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I heard the sound of a flush, and then water running in the sink. When he opened the door, the stench of shit stopped me in my tracks.
"You might want to wait a minute to go in there, dude," Ted said, "Had to take a major dump. I left the fan on for you."
"Sure, Ted," I said, backing away from the door.
He was wrapped in a large gray bath towel, his hair still sopping wet. I couldn't tell whether the towel was supposed to be gray or just really needed to be washed.
"You okay, dude?" he asked as he passed by me.
"Sure," I replied.
He stopped and sniffed. "You get laid?" he queried, looking me over.
I was struck with the thought that he could just as well have been a disapproving cabbie, were it not for the smile on his face.
"Well, sort of -- yeah," I answered.
"Who was it?"
"Oh, a girl I used to know in school," I said nonchalantly, trying to evade further discussion.
I wanted to have my shower before the police arrived. Surely the aroma of crap had dissipated from the bathroom by now. And, if not, I knew where to find a can of Lysol under the sink.
"Really?" he asked. "Was it that girl that called yesterday afternoon?"
His words stopped me in my tracks. "What girl?" I asked.
"Well, a girl called saying she went to school with you. Said she wanted to talk to you. Said she was having a problem and you were the only person she trusted to help her out." Ted hesitated as he saw the expression on my face.
"Go on," I said.
"It sounded important, so I told her where you'd be watching the game," he continued.
I let out a gasp.
"Well, you're the one who's too cheap to buy a cell phone. You sure you're okay?" Ted asked.
Ted's revelation had stunned me. So it wasn't happenstance that Holly had run into me at the sports bar. She had sought me out! She knew all along that I WAS THE ONE she wanted to help her through her sick dilemma. I WAS THE ONE SHE WANTED TO TAKE HER CHERRY!
That was the good news. But was there bad news? Had she truly changed her mind and tried to back out? Had I actually raped her? In a court of law, I would be guilty as charged. But in the court of Holly's mind and heart, where did I stand?
"Dude, you need to sit down," Ted encouraged, "you look like you're about to pass out."
I took his advice and allowed him to guide me to the couch. I sat as Ted went to the kitchen to pour me a cup of coffee. "Here, take this," he said, handing me my java.
Ted went to his room to dress while I drank from the cup. The coffee helped with the hangover but not with the nagging fear.
I finished up and headed toward the bathroom. Ted passed me in the hall. "I'll be back tonight," he said as he headed to the front door.
As I showered, I thought about a myriad of possible interpretations and outcomes from the night before. I lingered in the stream of hot water, wishing I knew the answers, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst.
After drying off, I dressed slowly, still thinking. I was just going to the kitchen to find some food when the doorbell rang. I felt a wave of panic. I was sure it was the police.
When I opened the door, Holly stood in front of me, looking directly into my eyes. She looked radiant and beautiful, but her state of mind was unreadable.
"You left this at my place," she said, handing me my Red Sox cap.
"Thanks," I replied, my brain still addled.
