I pull him around the side of the house. Behind some bushes.
Tacky, I know, but, hey, they were there.
I gaze at him intently. He follows my gaze down to the front of his Polo, which I unbutton. I start the IOU by spreading his shirt open and kissing the upper part of his chest. Next, I move up to his neck, all very slowly and very deliberately. Eventually, I work my way up to his mouth.
I’m fairly sure I paid my IOU in full.
And I enjoyed it. A lot.
I did leave the party later—much later—but with Phillip, as planned.
After a few dates with Matt, whether or not I would ever lose my virginity was no longer an issue. It happened after three dates and then we were pretty much inseparable. I was convinced that, just like my mom, I had met the love of my life as a freshman. Matt treated me well and had almost earned Phillip and Danny’s stamp of approval. But when we got back from Christmas break, he informed me that he had sort of gotten engaged to a girl from home.
Sort of, meaning I gave her a ring, she’s planned the wedding, she bought a dress, and she booked the church for June.
I have to admit, I was crushed. I really thought he was the one. That’s also when Phillip decided to tell me he always knew Matt was too slick to be trusted. I asked Phillip to please give me an honest opinion of the next guy at the beginning of the relationship, otherwise to keep his big mouth shut with the I told you so’s when it ended.
However, looking back, I’m now convinced there should be a university-wide mandate, just like the one that says that freshmen should live on campus, so they can experience the social aspects of college properly, that freshman girls should not date one guy exclusively.
Because, if you liken the boys available to date at your high school to a meal, then you’d be choosing that meal from a half-filled vending machine.
But at college, choosing a boy to date is like choosing a meal from the biggest, most incredible, All-You-Can-Eat Buffet ever imagined.
And there will be no dieting for me!
Hmm, let’s see, I think I’ll start with a couple of frat pledges, the buff wrestler in sociology class, and the more mature, but totally hot, history grad assistant. Then maybe one of those football players—that hottie who always seems to be on the treadmill next to me when I work out. Maybe I’ll even have some of that cute photographer.
College is so awesome!
It’s really too bad they try to ruin it with classes!
Sophomore year there were more big changes in my life. They were good changes, though, because I decided to make them. First, I sold the house I grew up in. This was a difficult decision, but it was getting hard to keep up and was really just sitting there empty all the time.
The Mackenzies and Diamonds helped me go through everything. They advised me about what I should pack up and keep, and what we should sell.
For example, I kept all the pictures and videos of our family, the cedar hope chest Dad gave to Mom before they were married, Mom’s wedding dress, Grandma’s dining room set and china, things like that. The rest got sold at a big auction. The Diamonds offered to buy the empty lot next door. They didn’t want to miss our annual Thanksgiving Day football game!
Mr. Diamond has been handling the estate and helping me with financial decisions. He really has been doing his best to fill in for my dad. I don’t know what I would do without him. He advised me to take some of the money from the sale of the house and buy a town home in Lincoln. It’s new and within walking distance of the university.
In a ploy to keep me safe, I’m sure, the Macs and Diamonds suggested that Danny and Phillip live with me. Which is fine by me. We get along great and our place is so cool!
It has three bedrooms and a very open floor plan.
At first, the boys said they didn’t care how it was decorated.
“Whatever you think is right,” Danny had said.
So, just to prove a point, Mrs. Mac and I got a swatch of this really ugly pink and purple floral fabric and managed to tell the boys, with a straight face, that we were thinking of ordering a couch in it.
All of a sudden, they cared.
With the moms’ guidance, we had the walls painted a neutral golden color and the trim white. The kitchen has dark wood cabinets and stainless steel appliances. It was supposed to have a wall separating it from the living room, but since we picked it out while it was still being built, we changed it so there is a long bar area instead. The formal dining room has a pool table in the middle of it, and the walls are decorated with beer signs and Nebraska football memorabilia.
The living room looks like a Pottery Barn catalog, with two red leather club chairs and soft, slouchy khaki ultrasuede couches. There are fun pillows and funky curtains that Mrs. Mac made, using a bold, geometric-patterned fabric in khaki, red, and gold.
And God forbid I should forget to mention the huge TV and sound- and gaming system.
I should warn you: if you are on a budget of any kind, or have any kind of time constraints, don’t take boys with you to the electronics store!
Just go by yourself and buy a damn TV.
With the boys involved in this decision, what should have been a simple task, took three very lengthy trips to the store, nights of on-line comparisons—and I’m certain we could have fed a small country on what was spent.
Anyway, I really like the way it has all turned out. We even brought the big hot tub from my house and put it on the patio. We use that thing all the time!
We don’t have big parties or anything. I’ve seen what parties can do to a house and want no part of that! But there always seem to be people over. Danny believes in taking good care of his offensive line, since they have to take care of him, so they’re over most Sundays during football season. They play pool and watch pro football games all day. I usually end up cooking and am always making yummy treats for everybody.
Phillip’s frat brothers tend to hang out at their House, but a few of them come over for FAC (Friday Afternoon Club). And, of course, with so many cute boys around, many of my sorority sisters enjoy frequent visits as well.
I feel like I’m freezing to death. My body is achy, my throat and neck are really sore, and I think my glands are swollen.
I hate to admit it, but I may very well be coming down with something.
It’s a Tuesday night and instead of being at the bar with Phillip and some friends, I’m in the library doing research for a paper that is due in two weeks. I’m actually trying to get a head start on it, which is something I never do. I tend to wait until the last minute.
I have always said that I do my best work under pressure.
And, really, I do.
The teacher for this class is adamant about us using the library and not just the Internet for our research. We have to have five sources that came from the library, so I’m trying to get the five stupid sources out of the way, and then I can use the Internet to do the bulk of the research.
But I’m starting to feel really bad. Actually, I haven’t felt great for a couple of weeks, but I’ve been doing my best to ignore it.
Maybe I’m allergic to the library. I wonder if that could get me out of this stupid paper.
Probably not.
I give up on the resources and go home to an empty house. I take off my clothes, put on a pair of really warm sweat pants, and then raid Danny’s room for an old practice jersey. I love those shirts because they are big and soft and silky. The shirt is huge on me, but feels great. I ease myself into bed and snuggle under my covers in an attempt to get warmed up.
I dozed off for a little while, and when I wake up, I feel even worse.
I am definitely sick.
I wish Mom was here. She always spoiled me when I was sick.
I really miss her and Dad.
Then I think of the next best thing and call Phillip’s cell.
He answers with a cheerful, “Hey.”
There’s a lot of laughing and noise in the background. It sounds
like they’re already having a great time.
I hate missing a great time.
“Phillip,” I whine, “when are you coming home?”
“Not for a while. Are you done at the library? You gonna come join us? You know we’re all at Kegger’s, right?”
“Oh,” I say quietly.
“What’s wrong?” He reads my voice and knows since I didn’t say, I’ll be right there, something must be wrong.
“Nothing, Phillip, I just don’t feel very good.” I sorta start to cry. “Um, well, I feel really bad and I’m all alone,” I sniffle.
“I’ll be right there.” I hear him tell everyone, I gotta go, before he shuts his phone.
I’m really lucky to have Phillip, I think, as I fall back to sleep.
I feel a hand on my forehead and wake to find Phillip at my side.
“My God, Princess, you’re burning up! Have you taken your temperature?”
I shake my head no and close my eyes. My eyelids burn.
Phillip runs in the bathroom and grabs a thermometer. Then he sits on my bed and says, “Here, open your mouth.”
I do, putting the thermometer under my tongue, while Phillip uncovers me.
My whole body is shaking. I really have the chills.
The thermometer beeps and Phillip reads it.
“Gee-zuz, it’s 105. I’m taking you to the hospital!”
He scoops me up out of bed, carries me to the car, and gets me to the hospital.
At the hospital, I’m given some medicine to help bring the fever down.
The doctor is concerned that I might have meningitis, because my neck hurts so badly.
A nurse took some blood and swabbed both my nose and my throat. I am hoping the tests show something, because I really do not want a needle stuck into my spine! I’ve been admitted to the hospital and am in a room by myself. I’m feeling a bit better because my fever is down to 102 degrees. At least it doesn’t hurt to blink anymore.
My doctor, Dr. Daniels, steps in and tells me to start thinking of whom I may have had close contact with recently.
He hands Phillip a little hospital notepad.
“How close of contact?” I ask him.
“Physical contact,” he says simply, as he reads my chart.
Maybe I’m delirious from the fever, but it seems like he’s making this difficult.
So I ask for more clarification. “Like just being around them or actual physical contact?”
He stops reading my chart, looks at me like I’m blonde, and says, “Physical contact. Like kissing.”
“We may need more paper for that, Doc,” Phillip, the comedian in the corner, says.
“Shut up, Phillip.” I glare at him.
But he continues, “Just bring in the student directory. We can use a highlighter, might go faster.”
I try to ignore Phillip and ask the doctor another question.
“How far back does this contact have to go?
“Oh, just a couple of weeks,” the doctor says.
“Why?”
“Well, meningitis can be very contagious and dangerous. It can spread quickly at colleges, but we can treat anyone you’ve been in contact with if we need to. We’ll have a better idea of what we’re dealing with when your tests come back.”
“What about Phillip?” I nod toward the comedian.
“I doubt a kiss on the forehead counts,” Phillip says with his bratty voice.
“Are you two related?” the doctor smiles and asks Phillip.
“No, we’re roommates,” I say, before Phillip has a chance to make another smart-ass remark.
“You’re right,” the doctor tells him. “A kiss on the forehead should be safe. How are you feeling? Any symptoms?”
“Well my back is pretty sore from carrying this lug in here,” Phillip responds, nodding at me.
“Shut. Up. Phillip.” He is so embarrassing me.
The doctor’s beeper goes off. He frowns at it and says, “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
I’m thinking about who I kissed last week, when a memory comes rushing into my head. I put my hand up to my mouth and say, “Oh God, Phillip. Where’s Danny? Have you seen him today? Is he feeling okay?”
Phillip looks at me, stunned. He’s wondering why I would be worried about Danny, but then he puts two and two together and asks incredulously, “Danny? You kissed Danny?”
I smile half a smile and shake my head.
“On the lips?”
Hey, I’m sick here. Stop asking me so many questions.
“Uh, yeah.”
“When?” He gives me a stern look. “And more importantly, why?”
Okay, so I appreciate the fact that he was concerned about me, left the bar and brought me here, but I don’t think this is any of his business and tell him so.
“None of your business, Phillip.”
He looks unhappy with me. Maybe I’ll just mess with Mr. Nosy a little.
So I sigh, like I’m ready to spill my guts.
“Fine. It was a few days ago and it was nothing, really. Just Danny, being Danny.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means, he just walked in the door and kissed me. You know Danny. He doesn’t have to have a reason. He just does stuff.”
Phillip is sitting in the corner with his mouth open. The look on his face cracks me up, but I try not to smile.
It’s good to know that I can be very sick and still have a sense of humor.
After his constant slamming of me in front of the doctor, well, he deserves this.
“It’s not that big of a deal, Phillip, we just kissed some and, well,” I say with a shrug, “one thing led to another, and we spent the afternoon in bed.”
Don’t I wish.
Kinda.
Really, I’m not sure why Danny and I never have slept together. We have definitely hooked up on occasion, but it’s never gone that far. And Danny hasn’t kissed me in front of Phillip since Prom night. Our relationship, from a kissing standpoint, is kinda weird, if I think about it. I guess the whole It will ruin us thing sits in the back of both of our minds. But we have a little tradition of making out when he’s depressed, or had a bad game, or is hurt or something. I think I’m comforting to him. He always tells me that he can’t deal with other girls after a loss, so we meet in our booth at the back of the bar, or at a party or somewhere, get drunk, and make out. Then we come back home and act like it never happened.
Danny is a typical superstitious athlete. He’ll wear the same socks if he gets on a winning streak, and he’s never had two losses in a row if we kiss after a loss. So, I hate to admit it, but sometimes I am not as upset as I should be when the Huskers lose, cuz I know Danny and I will have fun that night. Maybe that’s it. We both know that it’s just for fun. I always tease him and tell him he needs to marry a girl just like Phillip, someone calm, organized, and responsible. Of course, that’s when he tells me, You need to marry Phillip.
And if I am really being truthful, I sometimes wish Phillip would kiss me.
I mean, how many guys would ditch the girl they are dating to come home and take care of you?
But that is a whole other topic.
I glance at Phillip, whose eyes have gotten even bigger. I didn’t think it was possible, but they do.
He is sooo jealous. It’s hilarious, and I can’t help it. I feel a wicked pleasure in that.
“Don’t look so freaked out. Neither one of us is dating anyone seriously, and you know, there’s always been this attraction . . . ”
My story is interrupted by the doctor walking back in the room. He picks my chart up and continues reading it.
I have to tell you, the look on Phillip’s face is totally priceless. I really wish I had a camera.
I bite my lip and try to suppress a smile.
Phillip sees my smirk. “You’re shitting me, aren’t you?”
Then he gives me that glare. The glare that always makes me spill my guts, whether I wa
nt to or not.
Normally, I try to fight it, to no avail, but I don’t even try today.
I am much too weak.
“Yeah, I am.” I smile at him.
“So are you going to tell me what really happened?”
“Yeah, sure. It really is no big deal. He came home the other day when I was getting ready for my sorority meeting. I was vacuuming the living room because some of the girls were coming over afterwards, and you guys left chip crumbs all over the floor. Danny laughed at me and said I looked like a 50’s sitcom, vacuuming in a dress and high heels. He walked out the door, then swung the door back open, and said, Lucy! I’m home! Then he walked over, grabbed me around the waist, dipped me, and kissed me. Like Ricky used to do on those old I Love Lucy reruns. He was just being goofy.”
And, um, confession time.
It wasn’t just a kiss.
He did do the whole Lucy thing, but while I was still leaned back, he asked me if Phillip was home.
I shook my head no.
Then he picked me up, carried me to the couch, laid on top of me, and kissed me intensely. It was totally unexpected and so hot.
I really thought we might cross the line this time. But about the time things were heading that direction, and just after Danny had whispered, I think it’s about time we, you know, and then, Your place or mine, as in who’s bedroom are we going to do this in, we heard Phillip’s car door slam. We both said, Shit, bolted up off the couch, and ran to our own bedrooms before Phillip bounded in the door.
And, poof, the mood vanished.
The doctor was listening to my story, and he’s been standing there very still. He eyes the number 12 football jersey I’m wearing and cries out, “Are you talking about Danny Diamond?”
“Yeah,” Phillip and I say at the same time.
“But the Oklahoma game is this weekend. He can’t be sick!”
Obviously, this man bleeds Husker red, like most everyone in the state.
“Get him here!” he orders.
Phillip calls Danny on his cell and tells him to come to the hospital. As he is talking to Danny, the doctor says, “Tell him to come to this room, like a visitor. We certainly don’t want the media to get wind of this.”
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