out she could barely walk.”
“I thought she was a lesbian now.”
“That was just a phase.”
“Do you think Jacob still loves her?”
Sara gave good dramatic pause. “I’ve known Jacob for five years. I have never —and I mean never —seen him happier than he is now. With you. Do you want something to drink?”
“No, thanks.”
Sara opened a bottle of red wine anyway, and we polished it off over the course of an hour. Sara was brutally candid when she was tipsy. Her voice got squeaky. She talked about how badly she wanted to have a child—she started to cry, telling me about all the doctors she’d seen, and all the poking and prodding they did to see if she was working properly. They promised her there was no medical reason she hadn’t conceived yet. Then she said Pete had a small dick. She secretly thought that might be the problem, like the smaller ones didn’t have as much power.
“How big is Jacob’s?” she said, suddenly giggling.
“It’s normal,” I said. “Not too big, not too small. But he knows how to use it, that’s the key.” I told Sara about this special technique Jacob had. “Because he’s kind of skinny, he can get his pelvic bone, or whatever the bone is that sits above the dick, he can get that bone right up against me, and he makes these little circles, round and round, until I’m nearly about to come. Then he just starts drilling. It makes me delirious.”
“Pete can’t do that. He’s too chubby,” Sara said. She looked disappointed.
When Pete came home, Sara was putting tiny braids in my hair, and we were in the middle of comparing notes on
When I rang the bell, Sara asked who was there, and she didn’t seem at all surprised to hear it was me, even though I’d never dropped in on them before. She gave me a strong, maternal hug. It made me hope she’d get pregnant soon. She was going to be a good mother, I could tell. Even if Jacob was going to dump me and get back together with Nina, and I’d never see Sara again, or meet her future gamine child. Our never-quite-blossomed friendship would become a casualty of a breakup.
Pete and Sara’s apartment was small. Their old wool couch had white stuffing peaking through the seams, the cushions on the dining chairs were plastic, and the window screens were fraying apart, but there wasn’t a thing out of place, and the gray carpet on the floor had recently been cleaned, I could tell by the way the living room smelled. Like a new car.
“Pete just went to your place,” Sara said. She shut the door behind me.
“Jacob called him?”
She nodded. I felt like I was back in high school. I hated high school, it was the most godforsaken four years of my life and the last place I wanted to return.
“Sara, what did Jacob say?”
“I don’t know. All Pete told me was that Jacob bumped into Nina today, and that you freaked out about it and ran off for no reason.”
“I didn’t freak out.” That was a slight exaggeration on Jacob’s part. He was a writer, and writers exaggerate. “Besides, maybe if he would’ve talked to me first, instead of staring embryonically at the wall, I wouldn’t have felt the need to freak.”
I offered Sara some popcorn. She took a tiny handful.
“What’s Nina like?” I said.
“A mess. And I’m not just saying that to make you feel better.” Sara said she’d heard Nina’s drug problem had gotten worse since she and Jacob broke up.
“She stopped by the salon once to ask about Jacob after he moved in with you. She wanted to know where he lived but I wouldn’t tell her. She was so strung out she could barely walk.”
“I thought she was a lesbian now.”
“That was just a phase.”
“Do you think Jacob still loves her?”
Sara gave good dramatic pause. “I’ve known Jacob for five years. I have never —and I mean never —seen him happier than he is now. With you. Do you want something to drink?”
“No, thanks.”
Sara opened a bottle of red wine anyway, and we polished it off over the course of an hour. Sara was brutally candid when she was tipsy. Her voice got squeaky. She talked about how badly she wanted to have a child—she started to cry, telling me about all the doctors she’d seen, and all the poking and prodding they did to see if she was working properly. They promised her there was no medical reason she hadn’t conceived yet. Then she said Pete had a small dick. She secretly thought that might be the problem, like the smaller ones didn’t have as much power.
“How big is Jacob’s?” she said, suddenly giggling.
“It’s normal,” I said. “Not too big, not too small. But he knows how to use it, that’s the key.” I told Sara about this special technique Jacob had. “Because he’s kind of skinny, he can get his pelvic bone, or whatever the bone is that sits above the dick, he can get that bone right up against me, and he makes these little circles, round and round, until I’m nearly about to come. Then he just starts drilling. It makes me delirious.”
“Pete can’t do that. He’s too chubby,” Sara said. She looked disappointed.
When Pete came home, Sara was putting tiny braids in my hair, and we were in the middle of comparing notes on
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