by T. Bester
Who would have thought?
“So, what happens next?” asks Zoey. She brushes her bangs from her face, and takes a seat beside me at the kitchen counter. “When does your next post have to be up?”
“Monday. I already have the first ‘question’ but haven’t looked at it yet.” It’s folded up and stuck in my diary because I’m a bit of a wimp.
Zoey glances at the clock. “Crap, we have to leave.”
“Where are we going?”
“We are meeting the gang at Cherry’s for dinner. I thought I told you.”
We grab our jackets, and head for the door. “No, but I could do with a night out of the apartment. We’ve been stuck here every night this week.”
“Ugh, I know. Erin said they’d meet us there.”
We’ve both been swamped with school work, and a night with friends sounds like a pretty great way to celebrate Delilah’s success. Not that anyone else knows I’m writing the column. So far, it’s just me, Toby and by default, Zoey. And I’d like to keep it that way.
Thursday nights are always busy in Hudson. Students mill about the streets, vacillating between the various coffee shops that adorn the cobblestoned streets and the bars located closer to the edge of town. Some prefer the comfort of a reading nook, and others the pulsing energy found in a bar. For the rest of us, we go to Cherry’s, a ‘mom and pop’ diner a few blocks from where we stay. Rather than waste any more time, Zoey and I brave the cold and hoof it, sighing in relief when we walk in. A boom of laughter catches our attention, and we find the rest of the ‘gang’, as Zoey likes to call it, in a large corner booth. Erin sits beside Brian, and opposite them sits Nathan and Griffin. Of course, it’s not seeing my brother that makes my tummy dip. I’m happy to see him though, and rather than lament on how absent Nathan has been lately, I focus on Griff.
“We thought you weren’t going to show up,” says Erin, her smile wide and infectious. Nathan and Griffin turn, and promptly get up so that Zoey and I can move in to the booth. The devious little minx climbs in first, placing me firmly between her and Nathan.
“Sorry, we got caught up celebrating,” says Zoey. “It was a big week for the paper.” She winks at me. It was a big week for me too, but we don’t say it.
“Maybe now Toby will chill out,” remarks Brian. The table falls quiet and we all look at Griffin. I knew he was coming back today, we’d spoken about it a few times when Griff sucked it up and called me, but I wasn’t sure how he was going to handle seeing Toby again.
“Sorry, man.” Brian’s expression turns sheepish.
“We can’t not talk about him,” says Griffin. He rests his arms on the table, fiddling with his fingers. “He’s your friend too, and I don’t expect you not to talk to him or about him because things got messed up with us.”
“Have you found a new place to stay?” asks Erin.
“Actually,” Nathan clears his throat. “I offered to have him move in with us. Brian said it was cool.”
I stare at Nathan’s profile, and then glower at Griffin. He didn’t mention any of this to me on the phone, the schmuck.
“Oh great,” teases Erin. “Another man in the house, just what I need.”
“C’mon, babe.” Brian wraps his arm around Erin’s shoulders. “You love us.”
She sighs, and her shoulders slump. “Yeah, I really do. But I’m not doing your washing.”
Griffin smiles. “Don’t worry, my Mom taught me how to operate a washing machine from a young age. You won’t have to take care of me.”
Nathan and Brian snort, and at the same time, say “she can’t help it”.
Zoey laughs beside me, and Erin defiantly folds her arms across her chest. “You’ve never complained before.”
“Not a complaint,” Brian reassures her. “Just an observation. You can’t help taking care of us, it’s who you are.”
He kisses her temple, assuaging any offense she might have felt.
The waitress stops by and takes our orders. Burgers, fries, a side of onion rings and milkshakes, because we’re original like that.
The poor girl doesn’t know where to look though, her gaze caught between Nathan, Griffin and Brian. They’re all tall, well-built, with disarming smiles that could make any girl lose her mind. When she leaves, conversation starts up again, but I’m keenly aware of how quiet Nathan his, his body tense and rigid beside mine. He has a light spatter of hair on his face, making his features more defined. I know he couldn’t have changed since I last saw him, but I study his features as if learning them for the first time. A foot makes contact with my shin under the table, and I catch Zoey smirking at me. She mouths ‘you’re staring’, to which I shake my head, ignoring the flush in my cheeks.
“So, what do you guys think about the new sex advice segment?” Erin looks around, and without missing a beat, Zoey replies, “I think it’s great. It’s about time the paper got a distinctly female voice.”
“What is the point of a column like that?” Brian faces Erin. “You don’t need any advice, I’ve got you covered.”
Erin slaps his arm. “Can you not be a guy right now?”
“You weren’t complaining about me being a guy last night,” he snickers. “Or this morning.”
Erin rolls her eyes. “Honestly, sometimes I think you’re a prepubescent teenager beneath that manly exterior. Anyway, I’m being serious. I didn’t think Toby would go through with it.”
“Why not?” asks Griffin. “Guys talk about sex all the time, why shouldn’t girls be allowed to do the same?”
“Yeah, but c’mon, what would they even ask about?” Brian looks genuinely puzzled, and it’s almost comical. “I can’t imagine asking how to have sex would be taken seriously.”
I shift in my seat. “Don’t you think that’s why they wanted to start it? To have a place where girls can talk about sex without being made fun of?” That’s exactly why it was started, but I don’t say that. As it is, talking about Dear Delilah at all is treading on dangerous territory. Then again, as long as I don’t give away my identity, there’s no harm in it.
In fact, it could be good research to get a guy’s opinion. Everyone knows when it comes to sex, most guys have a vast amount of knowledge and experience on the topic, and who better to speak to than the three guys right here. Covertly, of course.
“Do girls get made fun of for that kind of thing?”
If he only knew.
“It’s not as easy for us t0 talk about,” I tell him. “If we’re open about it, like you guys are, then we’re considered sluts, and if we don’t talk about it, we’re frigid.”
“You say ‘we’ like you’re one of them,” adds Nathan. He watches me closely, and the way his eyes take me in makes my tummy flutter. Wildly.
“I’ve never been made fun of,” I reply, aware that our exchange is being observed by everyone at our table, my brother included. And the audience, for once, doesn’t bother me. “But I admit to being scared to talk about it.” The tension in his body magnifies, the energy pulsing between us. I want to lean closer, feel his warmth, the press of his arms. But I refrain. “If I needed advice, I wouldn’t know who to ask and I know I’m not the only girl who feels that way. So yes, I say ‘we’ because we are a collective, and girls should be supportive of each other.”
It’s Griffins guffaw that breaks the weird tension. “So you’re a man-hating bra burner now?”
Zoey replies before I can. “Being a Feminist doesn’t mean hating men, Griffin. Don’t be so ignorant.”
“Zoey,” I admonish.
“What? It’s true, Sav. You say ‘Feminist’ and people immediately think it’s anti-man.”
“Explain it to me then, Zoey,” says Griffin, his tone brusk and brassy. There’s a different kind of edginess between them, one I never thought would exist. I didn’t even know they knew each other, and if they did, Zoey has never mentioned it. Griffin has been with my parents all week, he has yet to stop by and see my new apartment.
“It’s
quite simple actually.” She narrows her eyes. “Feminism is about equality between the sexes, and being seen as equals in all spheres of life, including the bedroom.”
Griffin opens his mouth, but the waitress interrupts when she brings our food. Erin and I exchange glances, affirming that I’m not the only one who’s glad for the interruption.
“So who’s writing it?” Brian asks around a bite of his burger.
“No one except Toby knows,” replies Erin. “I tried to get him to tell me, but he’s been very tightlipped about it.”
“I think it’s a dude,” says Zoey. “A big, hunky dude.”
Nathan chokes on a fry, and then laughs. “Yeah, because that makes sense, Bean.”
“Think about it,” she muses. “It requires an extensive knowledge of female anatomy. It’s not like we can look at our hoo-ha’s the same way a guy can, unless we squat over a mirror.”
Griffin, Nathan and Brian all cough, making us girls snicker.
“I think it’s a girl,” replies Erin. “The first post was way too insightful for it to have come from a guy.”
Brian and Griffin join in, but the conversation fades away when I feel a hand take mine. I expect it to be Zoey, but she’s moved closer to Erin. I look down and it’s Nathan’s hand engulfing mine.
“Hi,” he says, his voice quiet.
“Hi.”
That’s all we say. And somehow, it’s a start.
ZOEY SIPS HER Latte, watching me with amusement from over the rim of her cup. “I don’t know what the big deal is, Sav. It’s just a letter that needs to be answered. You know that pulling them from a box means you have no say in what gets answered and what doesn’t.”
“I know, but I was hoping the first few letters would be a little more-" I rack my brain for the right word - “reserved.”
I finally plucked up the courage and opened the letter. It reads:
Dear Delilah,
I’ve been seeing this guy for a few weeks, and he finally asked me out on a real date. We both like each other, but my friends said I shouldn’t have sex on the first date. Is that true? — *Jane
Yikes. Talk about jumping in head-first. For me, anyway. I’ve never been on date, so I’m not familiar with the ‘rules’. I know what I’ve heard — a girl should always wait for the third date before she sleeps with a guy. But they never say why.
Zoey places her cup on the table, and then scoots closer. We’re in the campus coffee shop, which is inanely busy. With classes in full swing, and the start of February around the corner, campus is a bustling metropolis of student life.
“I have an idea.” Her smile is mischievous. “Why don’t you find a friend you can have benefits with?”
“Yes, because that sounds like a fantastic idea,” I reply, my tone thick with sarcasm. “You know that’s not something I would ever do, Zo.”
“Pre-Delilah, maybe, but you’re a sex columnist now, Sav. If you want to be the voice of the girls on this campus who are too afraid to embrace their sexuality, then you have to do just that.”
I glare. “When I told you that it wasn’t because I wanted you to use it against me at a later stage.”
“I know,” she shrugs, “but as your friend, it’s my obligation to tell you that life starts on the outside of your comfort zone. If you want to be taken seriously, then you have to start taking yourself seriously.”
“I hate it when you go all Sensei on me,” I mutter.
“But you know I’m right.” She winks. “Like I said, get a friend to help you. I’m sure there are plenty of willing studs wandering around campus.”
“Zoey, be serious.”
“Oh, I am,” she laughs. “Unless you want to go back to watching porn videos for the answers.”
“God.” I cover my face with my hands. “Will you let that go already? It was one time.”
One time too many, obviously.
“Sav, listen to me.” I peak at her through my fingers. “You need to stop worrying so much about the ‘rules’ when it comes to Dear Delilah and just go with it. You’re overthinking it.”
“I can’t help it,” I whine. “That’s how we’re made.”
That gets me a raised brow, and eyes filled with skepticism. “Is that how we’re made, or is it what we’re taught? Because there’s a difference.”
“Fair point, but I’m not the friends-with-benefits type.”
“Have you ever tried it?”
“Well, no, but-"
“But nothing, Sav. You have to stop worrying about what other people think. You’re going to miss out on a whole lot if you keep living on the sidelines.” She goes quiet for a moment, while I mull over her words, and then adds, “Stop thinking of it as a job, and start seeing it as an opportunity to find out who you really are. If you’re not sure about something, ask yourself, what would Delilah do?”
I let out a puff. Maybe she’s right. Maybe it’s time I start embracing Delilah instead of fearing it.
“What’s the worst that can happen?”
13
SAVANNAH
NATHAN BURSTS through my bathroom door, and I scramble to cover myself.
“What the hell?” I shriek.
Last I checked, I was alone in the apartment, and would be for the remainder of the night. Zoey is spending the night with her parents while they’re in town, and as much as I hate staying alone, I had a relaxed evening planned. Just me, my laptop, some wine for liquid courage and PornHub. I had every intention of tackling Delilah’s first letter without the help of some random guy.
Nathan glares at me, his face marred by taut lines, and murderous silver eyes that take me in from head to toe. It only makes me hold on to my towel tighter.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. “Zoey’s not here.”
In fact, I was pretty certain Nathan would have gone with her. His parents are only in town for one night.
“I’m not here for Zoey,” he replies, his tone hard and husky. The steam dissipates around us, and I take him in. He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a red Henley. He grips the door, making his arms tense. “Use me.”
I frown. “What?”
“Use me,” he repeats, except this time it’s more of a bark. “For the ‘Dear Delilah’ column.”
I freeze, my eyes widening. “How did you…”
“If you need someone to help you, use me, not some random guy.”
It takes a minute for me to understand, and when I do, anger runs hot in my veins. The nerve of this guy.
“You’re eavesdropping now?”
“I overheard you and Zoey, but not on purpose.” He steps closer, but I refuse to shrink under his gaze. “You can’t sleep with some fuckwit like it means nothing, Savannah.”
I glower. “First of all, you have no say in what I do, and second, if I were to sleep with some random fuckwit, it would be for research purposes.”
“I’m not having you screw anyone for research, unless it’s me!”
What? Where is this all coming from? I thought last night was a step in the right direction, no matter how small. But, I was wrong, and the guy who so gently held my hand all through dinner is nowhere to be found. Instead, I’m in a staring match with neanderthal. A fucking caveman.
I stab at his chest. “You have no say, Nathan. If I want to screw every Tom, Dick and Harry on this campus, then I will. At least I’ll know they want me!”
His eyes widen, and his nostrils flare.
Guess I’m not as over what happened with us as I thought. I was hoping the time we’ve had apart, whether it was because he was giving me space or avoiding me, would help. So much for that.
“I do want you,” he snarls. Is that supposed to be sexy?
The way my body tingles says ‘yes’ but my mind revolts at the idea of finding such primitive behavior attractive.
“You have a funny way of showing it,” I snap. I storm past him, done with his pissy mood and possessive streak. “You walked away from me, remember?”
I feel him behind me, his eyes on my exposed shoulders. “And I regret it, every damn day. You asked me for space, Savannah, but it wasn’t so that you could jump into bed with someone else.”
I gasp, and spin to face him. “How dare you.” My throat tightens, angry tears making my vision blurry. “You made your choice. You woke up, after spending the night with me, and told me it was a mistake.” I don’t want to cry in front of him, not again, but I haven’t spoken to anyone about what’s going on in my head, afraid that if I were to admit how much I miss him, how badly I want him back in my life, I would be considered weak, and foolish. He’s hurt me before, and I promised myself I would never put myself in a position to be hurt again, but I want so badly to forgive him.
Nathan inhales deeply, his body vibrating with repressed restlessness. “The only mistake I made, was letting you go.”
His words break me. They’ve all I’ve envisioned hearing from him.
I swallow, my hands shaking at my sides. “So, what? You expect us to go back to being friends again, like that’s all we had?”
My voice hitches at the end, and I chalk it down to a ridiculous imbalance of hormones, worrying about how to answer Delilah’s first letter, and having Nathan saying words to me that I never thought he would. I’ve struggled these last two weeks, with my own feelings and my own fears that letting him in again would be a mistake. I keep myself busy with school, and work because it keeps me from thinking about him, and us, and feeling pathetic. Every woman’s magazine will tell me I’m making a mistake, and every columnist will tell me to ‘be strong’ and ‘move on’ but after starting Dear Delilah, and doing my own research, I realize that there is no right and wrong. There is no rulebook, no easy answer. There is only what I want, what I need. And what I want is a life with Nathan in it. What I want is to have the courage to risk everything if it means we have a chance. Some would say I’m weak for even considering giving him a second chance, but they’re not me, and if I’m going to tell a girl who’s in love with a boy to follow her heart, then I have to be prepared to do the same.