Page 11 of Fearlessly Us

Twenty minutes later, I’ve given them all my basic health information (once a month or occasionally every two weeks, a major organ in my body actively wishes me dead and that takes a toll), the date and circumstances of my last period (two weeks ago and terrible, thanks for asking), and a credit card number because of course the one doctor in the state of Pennsylvania who might be able to fix me doesn’t take insurance (please allow me to step up on my soapbox about the abysmal state of healthcare in this country in general, and women’s health care in particular).

When I finally end the call, I put all the appointment information in my calendar before setting down the phone and taking a long, slow breath, focusing my attention on my legs stretched out in front of me and my lime-green toenails that are bringing me a ridiculous amount of joy this week. I’ve barely finished exhaling when the door to my room crashes open, revealing a grinning Maya.

“Found her!” Maya turns her head and yells out the door before sauntering into my room and throwing herself on the bed, rescuing my bag of mini-Snickers from its spot shoved halfway under my pillow. “I knew you would have the good snacks,” she says with a mouthful of chocolate.

“Help yourself,” I say dryly, rescuing my laptop, legal pad, and favorite pens since I have a pretty good idea of what’s about to happen. Then I reach into my nightstand drawer and pull out a bag of salt and vinegar potato chips, tossing them at Maya, who prefers her snacks salty.

“I love you,” she says effusively, tearing open the bag. She reaches in for a handful but doesn’t get it to her mouth before Emmy and Sarah stroll in and flop down on either side of her.

“Why did you run away from breakfast so fast?” Emmy asks, catching the bag of Skittles I throw her. “Tyler challenged Drew to a sourdough duel, and five minutes later they were arguing about whose stretch and fold technique was better. Whatever that means.”

“It’s a dough-strengthening technique that helps develop the gluten in sourdough bread. It helps the dough rise higher and makes for a better internal texture,” Sarah says, grabbing the Resse’s Pieces I take out of my nightstand and toss on the bed in front of her.

Emmy snorts. “You know I wasn’t really asking, right? I just want to eat it. I don’t care how it’s made. I would rather be dead than bake bread from scratch.”

“Hard same.” Maya pops a chip into her mouth. “That’s what bakeries are for.” She slides her gaze to me. “And hot professional football players who enjoy baking in their spare time.”

“Why are you looking at me?” I ask, even though I’m almost positive I know exactly why she’s looking at me.

“Because you and Drew were making serious eyes at each other during breakfast.” I look up as Maddy walks in with Sophie right behind her.

I avert my gaze, extremely interested in rummaging through my nightstand to find Sophie’s and Maddy’s candy of choice. “We were not.”

Except it’s totally a lie because I definitely couldn’t keep my stupid eyes off him, and there’s no way a table full of these smart, perceptive women missed that.

“You so were,” Sophie says, sitting next to me against my pillows and taking the jelly beans. “What’s that all about anyway?”

It should be easy to tell them. To say the words Drew asked me out and then stood me up and I should hate him but for some reason I don’t and I don’t understand it and I definitely don’t like it except maybe I do like it and it’s all very confusing so can you help me figure it out? It should be, but for me, it isn’t. Because if I tell them now, I’ll have to explain why I didn’t tell them six months ago in New Orleans since they were all at the same club I was and I saw them five minutes after it happened. And why I didn’t tell them the night he stood me up. Why I didn’t call them to come over and eat junk food and bitch about why are men even and wipe my tears like I’ve done for all of them so many times.

I would have to explain to them what I can’t even explain to myself, and I don’t know how to do that.

So instead, I roll my eyes and yank my bag of Snickers from where it’s half stuck under Maya’s arm. “It’s about nothing. If I was looking at him, it’s because I was irritated about his inability to be serious about anything, ever, unless it’s fucking whatever swimsuit model crosses his path and posting shirtless thirst traps on social media.”

“I don’t know,” Maddy says thoughtfully, rolling over onto her stomach and propping her chin in her hands. “I think Drew is more serious than he seems. He and Cam have been best friends forever, and Cam told me that when his wife died, Drew was pretty much the only reason he got through it.”

My heart gives an involuntary and unwelcome tug at the thought of Drew holding Maddy’s fiancé Cam’s family together all those years ago the way Cam says he did. Because Maddy’s right, an unserious person wouldn’t do that, and I hate that I’m absolutely sure that, despite the fucking and the thirst traps, Drew is as serious as they come.

His eyes give him away.

But that’s a thought for another time. Or never.

I shrug, flopping back against my pillows. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t have time for hotshot wide receivers who think they’re god’s gift to women and the National Football League. Or any football players. Men in general, honestly.”

“Maybe you should make time for at least one football player,” Sophie says, elbowing me in the side with a sly grin. “Because seriously, wow.”

“Confirmed,” Maddy says with a nod and a matching grin. “Everyone should get to experience sex with a professional athlete once in their life. For science.”

Sophie laughs. “Who cares about science? You should get to experience it for the orgasms. So, so many orgasms. I don’t know how they do it, but the stamina?” She shakes her head, a dreamy look in her eye. “It’s insane.”

“Exactly how insane?” Maya asks, looking between Sophie and Maddy. “Be specific. No detail is too small.”

Sophie shrugs. “We had morning sex in bed, then in the shower, and then up against the bedroom door before we came down for breakfast. Three times in less than an hour, and if I hadn’t tapped out in pure self-preservation because I thought one more orgasm would literally kill me, Tyler would have gone another round. He was barely even breathing hard, and I felt like I had just run back-to-back marathons.”

Maddy nods. “I’m telling you, it’s the athlete thing. They’re bred for competition and that spills over into…every aspect of their lives,” she says with a grin.

“Shit, I really need to find myself an athlete,” Emmy says, tearing open her bag of Skittles and peering inside, shaking the bag around.

Sarah eats the last of her Reese’s Pieces, and I toss her another bag from my drawer. I have no idea how my room became our unofficial headquarters when we’re at the lake, but it’s been that way for years, so I got into the habit of stashing everyone’s favorite candy in here for just these kinds of moments.