“Why do you have to be mean like that?”
“Oh, please,” Nico said rolling her eyes. “I did her a favor. She’s hurrying back to her apartment or dorm and when she gets there she’s going to lock her bedroom door, jump into bed and jam as many fingers as possible up her tight little cunt. And as she’s frigging herself to a glorious climax she’ll be thinking about your big, fat cock and how it would feel in her mouth or maybe her cunt. Come to think of it, I also did you a favor.”
I shifted nervously and leaned in, lowering my voice. “Anyways, what I mean is, I like being with you more than anyone else. I want to be with you, and only you.”
Her green eyes became hard ice in an instant. The dagger of her stare pierced me through the heart and I died a little inside. “I can’t have a boyfriend,” she recited her mantra.
“This is absurd. Considering our situation, we’re practically boyfriend and girlfriend, just not in a traditional sense.” Nico glowered at me from across the table. “Is it your parents? If so, I’m willing to meet them right now and you know how I am around new people.”
“I’m not going to discuss it!” Her words had acquired a razor’s edge and I knew her next words were going to cut me deeply. We sat in stony silence as she finished her tea. Nico clanged her cup hard on the table, whispered, “Fuck you!” and grabbed her backpack and stalked out.
I didn’t bother to follow because I knew she didn’t want to talk to me. I waited a few minutes before leaving, turning in the direction opposite of Nico’s. My insides were roiling with doubt and despair. Had I ruined a good thing, something so strange and unique that if I told anyone they wouldn’t believe me? Was the damage irreversible?
Nico punished me by not returning my calls and texts for almost a week. When she did finally contact me she made no mention of what I had said. Instead, she had set me up with another client for the following Saturday. Nico also told me she wouldn’t be there as she had to go home for the weekend. I took it to mean she was still mad. The lead weight in my stomach grew heavier and sank lower. I wasn’t interested in seeing a client but I really didn’t have a choice. Nico expected me to go and, of course, I always did what she said.
Promptly at nine, I put my game face on and knocked on the door of an off-campus apartment on the south side of town. The client, Kelly, had wavy, shoulder-length strawberry-blond hair, a round face, and large blue eyes. Grey sweatpants and a hooded sweatshirt masked the shape of her body. All I knew was that she was only a few inches shorter than me. Kelly smiled nervously, biting her lower lip, as she invited me in. I kicked off my shoes and followed her down a long narrow hallway to the living room furnished with the typical cheap rental unit furniture.
“Have a seat,” she said pointing to the couch. “Would you like a drink?”
Normally, I would have declined but since I was in a sour mood I figured a drink or two might help. “Yeah, sure.”
Kelly stood on her tiptoes and looked in a kitchen cabinet. “Looks like we have tequila or tequila.” She pulled out a bottle and held it up. “I recommend the tequila.” She returned with the bottle, a couple of glasses, a small bowl of lemon wedges, and a salt shaker, and knelt at the coffee table opposite of me. “Have you done tequila shots before?” I shook my head. “It’s simple. Wet the back of your hand here,” she licked the skin between her thumb and forefinger, “sprinkle on some salt, lick the salt off, throw the shot back and suck on the lemon.” She did the last three in rapid succession. “The trick is to do it quickly.”