by Shelly Bell
Missy had not been thrilled to learn Jamie and I had had sex in her bed. At least I changed her sheets afterward.
At the time, Missy had been trying to convince herself she wasn’t gay by experimenting with boys. Two weeks after I lost my virginity in her bed, she lost her virginity to a childhood friend of hers named Toby. A year later, both she and Toby came out as gay.
I hadn’t been totally shocked when she told me. After all, by then we had been friends for more than ten years. Even though she pretended to like boys, she’d never talked about anyone in particular and never had crushes like the rest of us.
One night, she and I sat outside on my deck, drinking coffee and smoking a pack of Marlboro Lights we had stolen from her mom’s purse. She had been acting nervous all week, so I knew she had something important to tell me. She blurted out she was a lesbian. I told her I had a feeling and that was the end of the conversation. Nothing changed. She was no different than before she’d confided in me.
Missy still didn’t talk about her love life much. I knew the basics, like the name of the girls she dated and where they went on their dates, but that was it. She never discussed the specifics. I, on the other hand, held back nothing. Missy knew everything about my relationships. I’d questioned her about it over the years, but she would always blow it off, saying she preferred to keep some things private. Besides, she’d say, there’s nothing to tell.
Now the first boy I ever loved, the first boy with whom I’d shared my body, stood in the same room as me. He caught me watching him and smiled. He said something to his friends and walked toward me.
“Wow, he looks good,” Elana said.
Jamie approached us and gave me a hug. “It’s good to see you. How are you?”
That’s one of his best qualities. He wouldn’t ask “how are you” if he didn’t want the answer. He really wanted to know.
“I’m good. You?” I honestly felt like I was back in high school. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling, and I had butterflies in my tummy. I bet my palms were sweating, too.
Darkness crossed over his face. “I’ve seen some better days. My fiancée and I just broke up.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Okay, that’s not really true, but what should I have said? Good, because now I have another shot at you?
“It was for the best. We had grown apart over the years, and we realized we wanted different things.”
“So is tonight your way of moving on?”
“You remember Don and Ryan. They convinced me to come tonight. I didn’t want to, but you know what? I’m glad I did.”
We stood there smiling at each other. Part of me wanted to take him and run, so I could keep him all to myself. Then I heard my number being called. It was time to meet my destiny.
“That’s my number.” Suddenly, I had no desire to meet the ten men waiting for me in the other room. “Do you want to have a drink after we’re both done?”
“I’ll find you,” he said huskily, hinting at the possibility he, too, would rather skip the speed dating.
Missy grabbed me by the arm and dragged me away to the connecting room where some of the other registrants were waiting patiently for directions from the organizer of the event. As I walked in, a woman in her mid-forties gave me my card with a list of numbers on it, each one representing one of the men I would meet over the next hour.
Then she turned to Missy. “What is your number?”
“I don’t have a number.”
“Then you have to leave the room. This room is for registrants only.”
Missy mouthed the word “busted” at me, then laughed her ass off as she started to leave room. When Goldman walked in, she broke out into hysterics.
Bitch.
Seriously, out of all the guys that could have been in my round of speed dating, why did it have to be Goldman? I know the computer chose our numbers at random, but honestly, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear he was following me.
The organizer, who introduced herself as Ruth, told the women to sit by our respective number and explained each man would move from table to table in six-minute increments.
Missy and I had prepared questions to help me get to know about my date without having to resort to the usual small talk. Questions like “If you could have dinner with one historical person who would it be and why?” “What is your dream vacation?” “What is the last book you read?” “Where do you see yourself in five years?”
Ruth rang a bell and my first date began. We began by telling each other our names and then he asked me what I did for a living, my least favorite question. As if our jobs or careers define us. Yes, I’m a psychologist. Now they assume I’m nurturing and I enjoy listening to everyone telling me their problems. After listening to teenagers complaining about how unfair it is they have to abide by their parents rules, I really don’t want to come home and hear my boyfriend complain about his boss at work.
The first three guys failed to impress me. One guy creeped me out by informing me I reminded him of his mother.
Then I met Max, a pediatrician with two dogs, a house, and a vacation home in Florida. On paper he sounded impressive, but he never asked me a single question in the whole six minutes. I wasn’t sure if he was an egomaniac or just nervous. I guess I’d give him a second chance, so I circled his number on my card. My mom would be thrilled if I married a Jewish doctor. He obviously liked children and animals. How bad could he be?
Noah, a lawyer originally from Ohio, had possibilities. When I asked him what he’d do if he won forty million dollars in the lottery, he said he’d pay off the mortgages for his entire family, buy a house in the mountains, and retire, spending his free time doing charity work with the needy. Personally, I think the mountains of Las Vegas are beautiful, but I prefer to stay in the casinos or at the pool. I don’t ski or climb mountains, but I suppose I could always learn if I met the right guy. I circled his name as well.
After Noah, a smirking Goldman sat at my table.
“How do you do? I’m Adam,” he said, offering his hand for a handshake.
I’ll play along. “I’m Sara,” I responded taking his hand. Instead of shaking it, he turned my hand and kissed it. It sent a tingle right to my toes. Damn, why does he always affect me this way? Especially since he’s just toying with me?
“Sara, a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”
I snorted in response, forgetting about the men in the room I was trying to impress. I hoped they didn’t hear it because it’s not the most sophisticated noise in the world.
“And a rose by any other name ...”
“Would smell as sweet,” he finished.
That impressed me. “You know Shakespeare?”
“I may have read a few of his plays.”
“Really? Be honest, did you just see the movies?” I teased.
“You mean you don’t believe me?”
I couldn’t read him. I didn’t know if he was still pretending or if I insulted him.
“If you say you’ve read Shakespeare, then I believe you.”
He sat back in his chair with a studious expression.
“Where do you want to be in five years?”
The question made me nervous, and I wasn’t sure why. It didn’t matter what I said to him because this wasn’t a real date, right?
“Why did that question make you nervous?” he inquired.
“Why do you think it made me nervous?”
“You always bite your lower lip when you’re anxious. It’s cute.”
“No, I don’t.” No one had ever told me I did that. Could he be right? Even if he was right, I was floored he knew me that well.
“Ask Missy, if you don’t believe me.”
“I will.”
“So, what’s your answer?”
Even though I had prepared to ask the same question, I hadn’t thought about how I would answer it. I guess it did make me anxious to think about what I wanted for my future past my next birthday.
�
��I want to live in a house in the suburbs with two point four kids, a dog, and two goldfish.”
“And a husband?”
I blushed at his question. “Of course a husband. That was to be implied by the house and the kids.”
“Don’t forget the dog and the goldfish.”
“Right,” I muttered.
“I didn’t think you liked fish.”
He really did know me. “I don’t like fish, but our kids won them at the Purim carnival, so what could we do?”
His eyebrow shot up at my comment. “Our kids?”
Oh God, did I really say that? I meant the hypothetical husband and my kids. “Not yours and mine,” I stammered, trying to convince both him and me.
He started to say something, but Ruth rang the bell and our six-minute date was over.
“Good luck, Sara,” he said quietly before moving to the next table.
For a moment, I wanted to stop him and say something. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say, only that I wanted to say something. He always confused me.
When my next date sat, my confusion over Goldman was forgotten. Ryan introduced himself and smiled at me.
“Why do you need speed dating? I’m sure you have plenty of guys lining up to take you out.”
“That’s sweet of you to say, but no, no guys lining up at my door,” I responded, entranced by his blue eyes.
“Well lucky for me.”
“What about you? You must have plenty of women throwing themselves at you.”
“It’s hard to find nice Jewish girls in my line of work.”
As tempted as I was to ask him what line of work he was in, I stuck to my guns and didn’t ask.
“What do you do for fun?”
“Concerts, swimming, and traveling.”
“What kind of concerts do you go to?”
My parents took me to my first concert when I was eight years old. I loved the atmosphere of the outdoor pavilion, thousands of people singing and dancing along to the music. Since then, I’ve been to hundreds of concerts from all types of artists in all types of genres-classical, country, rock, and pop.
“I used to be a head banger.”
“Somehow, I don’t see it,” I said.
“I’ve changed a lot over the last twenty years.”
That meant he was probably in his mid to late thirties.
“What are you seeking in a relationship?”
“I’m searching for my soul mate, a partner to settle down with and have children.”
Here I am! I nodded and tried to give him the look which suggested he had found his soul mate and didn’t need to look any further.
Ruth rang her little bell. I was starting to dislike Ruth and her bell.
“It was nice meeting you, Sara.”
“You, too.”
With no doubts in my mind, I circled Ryan’s number and prayed he’d circle mine. I wanted to know more about him and maybe go see a concert with him. I just couldn’t picture him head banging to the music. I’d have to see it with my own two eyes to believe it.
After Ryan, the last two paled in comparison. I don’t think I even tried to get to know them. I didn’t bother circling their names.
At the end of our dates, we were told to wait thirty minutes in the other room while the results were prepared. After, we could pick it up at the table where we registered.
I scanned the room for Missy and found her talking with Steffi and Elana almost exactly where I had left them. I guess they weren’t much for mingling.
“How did it go?”
“I’m hoping for three matches, but we’ll see.” Honestly, if I only match with Ryan, I’d still be pleased.
“Is Goldman one of those matches you’re hoping for?”
“Of course not.”
“You know, fate seems to be throwing you two together.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s not fate throwing us together. It’s the fact it’s a small Jewish community and we can’t avoid each other.”
“If you say so.”
Missy and I had a drink before I picked up the card with the results. I matched with both Max and Ryan. Not too bad for an hours work.
Goldman came to me. “How’d you do?”
“I got two matches,” I gloated. “How about you?”
“Three,” he responded, although he didn’t gloat. In fact, he seemed downright depressed.
“That’s great,” I said, although part of me was saddened. I didn’t know why.
“I’ll see you around.” Goldman walked away from me, and I almost ran after him to find out what was wrong. After all, we had known each other for many years and we were sort of friends I guess. If something was troubling him, didn’t I owe it to him as his friend to help him out? I started to follow him, but then Jamie stepped in front of me.
“I just finished my speed dating and I have to wait for my results, but after, can we go somewhere else and get a drink?” Jamie requested.
“I came with Missy, so you’d have to take me home.” Missy wouldn’t mind.
“Sure. I’ll come get you when I’ve gotten the card, okay?”
I nodded in agreement and went to find Missy.
I found her talking with Jamie’s friend Don.
“Hey, Sara,” Don said. He never was much of a conversationalist.
“Good to see you, Don. Would you mind terribly if I pull Missy away for a minute?”
“No, I’m headed out of here anyway. Good to see both of you.”
“What’s up?”
“If it’s okay with you, I’m going to go out for a drink with Jamie in a little bit.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“I need your opinion. Since I already dated Jamie more than four times, does the four date rule still apply?”
Missy bit her lip as she considered my question.
“Hmm. That is a good question. I would normally say yes, the four date rule still applies since it’s been years since you’ve seen each other and you don’t know anything about him anymore.”
There sounded like there was going to be a “but” in there and I waited for it patiently.
“But,” she continued. “There is an exception to the rule in circumstances like this when it’s been more than a year since you’ve gotten laid. It’s been how long?”
“It’s been three years, Missy,” I revealed through gritted teeth.
“How time flies when you’re not getting laid, huh?” she taunted.
“So, I can have sex with him tonight and not feel like a slut?”
“Honey, you need this. I’m afraid if you don’t get laid soon, you’ll spontaneously combust. Although that would be quite a feat, I’d rather have you alive. Even if it did make you a slut, I say go for it.” She gave me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“You’ll have to tell me everything tomorrow.”
“You know I will,” I promised. I was lucky to have Missy as my best friend.
We talked to a few other people we knew and Missy got to reject a few offers from men for a date. She had learned throughout the years how to reject them without making them feel bad. She’d always say “You seem like a very nice guy and if I wasn’t a lesbian, I’d love to go out with you.” Normally, the guys left her alone, but she did have the occasional jerk who’d want to hear more about what it’s like to be a lesbian.
It makes no sense guys fantasizing about joining two lesbians having sex. If they’re lesbians, they are not going to be into your dick and unless they’re exhibitionists, they aren’t going to ask you to watch.
Jamie came back with his card and I didn’t ask him how many matches he made. He didn’t ask me either.
After saying goodbye to our friends, we grabbed our coats and headed out to a bar within walking distance. I couldn’t wait to find out all the ways Jamie had changed since high school.
CHAPTER 10
APRIL 1, 2012
DETROIT, MICHIGAN
WEIGHT: 179
STATUS: SINGLE
He confided his parents had gotten divorced because of his father’s infidelity. Apparently, his father came home one day, announced he wanted a divorce and informed his wife he was marrying his secretary, who was carrying his baby. Now, Jamie had a ten-year-old sister and a stepmother five years older than us. His father married his stepmother one day after his divorce was final. That same day, his mother flew to Jamaica, where she stayed in her hotel room for ten days. Then she put the past behind her and returned to Michigan to become a nurse. She was now married to a physician and according to Jamie, is incredibly happy for the first time in her life.
I wanted to ask about why he and his fiancée broke their engagement, but I didn’t want to stir up any unresolved feelings. I don’t think I could handle it if Jamie spent the time we had together sobbing about how much he misses his fiancée. It would definitely put a damper on the seduction I had planned in my head.
When the bar closed, Jamie and I got into his car to head home. Luckily, I lived close by because I didn’t think I could keep my hands off of him for another minute. The entire ten-minute ride home I kept my hand on his thigh, moving it up and down all the while focusing on the growing erection in his jeans.
It had been so many years I could barely remember what he looked like naked. I couldn’t even recall his penis size, because it wasn’t something I considered as a teen, especially with no others to compare it to. I just remember how good it felt to lie naked next to him in my bed.
Not that we got to have sex often. Although my parents left us alone in my house, we didn’t use every opportunity for sex. I’m sure it had something to do with the fear of pregnancy. Even with condoms, I always worried I’d end up pregnant. My period had never been regular and there were times I’d go three months or longer without it. That made us paranoid, and there’s nothing more embarrassing than buying a pregnancy test as a teen. Except for maybe buying tampons and condoms. Either way, at sixteen, sex wasn’t worth all the anxiety.