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When I was a kid, I hated it. Then, I understood. Now?
Well, I guess none of us really understood.
"Are you decent?" Imogen's sister calls with excitement.
"He is." Imogen looks up at me and sends a wave. "Sorry."
I wave back.
Imogen's sister drops the hands she has over her eyes. "Boo. No fun."
"Don't even," Imogen says.
"Hi, Patrick. I'm Julie." Julie waves. "Were you two having sex when I texted?"
"Sleeping," I say.
"Sleeping off sex?" she asks.
"Sorry. I haven't had a boyfriend in a long time." The word boyfriend rolls off her tongue casually, as if it's obvious, as if she's been using it for years.
My entire body flushes. I'm warm everywhere. I'm her boyfriend. It's such a simple label, but it feels so good.
Imogen notices, smiles, continues, "Julie has a lot of storedI need to torture your boyfriendenergy."
"I love torture." I slip on my shoes and move down the stairs. "You hungry?" I ask them both.
"Starving," Julie says. "Do you have coffee?"
"Let's go out," Imogen says.
"No! Let's stay in your boyfriend's apartment," Julie says.
"So you can snoop?" Imogen asks.
Julie holds up crossed fingers. "Never."
"We don't have a lot to eat," I say.
"Please. If Immy spent the night, there's oatmeal," Julie says. "You're like a robot with your routine."
Imogen blushes. "Lots of people eat the same thing for breakfast every day."
"Let's suffer through some oatmeal," Julie says. "Then we can go out for coffee. Deal?"
"Seems fair," I say.
She laughs. "See, your boyfriend agrees."
"I like her oatmeal," I say.
"And the chai too?" Julie asks.
"Who wouldn't?" I ask.
"Really? The star anise? It's a little cliché, don't you think? The Viet girl adding star anise?" Julie asks.
"Fuck off," Imogen says.
