“Can I see this list?”
Nervousness twitched across her face, but she reached over and grabbed her knapsack off the floor. She took out a folded piece of paper and handed it to him with an instruction. “Don’t laugh at me, okay?”
He nodded and unfolded the paper. It may have been a tactic to distract herself from impending embarrassment, but she moved her hand to his hair, twirling the short strands around her finger as he began reading. “Okay, number one: Try a mind-altering substance.” There was tick next to that one and he moved on. “Number two: Get a tattoo.” There was a tick next to that one as well and he glanced over at her. “You got a tattoo?”
She nodded.
“Where?”
“It’s…it’s uh…in a special place. I’m not gonna tell you.”
She was generally open about everything, so he respected the fact that she wanted to keep it a secret and didn’t question it further. He pulled her hand away from his hair and brought it down onto his shoulder, keeping his hand over hers so she would stop touching him. It felt oddly intimate, just sitting there holding her hand, but he brushed it off and made his way down the list. “Number three: Have some sex.” He looked over at her again. “Just some?”
“Yeah, I don’t want to go overboard and turn into a slut.”
He cringed a little. That word really rubbed him the wrong way. Some guys at school used to call Claire that behind her back and it bothered him to no end. If he’d been the type to resort to violence, he definitely would have thrown punches for that. “I’m going to be brutally honest with you.”
“I don’t know you to be any other way.”
“Firstly, let’s just address the termslut.” Assuming that she got the hint to stop touching him, he let go of her hand before he continued. “It’s extremely derogatory and if a woman chooses to sleep with a hundred guys instead of one, that’s her choice and she shouldn’t be labelled for it. So if you want to experiment…responsibly and go butt-wild, that wouldn’t make you a slut. And don’t ever let a guy tell you otherwise.”
That speech, just like the kiss, was going to backfire at some point. He could feel it, because even as he said the words, the thought of some guy putting his hands on her was fucking with his head a bit. He couldn’t understand it. He wasn’t even attracted to her…at least not in the traditional sense. Taking heed of what Mandy had said, he put it down as protectiveness and moved on.
“And secondly…” He paused, wondering if he should take the conversation in that direction. “Aren’t you…a virgin?”
The question didn’t even strike her as inappropriate and she answered like he’d just asked how she liked her coffee. “Notreally…I can do the splits and that sort of ripped my hymen, so technically I lost my virginity stretched out between two chairs.”
He shut his eyes, trying to rid himself of the images, but they were mercilessly burning themselves into his brain. How could she tell himthat, yet her tattoo was a secret? “I don’t…I don’t know why I asked that…I regret it. Forget I said anything.”
“Oh. If you’re asking…in a sexual sense…then yes, I’m still a virgin.”
“So…you think you can go out, meet some stranger, and just have sex with him?”
A nonchalant shrug was what he got in return. “Yeah. It’s not like I want my first time to be special or anything. Sex is mechanical. It’s just a biological thing two people do, which apparently makes them feel good. It’s like eating or jogging. It’s momentary and satisfying and simultaneously fulfills a basic human need, but once it’s over, you move on with life.”
His mind toyed with the challenge of proving her wrong, but he swiftly nipped that in the bud. “You don’t know anything. Sex isnotlike jogging. Letting someone you barely know into your personal space is not easy. It requires some level of trust and patience to learn another person’s body. And then to get naked with that person…” It was strange that he actually sounded like the sentimental one between the two of them. “I’m calling bullshit, Jasmin. You were freaking out for wearing a dress, where you were still fully covered, mind you. I don’t think you have it in you to have a one-night stand.”
“I’m new at this,” she responded, still unfazed. “I’m not comfortable yet, but I’ll get there. I just have to put myself out there a bit more and be willing to…experiment. Who knows what would have happened if I just kissed Dean yesterday?”
He froze, his fists clenching without him even realizing it. This was a strange feeling and it didn’t feel at all like protectiveness. “Who’s Dean?”
“He’s Mandy’s future brother-in-law. He’s actually a really nice guy…and super cute. Not as hot as you, but he’s definitely nice to look at. A bit touchy-feely, though. He tried to kiss me a couple times, but…”
Kevin stopped listening. This feeling that wasn’t protectiveness was intensifying with every word. “What’s next?” he asked, cutting her off as he glanced at the paper again. “Number four: Do something scary. Why is there a tick next to this one?”
She smiled. “I picked up Larry the Lumberjack, remember?”
“Okay. Number five: Make lots of friends.” He tried to hold back a sneer. “This one is even dumber than number three.”
Her eyebrows creased as she glared at him. “Why are you being such an asshole?”
“There is more of a chance of you having fifty one-night stands between here and Georgia than you makingonereal friend.” He noticed that small twitch of her face, the brain-drain twitch. What he’d said hurt her feelings. She took it like he said no one would want to beherfriend, because…issues, but that’s not how he meant it. “Jasmin, a friend isn’t someone who likes your photos on Instagram or shares you posts on Facebook. Friends aren’t people who take you out for a good time and get you drunk. A friend…arealfriend is someone who knows what mood you’re in by the way you say hello…and he doesn’t care if you’re in a bad mood on one day because he knows he’s gonna be there the next. A friend will tell his momma to make you chicken soup when you’re sick, then spend the whole the day in your room playing video games so you don’t have to be alone. A friend will give you his last Oreo just to make you feel better. That’s a real friend…and I guarantee you won’t findthatin any of the random people you’re gonna meet on this road trip.”
She stared at him, pensive and apprehensive. “Who is he? Your friend? He sounds like a great guy.”
Kevin gritted his teeth and cast his eyes to the floor. With just a few words he’d given too much away. “It’s hypothetical,” he answered softly. “I don’t have any friends.”
He went quiet, allowing the weight of his last sentence to settle on his shoulders, the overwhelming burden of guilt. He didn’t have any friends, not anymore. He was alive and well and on his way to Florida to fulfill a dream that wasn’t his. Placing his hand on his chest, he felt the dog-tag chain beneath his sweater. It was a constant reminder of what he’d lost. What took fifteen years to build was destroyed in a split second.
