"Wow. Thanks." She smiled.
"What can I get you guys to drink?" We looked up to see our waitress smiling at us.
"Actually, I’m ready to order. Andi, are you?"
"Yup."
"Okay, what can I get you?" We ordered, and the waitress left, returning within a few minutes to bring us our drinks.
"So, what do you find attractive in a guy?" Haley asked, sipping her Coke.
"What do I find attractive in someone?" She nodded. "Hmm. Good question." I took the paper off my straw as I thought. What do I find attractive? "Well, I guess I’d have to say honesty, fun-loving, good sense of humor, takes care of themselves. And, probably most importantly, they must have a brain. So few people in the world seem to, now days. What is up with that?"
"Yeah, smarts doesn’t seem to be a big fixture with a lot of people. Who knows." She shrugged, then studied me, soda in her hand, but she didn’t drink. It was almost as if she were having some internal conversation with herself about me. Shaking herself out of it, she brought the straw to her lips, and began to drink. "So, you sort of answered my question."
"What? I answered you."
"I want to know what you find attractive, you know, outside. What kind of guy, or man, in your case, are you attracted to. Physically."
Hmm. No generic answer for that one. Truth be told, I didn’t know. "Well, I guess the type of person I’m attracted to is someone who takes care of themselves physically. I love a nice body. I know that sounds horribly stuck up of me, but I take care of myself, and to me when someone does, it says something about that person."
"Like what?"
"Well, that they care about themselves, their health, the way that they look. I don’t want someone who needs a mirror every two seconds, in fact that’s quite the turn off, but I don’t want someone who sits around on their ass all day, either." Haley looked at me, cocked her head slightly to the side, and smiled.
"Do you realize you used just about every pronoun except he or she just now?"
"Huh?"
"Yeah, you never said he. Andi, do you like guys?" I was quite taken aback by the question. Do I like guys, who doesn’t?
"Yeah. To the extent that they’re likeable. You talk about me, why aren’t you dating? I know for sure you’re asked out daily."
"Well, not quite daily, but often, yes. I just got out of a relationship with Brad over the summer."
"So? So did I, yet you seem to think it’s so odd that I’m single. What about you?"
"Okay, okay. You got me. I’ll leave you alone." She leaned in. "For now."
"Okay, so here’s what I’m thinking." Haley took a bite of her third brownie, chewing quickly so she could talk. "Make a chart, or a poster, and on one side make a big sign that says penis, and on the other side, one that says womb." I munched on my own brownie as we sat on the floor in the middle of the living room of my house. My mom and her boyfriend, Clive were downstairs watching a movie. Chris? Who cares.
"So, do you think pictures would go well in this? I mean, I could drag out my digital camera, and head out into the big, bad world."
"Yeah, I could see that. Just get creative, Andi. However, I do think some pictures would be best left out of it." She grinned, and I threw a pillow from the couch at her. "You could have bullets under each side with little flip up signs with information or questions underneath."
"Okay." Haley looked at her watch.
"Shit, I have to go. Drop me off?" I nodded, and gathered all my papers together, piling them on the coffee table for later.
"Thanks for all your help, Haley. I really appreciate it."
"Sure. No problem. I intend to keep helping with this, if that’s cool?" I smiled.
"Yeah, definitely." She stood, grabbed her purse and jacket from the couch.
"Ready?" Keys in hand, we headed out. "Oh," she stopped at the front door, me nearly slamming into her as she dug into her purse to grab a small notebook and pen. "You said you didn’t have my number the other day. Well, the top one is my home number, and the one below is my cell phone." She glanced up at me. "You know, just in case you felt like calling in the middle of the night, or something." With a grin she handed me the paper.
"Thanks." I tucked it into my pocket, and followed her out to the car.
I turned over onto my left side, pulling the covers up to my chin. Too hot. Pushing them under my arm, I rolled onto my stomach. No good. With a growl, I sat up, glanced over at the clock. It was nearly two in the morning, yet I could not get comfortable, nor fall deeply asleep. I saw the blinking light on my phone, then remembered that Haley had given me her number.
Pushing the covers off me, I found my jeans on the floor, and rifled through the pockets until I felt the folded paper. Getting back under the covers, I reached for the receiver, and dialed the numbers to her cell. I grabbed the impromptu tool from an earlier art project, where I’d been using the holes in a potato masher to create a diamond pattern on the page. I had nervous energy rushing through me as the phone rang, once, twice,
"Okay, what did you forget, Kelly?" asked the sleep-deepened voice.
"Huh?" I was confused. "This isn’t Kelly."
"Oh. Who is this?" She seemed to waken more. She paused for a moment, "Um, Andi?"
"Yeah. Did I wake you?" I began to beat the masher lightly against my headboard, my hand taking on a life of its own.
"Well, I just went to bed, what on earth is that noise?" I stopped banging.
"Nothing."
"What are you doing over there? Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I’m fine. I guess I just felt like calling you in the middle of the night."
"Oh, I see. And as for what you’re doing?"
"Banging."
"Excuse me? Did you say banging?"
"Yup."
"Huh. This is interesting. Where are you?" I could hear her shifting in her bed. I did the same, scooting down to lay on my side, holding myself up with my phone hand’s elbow.
"In bed."
"Oh, so you didn’t stay up, watching the clock, waiting for exactly," she paused, "ten minutes after I went to bed."
"Nope, no such luck. If only I were that talented."
"Well, you seem to be pretty talented with the whole banging thing. I hear you going at it, again." I smiled into the phone, the rhythmic tapping of the masher on the side table obviously amusing to her.
"I take pride in all my talents."
"As well you should. So, what is getting banged?"
"What makes you think it’s anything of consequence?"
"Well, I seriously doubt, and hope, it’s not a body part of yours."
"Nope." I brought the masher to my eyes, looking at it in the moonlight, the metal part shining in the darkness.
"What is it used for? Other than banging, that is." She shifted again, her voice dropping a bit as she got comfortable. I could almost picture her in her bed, staring up at the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling.
"Well, it’s used in the kitchen." I heard her chuckle.
"Oh, really? So, it’s hard, then?"
"Yes." I was enjoying the game, though quite surprised that I was engaged in it.
"What else?"
"Hmm. Let’s see," I ran my hand all over it. "It’s cold, generally. Well, that is, part of it is metal."
"Really? Aren’t we into the kinky side of life?" I chuckled. "Is this thing with you every night?"
"No. Only on special occasions."
"Really?" I smiled at the surprise in her voice. "And tonight was a special occasion?"
"Yes. Brought on by Mrs. Carusso."
"What? What does the art teacher have to do with it?!" I laughed out loud, then covered my mouth as I didn’t want to wake my mom or Chris.
"It’s a potato masher. I traced the design for a project tonight." I smiled at the laughter on the other end of the phone.
"Well, it certainly is hard enough to bang with." I covered my eyes with my hand.
"Oh, Haley." More laughter. "So what about you? Do you have anything special you sleep with?" Pause. "Haley?" Pause. "What is it?"
"Nothing."
"Yeah, that’s a crock. Spill it, woman."
"Well, it’s rubber."
"It’s a rubber? You sleep with a condom?"
"No, no, it’s made of rubber."
"Really? Is it smaller than a loaf of bread?"
"Yes." I could hear her smile in her voice.
"How big?"
"It’s a handful. You know what they say, anything more is a waste." Yet again my eyes found themselves covered. Oh boy. I heard the snap of rubber. It sounded just like one of our latex gloves in the lab. "What, are you into the five-fingered pleasure?" A low, evil chuckle met my ear.
"Maybe." My eyes bulged. "No, it’s a Koosh."
"A what?"
"A Koosh ball. You know, the round, rubber things with lots of little, limp spines?"
"Little, limp spines? Poor thing. It must feel so useless."
"I imagine so."
"So, um, were you huddled around this thing when I stayed over?" Pause. "You did, didn’t you?"
"It was under my pillow."
"And all while I was in the next bed. How could you?" She laughed, then quieted.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"At this point you feel the need to preempt with ‘can’?" I smiled.
"Yeah, guess that’s kind of unnecessary now, huh? Anyway, well, you didn’t like Ryan, right?" I groaned, flopping over onto my back.
"No. Too boring."
"Do you like boys?" I paused, taken off guard by the question. "I guess that was a little forward, wasn’t it?"
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