She felt terrific in my arms. I’d loved holding her, sneaking kisses here and there. “This is nice,” I’d said.

“Yes it is,” she’d agreed. We were silent for awhile before she said, “I know you’ve waited a long time for sex.”

I was so stunned she’d brought up the topic I hadn’t said anything for a moment. “S’okay,” I choked out eventually.

“We have birthdays coming up,” she continued. “Maybe that should be… a big night for us.”

Again, I was too stunned to answer. A few beats went by before I managed to agree with her. “That would be incredible,” I finally whispered.

“I think it will be.” She rubbed my chest with one hand, massaging a slow circle on my pec. Meanwhile, my dick hardened into something approximating an iron bar, just on the possibility that she was actually suggesting what I thought she was suggesting.

I slept very little that night. And for these past two weeks, whenever I kissed Alison goodnight, I became comically horny.

And now? I was hiding in a stairwell, practically splitting out of my skin with nervous anticipation.

Three and a half floors below me, the entryway door slammed. I heard footstep. Someone was jogging up the stairs.

That woke me up. I took a moment to fold my jacket over my arm and pick up the gift bag again. After giving myself the once-over, I began to quietly descend the stairs, as if it were perfectly normal for me to come from that direction. If I passed whomever was climbing, I’d give him a calm nod. Everything is fine, there’s nothing to see here. Just your average twenty year old on his way to get his V-card stamped. Carry on.

But I didn’t get the chance. The climbing footsteps stopped, and I heard a sharp rap on a wooden door. Then, the click of a door opening. “Surprise!” a guy’s voice called.

Weirdly, the guy’s voice seemed to originate from Alison’s doorway. I’m not sure why, but I took the last three or four stairs at a slow, stealthy pace. Just as Alison’s startled voice said, “Oh my God! What are you doing here?” the guy came into view.

He was tall and thin, but my attention went straight to the shiny Rolex hanging loosely on his wrist. I’m from New York City, so I could spot those at a hundred yards. Mr. Rolex was a rich boy.

“I told you I wanted to see you again. And what better time than on your birthday?” He stepped into Alison’s room, disappearing from view.

Some kind of gravitational force drew me down the last steps quickly enough to wedge my foot between the door and its frame. The view I saw next was sickening. Mr. Rolex had wrapped his arms around Alison’s waist, and was liplocked to the girl.

My girl.

“What the fuck?” I said, pushing the door open. And since the question was reverberating through my mind like a gong, I said it a second time. “What. The. Fuck?”

Alison’s arms shot out to her sides, as if she’d just received an electric jolt. Mr. Rolex let her go and turned around. “Who are you?” he asked, his eyebrows disappearing into his hundred-dollar haircut.

“Who am I? I’m the boyfriend.” I was sputtering with indignation, but I couldn’t stop talking. “The boyfriend since last April. That’s… five months ago. Almost six.” As if an accurate accounting really mattered.

Alison’s mouth kept opening and closing, like the goldfish I used to keep in a little bowl on the window sill in our apartment.

Mr. Rolex was not so quiet. And he looked almost as surprised as I felt. “The boyfriend? We were together for six weeks in Ecuador, and you never mentioned a boyfriend.”

At least I wasn’t the only one interested in getting the accounting right.

“I told you I wasn’t looking for a relationship,” she whispered in his direction.

“But you never said why. I guess that makes me an idiot.” Mr. Rolex actually had the balls to look sad about it.

Now that I’d been standing in the room for almost a minute, other little details were making themselves clear to me. Mr. Rolex had a bouquet of roses in one hand.

Flowers! I forgot flowers. To strew on the bed.

Wait. There wasn’t going to be any strewing. Or any bed. My feeble brain could barely wrap itself around the vastness of this problem. It was just so unexpected. I’d never wondered if Alison had someone on the side. Even if we’d never been naked together, we’d been together. For a long time.

I stood there, slack-jawed, my silly little gift bag in my hand, realizing I’d missed something important. “If she didn’t want a relationship from you,” I asked Mr. Rolex, “then what did she want? A Scrabble opponent?” My face began to heat as truth smoldered in my chest. “A study buddy? A foot massage?” I turned to face her directly. “Tonight was supposed to be the night we both lost our virginity, Alison.”




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