“Love you,” I said, before I hung up and turned to Missy. “What’s wrong?”
“I am so over college boys,” she sighed, collapsing onto her bed. “Seriously, they’re all immature pricks.”
“What happened?” I asked, in amusement.
“Dalton.”
“Oh,” I said. “Him again.”
“Yes,” Missy nodded. “Him again. I finally caved and decided to give him a second chance.”
“I take it he disappointed?”
“More than you know,” she responded, with her standard eye roll. “We went back to his dorm and had sex on his desk; five minutes later, it was all over. I mean, how rude is that?”
“I don’t get it,” I said seriously. “How was that rude?”
“I didn’t even have a chance to reach orgasm,” she complained. “It was all about him.”
“Oh,” I said lamely.
“He zipped up his pants and looked at me all smug, too… Like he had done me a favor,” she continued.
“What did you do?”
“I told him that I could barely feel his penis inside me,” Missy replied, with a wicked smile. “Then I made a dramatic exit.”
I smiled. “You were never one for subtlety.”
“Subtlety is so boring,” she agreed, as her smile relaxed a little.
Sometimes it surprised me that Missy and I had become friends at all. She was the stunning, green-eyed redhead with the outgoing personality and the sharp tongue, and I was the shy, bookish nerd who hid behind glasses and loose clothing.
“So… I take it you and Dalton are definitely done?”
“He doesn’t deserve me,” Missy said, with finality. “Whatever… I have other fish to fry.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning there’s this hottie who sits in front of me in Spanish class – and he looks like he knows his way around a woman’s body.”
“This is based on…”
“My keen intuition,” she replied.
“Funny that your keen intuition let you down with Dalton,” I pointed out.
She rolled her eyes at me. “Sometimes it’s really annoying to have a smartass for a best friend.”
I laughed. “Forgive me for pointing this out, but shouldn’t you be in class to, oh, I don’t know…actually learn something?”
Missy shook her head at me. “You are so disappointing, Nat.”
I adjusted my glasses and pretended to look hurt. “You wound me.”
“Can I ask you a serious question?” she asked, looking me straight in the eye.
“Um, no thanks?”