“Yup, Amanda and I are already all caught up, so why don’t you tell us all about the sex you had last night.” Marissa throws it out there in her blasé way. I knew I wouldn't be able to keep it from her. I swear to God the woman has sex-dar, but sadly no tact.
“Marissa! I did not have sex last night,” I scoff quietly. The people in front of us in line have turned around pretending not to listen. I don’t need to give them more details.
Marissa turns her back to the eavesdropping couple, her head tilted to scrutinize me more. “Yes, you did. Don’t fight it, Pen. It’s easier if you give in and tell us. And don't leave out the details on the hickey either.”
“Oh my God.” Why is she my friend again?
Amanda stands next to Marissa, her back now to the couple as well. “Did you really?” Her blue eyes are wide probably in search of whatever clue gave me away to Marissa.
“Yes, she did. Come on, Pen. This is the circle of trust. It all stays in the circle.” She looks at Amanda for her agreement while her arm and hand make a wide circle signifying our group’s placement within its boundaries.
“I didn’t. I swear. We didn’t get that far before I called the game,” I promise them and then laugh at my own use of baseball lingo continued from last night.
Amanda pops her hip, “Spill it.” Marissa has rubbed off on her in the span of an hour and a half. It’s scary.
I give them the bare rundown of last night’s events doing my best to keep my story from the rest of the line’s occupants. We cross the threshold to the restaurant as I finish and order three Tahiti French Toasts and coffees then stand to the side waiting. I use the time to stare at the art prints hanging from the one exposed brick wall. I try my best not to drool at the food other customers are eating at the few small tables available inside. At this point I’m famished. I consider the legal ramifications of making off with someone’s plate, but again, knowing my brother would have to bail me out stops my reckless thoughts.
“We are never going to get a table in here or the upstairs patio. Let’s walk to the park and sit there,” Amanda suggests as her eyes take in the desperate situation herself.
“Please don’t ruin the nice June weather by suggesting we sit outside and eat in it,” Marissa pleads, but is overruled.
Buena Vista Park is picked for its close location and we pick a spot on the top of the grassy hill to eat.
“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” Marissa comments. "I want to be in the city so badly. Oakland is great, but we don’t have this view.”
She isn’t wrong. From our vantage point, rows and rows of the city stretch out in front of us before they run into the fog hiding the bay. It’s breathtaking. Well worth all the ridiculous rules I’ve agreed to for the privilege for living in this miraculous city.
“Yes, but enough with the view. Let’s get back to this item with you and Finn. How do we feel about our girl, Pen, dating a guy who plays video games?” Amanda breaks the mood with her question.
I figure I’ll eat while they discuss my non-existent relationship with Finn. With Marissa it won’t matter what I think or say anyway. I open my take-away sack and remove the container with my late breakfast and early lunch.
“I’m conflicted. On the one hand I like that he’s so sweet and that he made last night all about her. It was a good orgasm. Pen would have told us about it if the experience was bad. She keeps the good ones locked up. On the other hand… he does play video games for a living. I’m not sure what it says about a person,” Marissa puts in her two cents on a situation she has no say in.
My plan is to ignore them in hopes they’ll both go away. It’s improbable, but there’s also always spontaneous combustion to look forward to if I need a Plan B.
“I agree, but he must be somewhat important to have use of a company car.”
The French toast is piled two pieces high, a banana sliced in half sits on top with some kind of caramel sauce running down the sides. I inch my nose closer and take in the cinnamon and sugar smells. At my first bite I declare it heaven.
My moan spurs Marissa to push me on the arm, and I sway, almost spilling the sugary goodness. “Are you listening to any of the advice we’re giving to you about Finn?”
I look shocked. “Oh, you’re talkingtome about it? I thought you were just both sitting around speculating on my life. I didn't realize my input was actually required.”
Marissa laughs. “Dork.” She suddenly takes out her cell phone and begins swiping at the screen in a flurry of movement.
“Who are you texting so furiously?” I ask when she doesn’t stop right away.
“My sister. I want to update her on your orgasm.”
“Not necessary, but thanks.” My head shakes at her excitement. Someone might think it was her who had the wild night with how she’s acting.
I give Amanda the rundown on Marissa’s sister while she continues to churn out text messages. Julie is seven years older than us, but whenever we needed boy advice in college, we went to her. Well, phoned since she lives in Boston with her husband, but video chat got us through more than one broken heart. As for a sister, I have no one to compare her to, but she made me an honorary sibling and that makes her rock.
“Freaking autocorrect. It switched orgasm to organism. Now Julie is going to think you’re back in biology class and doing weird things with a kid named Finn.” Her fingers go back to her phone in what I can only assume is her attempt to correct the error.
Amanda and I both laugh at her serious demeanor over the mistake, but then Amanda pipes in, “My phone can’t learn orgasm or any of the good words either. I don’t even know what ducking is.”
Marissa places her device back in the pocket it came from, hopefully done updating her family about my situation. “Probably because nerds invented the software and they don’t know what an orgasm is either.”
