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That’s the point at which I would like to crawl into a cave for a while so I can sit with my humiliation, because of course this is our fault, West and me with our door-slamming and our probably loud loud loud sex noises through the thin walls, and Bridget and Krishna out here listening for God knows how long.
How awful are we?
Totally awful. I’m not a good friend. They’re here to support me after my meeting with the administration, and I let them be sexiled to the living room to marinate in the discomfort of West’s and my grunting horrible coitus sounds.
If that’s even what they were doing. Marinating in discomfort.
I don’t know. I’m just thinking about the best way to sweep the whole thing under the rug—apologize? But how can you apologize for sex noises? I would die—when West takes the conversation in completely the other direction.
“Is this one of those things where you mute the TV and replace it with another soundtrack? Like watching The Wizard of Oz while listening to Dark Side of the Moon, except with My Little Pony and Caroline and me fucking?”
Author: Robin York
I punch him in the arm. “West!”
Krishna starts to laugh.
Bridget covers her face with her hands and buries her head in the couch cushion. I think she says something about Twilight Sparkle, but it’s hard to hear her with her mouth against the leather.
“Dude,” Krishna says. “That was epic. ”
“Right?” West is smiling in this way only a guy could—70 percent ego, 30 percent swinging dick. “I should get a medal. ”
“Do you guys want a ruler?” I ask. “You know, for measuring your penises?”
Krishna makes a dismissive noise. “He’d win. ”
From the depths of the couch cushions, Bridget makes this noise that’s like a scream crossed with a squeak.
“Do you want some ice cream?” I ask. Because that’s all I’ve got to offer. I don’t have one of those laser-gun things that can erase memories with one bright white pulse of light.
“Yes,” she says. “But only if you have the kind with the pretzels with peanut butter in the middle and chocolate on the outside, in the vanilla ice cream with peanut butter stripes. ”
“Chubby Hubby. ”
“Yes. Or I guess I’d take mint chocolate chip. But not that terrible stuff you had before with the fruit in it, because you know how I feel about fruit in my ice cream. ”
“Why don’t you come with me and see?”
She gets up. I expect her to climb over Krishna, whose leg is partially blocking the path between the coffee table and the kitchen, but instead she goes the long way around and doesn’t look at him.
“Twilight Sparkle, huh?” West says to Krishna. “Is that what’s got you two all hot and bothered?”
“No, it’s that picture your mom sent me of her in her panties. ”
“Oh, yeah? Was it as good as the video I got from your grandma last week?”
“Dude. Leave off my grandma. ”
“That’s what your sister said when she wanted her turn. ”
“Oh my God,” Bridget says. “Make it stop. ”
My head’s already in the freezer. I take it out to call, “Settle down, boys! You’re both pretty. ”
I try to sound scornful, but it’s hard to pull off when you’re smiling so hard that your cheeks hurt.
The week after Sex-Picture Day is crazy.
