The Temporary Virginity of the American Player

6. I Think She Makes Me Feel Like an Idiot on Purpose.

So jogging hadn't exactly gone as planned. It certainly couldn't have gone any worse. I had a bruise on my leg the size of a softball and I had a dent in my pride the size of Marianas Trench.  Johnny had barely spoken about Lena...it was like he didn't want to talk about her at all, which was irritating. I could tell he was interested in her. She was beautiful, he had to be. It took pulling teeth out of the kid's mouth to get a few words about her out of him, and all I got were little bits and pieces of obvious information.

She's pretty. Yeah, I like her eyes too. She seemed nice. Maybe I'd take her out if you weren't antagonizing me.

Didn't believe the last one myself and neither did Joe. Yeah, we knew Johnny a little too well. The kid was a fantastic package of everything a girl could possibly want. He was smart, funny, good-looking, tree-hugging, a blonde, and the nicest guy you could ever meet. But for some reason, he was shy. Ever since Christy, anyway. He hadn't been shy before Christy but the witch had him whipped.

I sat with an icepack on my leg, splayed across the sofa like a broken doll and flipping through crappy TV channels. The last thing I wanted to do was settle down in front of the television for a second time over the weekend, but it looked like that was my fate for the night. Joe and Johnny had gone out for the whole night to visit Johnny's cousin, leaving me to wallow in my lack of action; and I seriously needed some action. I was beginning to feel like death again, this one a little more graphic than the last time. This was death by over-intense sex drive. So what did I do? I decided to put myself through more torture and drag myself to La Vida Café.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Lena said from behind the counter. The place was empty as usual come this time of night. "Couldn't handle your libido?"

"Ha-ha, so funny," I sneered, falling into the usual booth as she got to work on a cappuccino. "The guys are gone for the night, CG. I'm having serious withdrawals, and I'm not feeling good about it."

"Bummer," she said. "And it's only been a week."

"Thanks for the confidence booster," I said bluntly. "I don't know what to do. I feel like a dead fish that got hooked. I hate this. I never want to do this again. Ever! What kind of sick animal agrees to this kind of bet?"

"Well, you did," she reminded me. "But you're doing it for your friend, remember? So it's like a charity. You should feel proud."

"Yeah," I said bitterly, taking the cappuccino. "Do I have to pay for this?"

"Nah. Consider it a favor. Where'd your friends go?"

"Johnny's cousin flew in from Albuquerque earlier this evening, so they went to meet up with him."

"Yeah? Why didn't you go with them?"

"They were going bar-hopping afterward. One, I have a welt on my leg the size of a baseball and two, I don't want to get drunk and do something I'll seriously regret."

"I thought guys didn't regret anything."

"We usually don't," I shrugged. "But if I screw anyone before August, I screw myself out of money and pride. That's not on the agenda. So far, so good. The week's dragged, but I made it."

"Yay," she said, doing a small cheer. "On the path to righteousness. Congratulations."

"Thanks," I sighed, leaning back in the booth and looking out the window. "I talked to Johnny about you today."

"Yeah? Hopefully you told him all the good points you know about me. Maybe even made up a few."

"He said you were pretty and you seemed nice. He also said if I stopped antagonizing him about asking you out, he might actually do it."