“You can say tits. You know that, right?”
“Of course, I can say tits,” he answers, his cheeks still flaming. “Tits, tits, tits.”
“Ooh, I could make it a cheer! You’re a genius, Mick. We’ll work on the tits cheer later tonight, okay?”
“You’re coming over tonight?” he asks as he holds the door open for me.
It’s early March, so there’s still a chill in the air, but spring is on the way. I can feel it. “I thought I would. I want to see the kittens and check on Hazel and Doug. I want to see how parenthood is treating them.”
“Oh, yeah. They’re good, but I know they’d love to see you. You should bring your stuff. You know, in case you get tired and want to crash.”
It’s not a strange invitation. I slept at Mickey’s house—in his room and in his bed— for a good portion of the fall semester. But I haven’t stayed over in a while. As soon as cheer season ended in mid-January, I had breast implant surgery. I’d wanted it for years, and I decided it would be my graduation present to myself. I’m so glad I did it, but the recovery was tougher than I expected. I stayed with Maggie and JT for a few weeks because even though Maggie is the most squeamish person I know, she helped change my bandages like only a true bestie could.
I could have asked Mickey. He would have. And things are totally platonic between us, so it wouldn’t have been weird. I mean, we are just friends. Everybody looks at us like we’re crazy when we tell them that, but it’s true. I don’t think anyone believes us, and I’m sure Mickey’s as sick of the questions as I am.
That’s another reason I stayed away, if I’m being honest. Being with Mickey became so easy, and more than once, I was tempted to act on my attraction. But that would complicate things. I’m graduating in two months. And I know Mickeyadores me, but he’s never really given any indication that he’d be into hooking up. And that’s all it could ever be.
So, yeah…it was easier to stay away for a while. But I miss my best friend. I miss lying on his couch with my head in his lap while we watch documentaries about serial killers. I miss making popcorn at midnight, and I miss snuggling him when I’m too scared to fall asleep.
And since graduation really is just around the corner, we don’t have too many sleepovers left until things change for good. That’s it. Decision made. “I’ll bring pjs in case I get tired,” I tell him, “but I think I left my shower stuff at your place, so I should be good there.”
Mickey ducks his head slightly. “Your toothbrush is still in the drawer, and so is that weird charcoal toothpaste you like.”
“What about my hair stuff? My body wash?” A completely irrational sense of rage sweeps through me at the thought of some other bitch using my shit. Some bitch who had her grubby little paws on Mickey.
“It’s just that it smells so freaking good. Plus, the conditioner you use is hydrating, and Bridgette says I need that, and I’m really sorry. I’ll get you more.”
“What?” I ask, doing my best to catch up to the conversation. I missed what he said first because I was busy fantasizing about clawing some ho’s eyes out.
“I used your stuff. There might be a little body wash left. Okay, that’s a lie. I used it all. Just tell me where to get it, and I’ll restock. I really am sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I say, feeling a sense of relief that I have no business feeling. “I can’t blame you for wanting to smell like me. I’ve been told I smell good enough to eat,” Mickey’s face goes beet red at my teasing. “Seriously, don’t stress. I’ve got more at my place. I’ll bring it over, and you can use it whenever you like.I don’t mind sharing. I feel like it’s only fair, since I might have stolen the blankets once or twice.”
His jaw goes slack. “Once or twice? My ass cheeks could have frozen because of you. It’s a good thing I run hot or I could have died of hypothermia and you’d only have yourself to blame.”
“Uh, myself, and the fact that you basically sleep naked,” I reply. “Those tightie whities aren’t keeping you warm, Mick.”
“I know,” he answers. “That’s why I have a blanket. Which you like to steal.”
“Then I guess we’re both thieves,” I say, making a little heart with my hands as I turn left and head to class. “See you tonight.”
3
Mickey
Iwatch as Viv walks away. And I probably stare too long. And there’s a good chance that drool is going to start dripping from lips. God, she’s fucking beautiful. She’s all sunshine and good energy. She radiates calm and happiness, even though there’s nothing chill about her. Wherever she goes, Viv takes up space, and I love that about her. She’s not quiet or shy, not timid or hesitant. She’s unapologetic and perfect.
And she’s not sick of me yet.
As crazy as it seems, Viv loves me just as much as I love her. And yes, we love each other. And yes, we say it. Of course, we do. I tell JT I love him all the time. Why would it be any different just because my other best friend is a girl?
Oh, is it because I’m actually madly in love with her and I want to spend the rest of my life worshipping her both figuratively and literally?
Well, yeah. Okay. Fair point. But Viv doesn’t know that. And I don’t plan on spilling the beans any time soon. She’s going to graduate in two months and then she’ll be off to who knows where. I know the yoga studio in town has offered her a job, and even though I really hope she takes it, I want her to followher dreams. But that means we don’t have much time until everything changes. I’ve kept this secret to myself long enough. What’s a few more weeks?
It doesn’t take long to walk back to the hockey house, and when I walk inside, I’m torn between getting a shower and grabbing a snack. I’m starving. But I’m also sweaty. And I’m half-hard from spending the better part of an hour watching Viv bend herself into all kinds of positions.
Fuck it. A shower burrito sounds pretty damn good right now.
