by Jason Starr
Katie said she wanted to take it slow—which was cool with Andy at first because he didn’t want to date a total slut—but he didn’t want to wait forever, either. The next time he told his roommates that he and Katie had had sex he wanted it to be the truth, and since they both really liked each other and were perfect for each other and all that, he didn’t see why they had to wait any longer.
As he crossed Second Avenue, and continued along East Ninety-third, he knew the roses would help big-time. Last year, in Ann Arbor, he’d gone out with this girl Alison. The first couple of times they were alone together, he didn’t get any, and then he went over to her place with a couple of roses and he wound up getting laid.
He went up the stoop of the walk-up apartment where Katie lived, confident that tonight would be his lucky night.
THREE
Katie Porter was in the bathroom, putting on mascara while holding her cell up to her ear, saying to her friend Amanda, “And then he called me the other day at work, not for any reason—just to say, Hi, what’s going on?”
“That’s a good sign,” Amanda said.
“Isn’t it?” Katie said. “And he’s a really sweet guy. He always holds the door open for me when I’m getting into cabs, and he helps me put my coat on—”
“That’s great.”
“And he’s not one of those guys you can’t hold a conversation with. Like that guy Dave I went out with last month, you know the one who kept going on and on about the Mets. I wanted to strangle myself.”
Amanda laughed, then said, “So have you guys…?”
“No, not yet,” Katie said. “I mean, I think he wants to, but, I don’t know, I just want to wait. But he’s really cool about it, you know? He’s not pressuring me or anything.”
Katie put the mascara in the medicine chest and looked at herself, making sure she looked perfect.
“It’s so great you found each other,” Amanda said.
Katie was outside the bathroom, looking in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. “Oh, shit.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m wearing jeans and I had sushi with tons of soy sauce for lunch.”
“I’m sure you look amazing.”
Still thinking her thighs looked bloated, Katie squatted, trying to stretch the jeans out, then said, “But I really want you to meet him. Maybe we can go out next week or something.”
“Does he have any single friends?”
“He doesn’t talk about his friends that much.”
“Oh.” Amanda sounded like she thought that was weird.
“It’s only been two weeks,” Katie said. “I haven’t even been to his apartment yet.”
“You haven’t?”
“No, but I know he has roommates.”
“Normandie guys?” Amanda asked warily.
“Andy’s a Normandie guy,” Katie said.
“I know, but most of those guys are so immature. My friend Jen at work went out with a Normandie guy last year and he was the biggest asshole. They’re all, like, frat boys.”
“He said one’s in med school and one’s in law school,” Katie said, as if Amanda could be missing out on a major opportunity.
“Have you seen pictures?”
“No, but they could be really good-looking. Andy’s adorable.”
“I hate being set up,” Amanda said. “I mean, maybe if there’s, like, a party or something—”
The buzzer rang.
“That’s him,” Katie said.
“Call me tomorrow and tell me everything.”
“I will.”
Katie clicked off. She buzzed Andy up, then went into the bathroom and put on some more Tommy Girl perfume. She was slightly pissed off at Amanda for acting so high and mighty and she wondered if Amanda was just jealous. Although Amanda was really sweet—well, sweet most of the time, anyway—she’d been having a hard time meeting guys lately. It wasn’t because Amanda wasn’t pretty. She was a little on the heavy side, but she had a cute face and great blue eyes and a beautiful smile. Her attitude needed work, though. She was a year older than Katie and had been living in New York since graduating from Wesleyan a year and a half ago. Lots of guys had screwed her over, especially since she’d been living in the city, and she let it show, acting all standoffish and bitchy when guys tried to talk to her at bars.
The doorbell rang. Katie looked in the full-length mirror again, still thinking her legs looked fat, wishing she’d changed into something else. Well, too late now. She opened the door and Andy was there, looking really cute in a Banana Republic shirt and with his hair gelled. They said hi and kissed and then Andy handed her a bouquet of pink roses.
“Oh my God, thank you.” She recognized the bouquet and the wrapping from the flowers that were sold at the Korean deli on Second Avenue. She knew these bouquets cost ten dollars and she was disappointed that Andy hadn’t sprung for a little more. Then she reminded herself that he was poor—well, maybe not poor, but he was at his first job out of college and was probably paying off student loans—and it was the thought that counted.
“They’re so beautiful,” she said. “I better go put them in water.”
Andy took off his jacket, then followed Katie into the kitchen. As Katie filled a vase with water, Andy held her from behind and said, “Hey, where’s Susan?”
“Oh, she’s sleeping over at Tom’s tonight.”
“Really? You mean we have the whole place all to ourselves?”
Katie wasn’t sure she liked the tone in Andy’s voice.
“Yeah,” Katie said. “I guess we do.”
Andy came over and started kissing Katie’s neck.
“You’re gonna make me drop the vase,” she said.
Katie finished putting the flowers in the water and went toward the small dining area. Andy followed her and kept kissing her.
“Down, boy,” Katie said.
“I can’t help it,” Andy said. “You’re so beautiful.”
Katie put the vase on the table and said, “How do they look?”
“Awesome,” Andy said, turning Katie toward him. They started making out, then Andy pulled back and said, “It’s so great to see you.”
“You, too,” Katie said.
Andy kissed her again and steered her backward onto the couch. He was on top of her, pressing down a little too hard, but she didn’t say anything. Then his hand slid down her right leg and he started squeezing the side of her thigh and she wondered if he was feeling her fat.
After he undid her bra and started rubbing her breasts, Katie pushed him back gently and said, “We should go to dinner now.”
“Why?” Andy said and started kissing her again.
“Because,” Katie said, her voice muffled. “I’m starving.”
Andy pushed himself up, halfway off her, and said, “How about we just order in?”
“No, I really wanted to go out to that Spanish place.”
“Come on, how often do we get the place to ourselves?”
“We can come back later.”
Andy started kissing Katie again, feeling her breasts and thighs. As his hands crept closer to between her legs, she squeezed them together and said, “Seriously,” and turned away. “I want to go out.”
“Whatever,” Andy said, sitting up, as if offended.
“It’s just that it’s Friday night,” Katie said. “I hate sitting home Friday nights. It makes me feel like such a loser. I like to get out and—”
“It’s no big deal,” Andy said coldly. “I just thought it’d be cool to order in and watch a pay-per-view or something. But if you want to go out, let’s go out.”
Katie got her J. Crew leather jacket from the closet. Although Andy was standing right there, he didn’t help her put it on, the way he usually did.
Outside, walking along Second Avenue, they held hands and things seemed normal, but when they got to the restaurant Andy started acting weird again. He kept getting distracted, looking away, and he didn’t seem to be having
a good time. He said his paella was “too gummy” and wouldn’t eat it, and he refused to even try her seviche. At first, Katie thought he was being all moody because he’d wanted to stay in, but then she started wondering if maybe there was more to it. Maybe something had happened at work or something, or maybe something was going on with his family. He didn’t talk much about his family, but on their first date he mentioned that his parents had almost gotten divorced last year.
Whatever was going on with Andy, it was annoying Katie, but she didn’t feel comfortable enough around him yet to ask him what was wrong, so she tried to ignore it. She kept making small talk—he was barely answering—and by the time the check came, she was so fed up she just wanted to go home and watch TV by herself.
“So what do you want to do now?” Katie asked.
“What do you want to do?” Andy asked.
“I don’t know. It’s getting kind of late, I guess.”
“So you don’t wanna go out for a drink or something?”
“I’ll go if you want to go,” she said, hoping he’d get the hint that she was pissed off.
“No, it’s cool,” Andy said, not getting the hint at all. “Let’s just go hang back at your place.”
Katie didn’t want to invite Andy back to her apartment, and she tried to think of a way out of it. She figured she’d say she wasn’t feeling well, or she was exhausted, or something like that. But then, all of a sudden, Andy was acting like his old self—making jokes and paying a lot of attention to her. She didn’t know what was going on with him—if anything was going on; she could’ve been making it all up—and she decided to let him come back to her place and see how things went. He was really nice and sweet and they wound up on the couch, making out, listening to KT Tunstall. She was going to forget about the way he’d acted at the restaurant, not bring it up anyway, but it was still on her mind, and she blurted out, “So what’s up with you tonight anyway?”
“What do you mean?” Andy said, lost, or pretending to be lost.
“In the restaurant,” Katie said. “You were so, like, I don’t know…”
“I’m sorry…I guess I just had a long week at work, you know?”
“Oh,” she said, thinking, That’s no excuse.
“Sorry if I was a jerk,” Andy said, and kissed her, running his hands gently through her hair. Then, touching noses, he said, “Your eyes are so beautiful.”
“Thanks,” she said.
They continued kissing. He was on top of her now, in the same position they were in before they went to dinner. He undid her bra and started feeling her breasts and it felt really nice. Then he started grinding up against her and feeling her over her jeans. They were both breathing heavier and she could tell he wanted to do it and she wanted to do it, too.
“Wanna move to the bedroom?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said.
They went into the bedroom and then she said she’d be right back and went into the bathroom. She was going to get a condom, but then decided she wouldn’t make love to Andy tonight. Although she liked him a lot and he seemed like a really nice guy, she wanted to wait awhile, at least two more dates. She felt like she’d had sex too quickly with her last couple of boyfriends and she felt bad about it and she wanted to take things slower this time. Maybe she’d do a little more with Andy tonight, but they definitely wouldn’t have sex.
Katie returned to the bedroom and Andy was sitting on the edge of the bed. He had taken off his button-down shirt but was still wearing a white V-neck T-shirt. The lamp on the dresser was shining on him, and his skin looked very smooth and tan.
She sat next to him and they started kissing and then he pulled her shirt off over her head and she pulled off his. Then he took off her bra and kissed her breasts in a nice way and then she said, “Wait,” and leaned over toward the night table. She flicked on the iPod, which was connected to a docking station. A few seconds later, Norah Jones was into “Come Away with Me.”
Sitting up, they continued kissing each other and then they lay down, side by side, and suddenly his hand was under her panties. She was kind of surprised because he hadn’t even un-snapped her jeans and because he hadn’t asked her if it was okay to do this. They hadn’t gone this far before, and the last time he tried, she told him she wanted to wait. But she didn’t say anything, because it felt good, and she was ready to go further tonight anyway.
After a while, she opened his jeans and started touching him. She’d wondered if, because his hands were kind of small, he’d be small everywhere, and she was glad to feel that it was normal sized, maybe even on the big side. She wanted to make love, but she knew it would be better to wait. They’d fool around tonight and then maybe next time they’d do more. It would be hard for her to finish this way—it was already getting a little uncomfortable—but he’d finish and that would be far enough for tonight.
Then he started pushing her head down with one of his hands. Well, he wasn’t really pushing it—he was guiding it, with steady pressure. This felt weird because, although she didn’t really mind going down on him, and was actually about to do it anyway, she felt it was something she should’ve initiated. She started kissing his chest and his stomach and stopped there. If he kept guiding her head down, she was going to say something, but he stopped doing it so she went down farther on her own.
His balls smelled musky, like bad musky, and she couldn’t get used to it so she took shallow breaths through her nose and took breaks to take deeper breaths through her mouth. She did it harder and faster and used her hands more than she usually did. It seemed like she was down there for a long time and she was thinking about having sex with him tonight after all. At least she wouldn’t have to smell his musky balls anymore or let him come in her mouth.
Then he backed away suddenly. She wondered if she’d done something wrong, maybe bitten his dick or squeezed his balls too hard. She was going to ask him, but she thought he was about to say something, so she waited. Then she realized he was putting on a condom. She didn’t know where the condom had come from and she figured that he must have gotten one from his wallet, while she was going down on him. She didn’t know what to say—it was all happening so fast. He kissed her with a lot of tongue and then suddenly he was on top of her and they were doing it. She was dry and it hurt, but she was too confused to say anything.
He must’ve at least sensed something was wrong because he stopped thrusting into her and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah…it feels great.”
“Cool.”
He was holding her arms down too tight and it still hurt a lot. But she just lay there, ignoring the pain, even saying “Oh my God” a few times, hoping that would make him finish. Finally his noises got louder and he pushed her arms down harder and pounded into her faster, so she knew he was getting close, but it took a long time, maybe another minute, before his face scrunched up and turned sunburn red, and then he said, “Oh, fuck,” grunted, got totally still for a good five seconds, and rolled off her.
He was breathing heavily, like he’d just climbed a few flights of stairs carrying heavy packages, but he wasn’t touching her at all. Her arms hurt like hell, she was very sore, and she felt like she wanted to cry.
He didn’t say anything for a long time, then he said, “Wow.” His breathing returned to normal but his eyes were closed and she wondered if he was falling asleep. Then he turned toward her and gazed sensitively into her eyes. She expected him to ask her what was wrong. She’d tell him how upset she was and they’d talk and maybe things would be okay.
“So,” he asked, “did you?”
“Did I what?” She couldn’t believe this.
“You know,” he said, brushing the hair away from her eyes with his fingers. “Did you come?”
FOUR
Katie didn’t know what to say— she definitely didn’t want to cry—so she said the only thing she could think of that she knew would end the conv
ersation immediately.
“Yeah. It was great.”
“I thought so,” Andy said and snuggled up next to her, with one arm over her breasts, and after a couple of minutes he started snoring lightly. She didn’t want him to touch her; she didn’t even want to be near him.
She managed to free herself without waking him. She sat on the edge of the bed and starting bawling, but tried her hardest not to make any noise.
A few minutes later, she was about to tap him on the shoulder to wake him up and tell him to get the hell out of her apartment, but she stopped herself, realizing she could be making a huge mistake. First-time sex always sucked and maybe that was all it was—bad sex. She figured she’d go to sleep and decide how she felt about the whole thing in the morning.
She put on her bra and panties and a long T-shirt and lay on her side, turned away from him. She stirred for a while, unable to stop replaying what had happened. At one point Andy rolled over and his foot touched hers and she jerked away quickly, as if he repulsed her, which he actually did.
When Katie woke up, Andy was trying to have sex with her again. Well, he wasn’t really trying, but he was hugging her from behind, breathing into her left ear, and she felt his dick pressing up against her butt.
“No,” she said.
“Oh,” Andy said. His voice was crackly from sleep and his breath stank. “Sorry.”
Katie’s heart was throbbing. If Andy tried to touch her again, she was going to turn around and slap him.
“Something wrong?” Andy asked.
She wanted to snap, You mean, except for you trying to stick your dick in me while I was fast asleep? But she didn’t want to overreact, sound nuts, so she said as politely as possible, “I’m just not really a morning-type person.”
Andy didn’t push it. “That’s cool. You just looked so good I couldn’t resist.”
She got out of bed quickly before he could touch her again.
“You sure something isn’t wrong?” he asked.