25⎜The Answer
“Have you and Scott ever kissed?”
“Yes.”
“How many times?”
“Twelve.”
“Have you and Scott ever dated?”
“Yes.”
“How many times?”
“Once. It didn’t work out. We’re better at being friends.”
“Do you happen to secretly be a nationally ranked basketball player or have any other hidden talents like that?”
“I’m too lazy to play sports. But I used to play the kazoo. I was pretty bad.” I opened my mouth to fire yet another question at the girl, but the timer beeped, indicating that my opportunity was temporarily over. The girl smirked at me. “My turn.”
“Shoot,” I offered, giving her free range over inquiries regarding my life, just as she had with me.
She paused, tucking a loose tendril of curled hair behind her ear. “What about you, Eric, is there anything I should know?”
“Well, I’m a recovering drug addict, for starters,” I said completely solemnly, the weight of my hidden past lifting off my shoulders with the words. It sounded like such a causal thing to slip into conversation, though it wasn’t. I was a drug addict, and I had just admitted it to someone who was now in my life. Like that psychology student had suggested, I was pretty sure that I had found my constant.
“When did you stop doing drugs?”
“In the spring, I guess. I spent the summer in rehab.”
“Are you a virgin?” In a beat, the subject had surprisingly dropped, and we were no onto a new aspect of my life. Namely, my status regarding if I had had sex or not.
I went with it, answering with a quick, “Completely unrelated, but no, I’m not.”
“How much time do you spend getting ready in the morning?”
“More than you.”
“Minutes?”
“Hours.”
“Are you gay?”
“No.”
“Bisexual?”
“No. I like girls.”
“Do you have a type?”
“Specify?”
“Girls?”
“No. Well, actually, that’s not true. They have to have a brain and not be ugly.”
“And yet you’ve only been with two girls… Why?”
“Just because I don’t have a type doesn’t mean that I don’t have standards.”
“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” she asked, just as the noise indicating the end of the questions sounded. Since she had uttered the question before the sound, I was obligated to answer it, as were the guidelines we had set up for whatever exactly it was that we were doing.
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The Boy Who Wore Boat Shoes
Romance❝We were both just two messed up kids with pasts and the power to move forward.❞ Eric Wilson. He was gorgeous. He was the quarterback. He was smart. He was perfect. He was an addict. He didn’t want to be that person anymore, though, so when he mo...
