He’s right. And at least if I send them a photo, it will balance out the stalker-y feeling I’ve had, staring at their faces all week. I scroll through my camera roll, trying to find a picture that’s decent enough to send them. I finally decide on a selfie Ronnie took of the two of us on my camera. I’m more in the background of it, but it’s not a bad picture. I crop it so I’m the main subject of the picture, then send it to them.
They respond with a group photo of all of them, with a message saying,You have two photos of us now. You should even things out.
I giggle at that. This could become a truly ridiculous game if I choose to let it, and the idea isn’t unappealing.That’s a tomorrow problem, I tell them, and set the phone down to get ready for bed.
Once I’m in pajamas and snuggled under the covers, I allow myself to imagine what, exactly, this thing I’ve agreed to will look like. Group sex? Or will they pass me from one of their beds to the next? Will they all watch, or will it be totally one-on-one? Will they touch each other, or only me?
No. I shake my head, shutting my own thoughts down.
I will not lie here thinking about four guys running a train on me. I haven’t even had sex with one guy, I have zero business thinking about having sex with four at once. Or four in succession. I promised myself that I would not let boys distract me from my studies and my work. Having sex with four different men would be way more of a distraction than I could ever have imagined.
Chapter Nine
The door to my room slams open, but I barely look up. I’m trying to focus on my homework, but my phone is sitting right next to my books on the desk and it’s all I can think about. When will I hear from the guys again?
Ronnie throws herself down on her bed and stares at me. Waiting.
After thirty seconds or so, she tosses her pillow at me to get my attention. “Aren’t you going to ask me how my night was?”
“Oh, yeah.” I give up on trying to focus on work and turn my full attention to Ronnie. “How did things go with Trevor?”
“So amazing!” Ronnie stretches her arms above her head and does jazz hands. Last night’s mascara is smudged under her eyes and her hair is thrown up in a messy topknot, but she looks happy. “He even made me coffee this morning, so I know he’s taking things seriously between us.”
“That’s awesome. Congrats!” I say it with as much enthusiasm as I can muster, but I must not be very convincing because she just rolls her eyes and holds out her hands for me to toss her pillow back to her.
“Okay, fine tell me aboutyournight. Did anything happen between you and one of those guys you were with last night? Who were they, anyway? And which one are you into?”
Yikes. Ronnie figured out with just a glance what I am still trying to wrap my head around. If the crush I’ve been harboring is that obvious to her from seeing me with them for two seconds, it’s no wonder they offered to help with my list. They probably picked up on something I wasn’t even aware I was putting down.
“Those were the Rubik’s Cube guys from my article.” I don’t want to tell her about their offer. I want to keep that close to my chest for a while. Maybe I should tell her—after all, she’s my best friend and she probably could give me some advice—but something in the back of my mind is whispering to me to stay quiet for now.
“Oh?” Ronnie’s eyes widen and she sits up straighter, settling in for a gossip session. “Oh. They did look kind of nerdy, but they are way cuter than I thought they would be for people who compete in something so lame.”
“It’s not lame,” I protest, offended on their behalf. I mean, yeah, I thought the same thing at first, but now that I’ve spent a little bit of time with them and watched them compete, I don’t think it’s lame at all. It was bad enough when my editor said it, I don’t like hearing Ronnie voice the same opinion.
She ignores my objection. “Well, you were vibing with them. I never see you chatting with guys, but it looked like there was something between you and at least the one in the purple shirt. That’s why I left you there last night. I was hoping you’d get lucky for once.”
I frown. I know I’m not nearly as social or experienced as her, but she knows why I don’t seek out relationships and hookups like so many other girls. Her saying she was hoping I’d “get lucky for once” is so dismissive of that, and it stings.
“But since you obviously seem to click with them,” Ronnie continues, shoving off her bed and gathering up her shower things, “maybe you should talk to them about doing another article about their whole cube thing. Don’t you have an assignment for one of your classes where you have to write a series of related articles? You could use the one your editor didn’t publish and then do some others about cubing. You definitely have chemistry with those guys. Maybe you can take that connection and make it work for you.”
“I did think about that,” I confess, setting aside my bruised feelings. “It would be a good series idea, and if it turns out well I can show it to Carl and maybe he’ll admit he was wrong about the cubingandabout me. I mean, he probably won’t, but it’s a nice fantasy.”
My phone vibrates with an incoming text, and Ronnie dives for it, snatching it off my desk before I can turn around.
“Are they texting you?” she singsongs.
I grab for the phone, but she dances out of my way, staying just close enough to use my face to unlock the screen and start reading the message.
“Invasive much?” I make a halfhearted attempt to take the phone away, but she spins and drops onto my bed. Accepting that she’s already read it and I can’t make her un-read it, I lean over her shoulder to see what it says.
We had a good time with you last night.
Another pops up.When can we see you again?
The third comes through right on its heels.Movie night this weekend?
And a fourth.We could come pick you up.
