The Temporary Virginity of the American Player

12. I Probably Should Have Just Played X-Box.

I woke up the next morning next to Lena, fully dressed. Thank God. Sorry, but when you wake up to a girl unbeknownst the circumstances in the early morning, you tend to get a little concerned about what you did. Luckily, we’d left it as a sleepover, and the wine hadn’t interfered with my conscience.

I could smell eggs frying in a pan and poked my head out of our fort, looking over in the direction of the apartment kitchen. There was huge-ass Lane, headphones on and flipping an omelet. I wasn’t sure if he knew I was there, and quite frankly I was a little apprehensive about crawling out. Hopefully I didn’t need Lena to save my ass.

I crawled out of the fort, careful not to tip the empty wine glasses or bowl of stale popcorn over. I did my best not to wake Lena, who had fallen asleep next to me. Oh, God. I’d slept next to Johnny’s girl. I didn’t think that was breaking any specific rules…was there a rule against sleeping next to your best friend’s future girl? That would be one random rule to establish.

Heavy metal music blasted from Lane’s headphones; it was a wonder he still had his hearing. I could hear the song all the way from where I stood, which was quite a distance. I had no idea what the hell it was…Joe probably would have known. When Lane looked at me, I though maybe I should be backing into a church or arming myself with holy water. But he simply removed his headphones, turned down the music and nodded to the fort.

“You guys made a fort.”

Yes. Yes, we did.

“Uh, yeah,” I said, trying to keep my voice low for fear of waking Lena. I couldn’t imagine how pissy she’d be if I woke her up, so I slid towards the kitchen. “Yeah, it was a long night.”

“Yeah, Lena told me you got arrested for…for stripping?”

“It’s a long story,” I said, and sat on a barstool. “I didn’t even hear you come in.”

“Well, I saw the fort and I figured it was something I wouldn’t want to interrupt,” he shrugged, turning off the stove and removing the omelet. “Lena and I have a history with forts…it’s kind of a thing. Anyway, I came in around three and turned off the TV; you guys fell asleep with it on.”

“Sorry about that,” I yawned. “I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

“I’m surprised Lena had you sleep over.”

“Yeah, well, she didn’t want me to kill my friends in their sleep…it was probably a wise decision.”

“Did you guys…you know….”

“What? No. Oh, no. No, don’t worry, we didn’t do…that.”

“OK,” he shrugged, and poured himself a glass of orange juice. “Want some of this? We got cereal…eggs, pancakes, waffles…toaster strudel….”

“No thanks,” I said. “I’m good on the toaster studel. Do you know what time it is though?”

“Eleven thirty,” he said. “Why? Need a lift?”

“Um…no rush. Not for a while I mean, I just have some classes later, but I probably should clean myself up.”

“You can shower here if you want,” he offered.

“Really?”

“Yeah. The bathroom’s right down that hall to the right.”

“Sweet; I’m gonna go ahead and do that now. Thanks, man.”

“You’re sure you don’t want any toaster strudel?”

“I’m good,” I said, walking down the hall and curving right like Lane directed. I stripped out of the sweatpants and t-shirt Lena had given me the previous night and took about ten minutes trying to figure out how to turn on the shower. I don’t know about everyone else, but I’m a little slow when it comes to operating other peoples’ shower. That’s foreign territory. Even if a knob blatantly says hot and another cold, I’ll stand there thinking, “What sorcery is this?”