Monday, November 15, 2004

Dumped

"I've decided to stay with Paul," Stephanie says.

No. It can't be. It can't! I can't lose to that dickhead. He can't make her happier than I can. He can't be as good with her as I am. He can't talk to her the way I can.

This must be a joke. Or a dream. Any minute now, she'll tell me she was just kidding, and...

"Steve, say something."

I shake my head. "OK, Steph. I know this was hard for you, and as long as you feel good about your choice, I'm happy for you. I want you to be happy."

"I don't expect you to be happy about it. I know I wouldn't be. But he's being so great to me now! He bought me a present!" She reaches down into the neck of her sweater and pulls out a gold chain with a huge diamond hanging from it. It's at least a carat. If it's real, he spent three grand, easy.

"Hm!" I say, trying not to look impressed. But this guy wants her bad. Of course, he's a moron. All he had to do was buy her a couple of hundred-dollar sweaters from the Gap for Christmas, and that would not have been necessary.

"You think I'm making a huge mistake," she says.

There's no way I'm going for that one. First off, I don't even know for sure that this IS a mistake on her part. I mean, this is ME we are talking about here, and if she chose me, I'd probably be fucking some skank within a month, just for the hell of it. But even if I DID think it was a mistake, I wouldn't say so now. She made up her mind. It's over. If I ticked off a list of reasons why she was wrong, it would make me look like a spoilsport, and it wouldn't change a thing.

"Did you follow your heart?" I say.

"Mmm-hmm."

"Then I'm proud of you," I say. I hug her.

This is the best I can manage in this situation. Take the high road. Make her think that I am willing to give up what I want (her) in exchange for knowing that she is truly happy. Make her think that her happiness is more important than mine. If anything ever goes wrong with Mr. Limp-dick, and it surely will, she'll remember that.

"You are SO great, Steve. I hoped that you would understand. So you're not disappointed?"

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Just go with him and be happy." I manage a smile.

"Would you ever consider..." she begins, looking down at my WELCOME mat.

Throwing you one last bang for the road? Giving your boyfriend some pointers on how to screw you properly? Staying friends?

"Would you ever consider being friends?" she says. "You're an amazing friend..."

I NEVER stay friends with an ex. Never. The one exception is Lila, and she doesn't seem interested in friendship, anyway. If I'm not good enough to pound the living shit out of you, then I don't want to pop popcorn and watch Pirates of the Carribbean with you, either. And if I stopped calling a girl, it's because she bored me, or annoyed me, which would mean that I have no interest in hanging out with her, as a girlfriend OR as a friend.

"I mean, it was so great knowing that when I got bored, or stressed, that I could call someone who I knew could make me laugh."

"That's his job now, Steph."

"Can I at least call you sometime?"

"We'll talk about it."

She moves in close to me. She brings her lips to mine, closing her eyes. We kiss for a long time.

Our lips part. She stares up at me. "I'm gonna miss you," she whispers. She's crying again.

She runs her hand over my cheek. I take a step back. "Bye, Steph," I say.

**********

7:45. I pull into dad's driveway. I was supposed to be here an hour and a half ago.

I open the front door and run upstairs, then make a right turn into the living room.

"STEVE!" Four or five people say. Everyone is smiling. It's a much warmer reception than last time.

I look around the room, and my pussy detector goes off.

There is a young girl sitting on the couch. She's maybe 18, no older. The first thing I notice about her is her tits. In fact, one of the first things I notice about ANY girl is her tits. Sometimes my eyes go there before they go to her face.

They are firm and round-looking: 34C's, I am guessing. Her waist is tiny, but she does seem to have a nice pair of hips. I can't WAIT to see her ass.

Her face is what I would call "cherubic": She's got chubby cheeks and a thick, nice pair of dick-sucking lips. Her hair is chestnut brown, and it's pulled back into a ponytail. She's not ugly, but you're not gonna see her in an LL Bean catalog anytime soon, either.

She looks familiar. I know I've seen her before, somewhere...

I've been staring. "Hi, Steve!" she says, smiling brightly.

I smile back. "Hey there," I say. I could just ask who she is, but you guys know me. I'm always keen to figure it out on my own.

I look at her eyes. They are a nice shade of light brown, like milk chocolate. She looks like....

I've GOT it! She looks like Greg's wife Nancy! She's Nancy's younger sister! She has a funny name, too. She was born around the holidays...

"You don't remember me, do you?" she says.

"Of course I remember you, Holly," I say.

Her mouth drops open. Her teeth are white and flawlessly straight. I dig that. "He REMEMBERS!" she says, to no one in particular.

"I don't forget much," I say.

I saw Holly last year around Christmastime. She was going through a gawky phase, as I recall. Nothing to look at, then.

Dad walks into the room, shaving with an electric razor. He shaves twice a day. "Hiya, son," he says. He walks over, turns off the shaver, and hugs me.

"Steve, now that everyone's here, I have something to say," he says. "You are a grown person and you are perfectly capable of handling your own relationships. I didn't mean to question you last time, and I'm very sorry I upset you."

I hear a few "Yeah's" and "Sorry, Steve's" from around the room.

"Forget it, guys."

"We ordered Chinese. You want Chinese? Go fix yourself a plate!" he says.

I eat some teriyaki beef, chicken fingers, and pork fried rice. I am in Heaven.

**********

I finish eating and join the group. Jenny is here too, with some guy Bill that she is seeing.

"Steve, we're just starting Lord of the Rings. You wanna watch?" Greg asks.

"Sure!" I say. "Of course, you do realize this DVD is about 4 hours long." It's 8:45.

An hour later, dad is snoring loudly on the couch.

Holly is laying down on her stomach in front of the TV. Her ass is unbelivable, a miracle of roundness and symmetry. I am sitting on the couch; she keeps looking back at me and smiling, or asking questions about the movie.

11:00. The movie is nowhere NEAR over. My brother Greg stands up. "We're out," he says. "Holly, you ready?"

"I was watching this!" she says.

"We're totally exhausted," Nancy says. "We have to go."

Holly turns around and looks beseechingly at me. I am starting to think that if she stays, I'm gonna have my hands on that cute little ass before tomorrow.

"Where do you live, Holly?" I ask nonchalantly.

"Off exit 14," she says, "just past the fairgrounds."

"That's on my way home. You want a ride later?"

"Sure!" she says.

Notice, I did not ask Greg and Nancy; I asked Holly directly. Once they see that Holly and I have reached an agreement together, they'll be less likely to object.

"Well, ok," says Nancy. "You sure you don't mind, Steve?"

"Yeah, it's no problem," I say.

"Mom is out for the night, right," Nancy says.

"Mm-hmm!" Holly says.

Nancy gets the baby out of the bedroom. We all kiss her goodnight. She is getting so big.

"Be good!" Greg says to no one in particular as he walks out the door.

Don't fucking count on it, bro.