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“I want you,” I said. “Let’s go back to my room.”
“You want me?” he asked.
“Yes. Let’s go. Come on.”
Then, just when I thought the night was going to end perfectly, Ben crashed right onto the dance floor and headed right at us.
It was that slow motion moment in every movie.
You know when you hear the heroine yelling, “Noooooo,” but it sounds like she’s under water.
When something terrible is about to happen, like a grenade was tossed into the air and it’s too late to stop it so all everyone can do is stand there and watch with terror-filled eyes.
Ben was coming straight for us. He had a hand over his mouth. Jill stopped him just in time before he bent over and puked on the dance floor. I jumped back and it missed me, but splashed a few others dancing.
“The fuck!” somebody yelled.
“Yo, what the fuck’s wrong with you?” somebody else asked.
I yanked my dress down before anyone could notice.
“Oh my God,” Ben said, with his hand still over his mouth. “I don’t know what’s wrong. I think it was the shrimp earlier. Or the enchiladas.”
“Oh babe,” I said, as I let go of Valentino and hugged Ben, putting his head on my shoulder.
I’m so going to make you pay for this, Benny.
“Can you guys help me get back to my room?” he asked.
I looked back at Valentino, hope draining from my gut like the juices flowing down my thigh. This night was shot. I wanted to kill Ben, but he’d help me if I were in this situation. He actually did the night before.
Valentino leaned in close to me. “Take care of your friend.”
I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to punch someone.
Mostly, I wanted to fuck Valentino.
“Let me take him back to his room and then you can come to mine,” I suggested.
“It’s okay, really. You help your friend. But you have to promise to meet me at the pool tomorrow at 7pm. I want to take you to a party.”
Oh but why…why…why!
My internal bitch was throwing a temper tantrum but I forced a smile and nodded.
“7pm. By the pool. Are you sure you don’t want to come back to my place?” I said.
“Mandy, if your friend ate something bad in Mexico, he’s going to need all the help he can get tonight. Trust me.”
He leaned in, took my face in both of his hands, and kissed me on the lips. I melted into the kiss, opening my mouth and searching for his tongue. I found it and sank into it, our mouths eager to keep this night going on course while our bodies were busy pulling us apart.
“Tomorrow, 7pm,” I repeated.
Act 3 – The Blue Balls
If a girl could have blue balls, mine were navy that night. I slept in Ben’s room, silently resenting him each time he jumped out of bed to spew his guts. Really it wasn’t Ben’s fault.
Bad shrimp was the reason for my aching vagina. Not Ben.
