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“They’re not sex-phobic. They just have very strict parameters.”
Jess held out her glass for a refill. “Yeah. Do it once, on your wedding night, in the dark, missionary style.”
“My parents did it three times,” Carrie said, obliging her. “Crazy hippies.”
“No one lives like that anymore. Don’t you wish we knew what they’d been like, when they were our age?”
“Ugh,” said Carrie. “No, thank you. In fact, let’s revisit the pod theory.”
Jess slanted her a look. “Speaking of sex-phobic, looks to me like the Virgin Ice-Queen might be melting a little these days. Wanna spill?”
Carrie felt her face heat up.
“There’s nothing to tell. We’re going to the dance together. That’s about it.”
“Oh, please. I’ve seen that look. First time on you though. If you haven’t already had him, you want him. Tell the truth, Care-Bear.”
“Only if you spill about whatever’s going on with you and Damon.”
“Oh-ho!” crowed Jess. “I knew it. So the scary mountain man with the blood-thirsty hounds has another side to him. Do tell.”
“No way, you first. You want the pictures for Damon, don’t you?”
Jess stretched, then flung her long legs over the edge of the couch while someone on TV started to yodel the alphabet.
“Damon’s a great guy, as you know. Lots of fun. And he’s nuts about me, which is nice, considering everyone else thinks I ought to have an S for slut branded on my forehead. But it’s nothing serious. I’m only here for,” she did a quick calculation, then shrugged, “a few more weeks. He knows that.”
Her smile faded. Carrie suspected there was more to it. Jess and Damon had been so close all through high school, it had been a shock when they’d suddenly stopped speaking. Even more of a shock when Jess left town, and Damon acted as if he didn’t notice.
She suspected he’d been badly hurt and had hated Jess for that, for a while.
But Carrie knew as well as anyone that there’s always more to any story than the headlines. Whatever their past, she hoped that when Jess left this time, she wouldn’t leave a good man broken-hearted in her wake.
“Hey, you could do some sexy photos of me at the car wash, or bending over a motor,” said Jess, brightening. “Damon would love that.”
“Girly calendars in a garage,” said Carrie. “How cliché.”
Jess tossed a pillow at her. “Ick. You’re right. Not while that creeper Tony is around. No. Private photos. Your nice ones. A gift for him to remember me by when I’m gone.”
A faintly mournful note had crept into her voice and Carrie suspected that whatever Jess was telling herself about this casual affair, and how easily she’d be able to end it when the time came, it wasn’t the truth.
“You make it sound like you’re dying.” Carrie tossed the pillow back. “Drama queen.”
“Always. Now, your turn. What’s with you and Ethan Nash? It must be good. I’ve never seen you turn that particular shade of red.”
“Oh!” said Carrie. “Speaking of photos, you’ll never guess who sat for me yesterday.”
She was hoping to distract Jess, and it worked.
“Who?”
Carrie paused for effect. “Aunt Pansy.”
“No. Way!” Jess smacked the couch cushion with the flat of her hand. “I love that woman! Who do you think they’re for?”
“It’s just a pity thing, I’m sure. She’s trying to make me feel better about myself. But you know, if I look like that at her age, I won’t complain.”
“I’ll bet she’s got a lover.”
They giggled together.
“Lordy,” said Carrie, catching her breath. “I’m tipsy.”
“Yes, you are, my friend. Which is the perfect time to talk. So?” Jessica angled herself up on the couch and peered at Carrie. “Does Ethan Nash kiss as good as he looks?”
“Oh, Jess.” Carrie closed her eyes and shivered. “A hundred, million times better.”
Then, to her shock, she burst into tears.
