“Hurry up, get them out,” Charlie reminds me.
I race to my closet and pull them out, throwing a pair over to her just in time.
“Give me a T!” We cheer in unison.
We laugh as we do our usual skit. Pom poms in hand, we mimic the movie just like we always do. When it comes to cheerleading, it’s a secret obsession.
After the movie finishes, we somehow get stuck watching infomercials again until Charlie wants to buy a steam mop. Seriously, even I want the mop, and that’s saying a lot since I already have a cleaner.
I sit there, snuggled into my best friend. Like nothing has changed, but everything has.
I know life will be different.
As I glance over at her, I notice how different she looks.
Apart from that I’ve-been-fucked-like-crazy look, she’s glowing, and her smile, it’s flawless. She looks over at me and winks. Charlotte is happy. I finally know now what it means when people say that another person’s happiness is essential to your own. It makes me think maybe I should give Miguel another go. I mean, he was happy because he came. I should be pleased because he’s happy. My body shutters as I think about the funky spunk again.
“You okay? Swallowed something bad?” Charlie asks, innocently.
I let out a loose laugh, nearly choking on my wonton. Serves me right.
“Actually, I did. Let me tell you about my Tuesday night, but first, dip that wonton straight into that vinegar mixed with the fishy lemon sauce thing.”
She follows my instructions, scrunching her face and sticking out her tongue as she realizes how bad it is. Grabbing the water, she tries to wash it down but ends up gargling for a moment.
“Fuck, E, that was…” she lets out a cough, “… that was fucking sour.”
“Right, so now that you have tasted it, let me tell you about my night with Miguel…”
LEX
Our first two weeks as a couple are pure bliss, well, at least that’s what I tell myself. The reality is, we argued over the pettiest of things, but arguing leads to one thing, and the only thing that’s on my mind—hot, off-the-charts animalistic raw sex. The kind of sex which does nothing to diffuse my erection. If anything, it makes me want more and more to the point where I have to remind myself we still have to function as human beings outside the apartment.
It isn’t the first time I lived with a woman, but eight years living in a bachelor pad has me set in my ways. I’m not a slob, quite the opposite, in fact. I’m extremely anal, and it turns out so is Charlotte. The problem is we have different ways of doing things, and we don’t always see eye to eye.
“The toilet paper should face forward, over,” she argues.
“I disagree.”
“Why on earth would it be under?”
“Because it looks tidier this way.”
She looks at me, the argument far from over. Bathroom politics are not hot, although Charlotte standing there in her tank top showing her erect nipples and cute-ass panties is, which leads to me fucking her in front of the mirror, and so that was Monday.
On Tuesday, we decide to eat McDonald’s, much to my horror. I can’t even recall the last time I ate cheap fast food. Charlotte’s cravings are all over the place, and being the great husband that I am, and so she won’t feel so bad, I eat what she eats.
“Did I just see you dip your fry into that chocolate fudge sundae?” Cringing, she waits for my response with a clear look of disgust on her face.
“Yes, Adriana and I used to do it as kids.”
“That is gross! Fries and dairy?”
I dip a nugget in there, and the look of disgust intensifies.
“Lex! Who does that? I bet you that you’re the only one doing that. Prove to me someone else does it?”
“If I do, will you flip the toilet paper my way?”