Hard Hitter

“Oh my God!”

I seriously can’t take any more. Covering my face with my hands, I race out of her room, back down the hall and into mine and Fran’s and collapse down on the bed.

“Whoa, you look fancy,” she says. I can’t tell if she means it or is slightly mocking me—or is a little jealous. Probably a mixture of both.

“Tasha leant it to me,” I tell her. “You think it works?”

“I think you could go over there tonight in a burlap sack and that Neanderthal would still try to stick his cock in you.”

Probably jealous.

“Wow, way to make me feel special, Fran,” I say as I sit up and grab my purse and phone.

I’m giving her the opportunity to apologize, but she just shrugs. “That’s just my opinion of the guy, Red.”

Okay. That’s how it’s going to be. My roommate’s reaction is only making me more committed to tonight’s plan. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s being pressured into behaving a certain way. No one forces me into a box. No one.

“All right,” I reply. “Don’t know if I’ll be back tonight. If I am, I’ll try not to wake you.”

I’m on my way out the door when Fran adds one last jibe. “Try not to get herpes.”

I start to say something but decide better of it; there’s no need to make things worse and get into a fight that will spoil my night. Instead, I leave the dorm and start my walk across campus. Yup. Definitely jealous.