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55 - Pizza (no, that's not an innuendo)

55 – Pizza (no, that’s not an innuendo)

Luke Waters

 Not many guys (from the ones I know, at least) can say that they hit fourth base on the third date. I know saying it like that makes it sound crude. But saying it any other way makes me feel so overwhelmed I get dizzy when I think about it, not dizzy in a vertiginous way, but dizzy in the way that you get when you stand on the shore and stare at the horizon.

 It was that time of day – around seven pm – when it’s not day anymore but it’s not properly night either and you haven’t even had dinner yet but you know you’re going to eat soon so there’s no point in starting anything productive, so you just sort of sit around and watch TV till dinnertime, after which the real fun starts. That night sure was fun. We even forgot to get proper dinner, I think.

 Maya and I were back at Naomi and Joseph’s – or mine, as I had started calling it – after an afternoon of traipsing around pointlessly in the city. We spent a considerable amount of time in the Starbucks downtown, with Xavier, who now had his eyes on someone he’d met at a gay pride parade. He was thorough in his research and even had his Facebook page bookmarked on his phone. We went to the gallery again, just for nostalgia’s sake; it now housed some aspiring war journalist’s gritty photos of the Boston Marathon attack. Maya leaned on my arm comfortably and licked melted popsicle off the corner of my mouth. We’d even tried out beds in Ikea.

 “I like this one,” she’d said, flopping down on a twin bed, of all things. “It’s got a good bounce.”

 She jiggled her butt up and down.

 “Can’t be too soft,” I said, squashing up next to her. “Jesus, this is small.”

 “Hmm? All the more room to have fun in.” She rolled on top of me then but I was forced to push her off because I could see the store manager and plus, public bodily betrayals were embarrassing.

 Anyway, we were back home well before dinnertime.

 “Never again,” Maya declared in the hall, grabbing my sleeve and using me as a support pillar as she pulled off her shoes. “I’m going to bed like, now.”

 “You’re getting an American accent,” I informed her. She still hadn’t abandoned her Indian habit of taking off shoes whenever she entered a home.

 She clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide and horrified.

 “No! What did I say?”

 I chuckled. “Like, now.”

 She groaned.

 “Side-effects of spending too much time with you.”

 “It’s okay, we don’t have to talk for the rest of the evening.”

 She nodded firmly, starting into the living room. “Let’s watch a movie. Where’s everyone else?”

 I glanced at my watch. “Uh…they’re going to be home at like eleven.”

 Maya raised her eyebrow at me. “Home alone eh?”

 I tried to give her what I hoped was an attractive smirk.

 “I suppose so.”

  And of course, it was no surprise that despite deciding to innocently watch a movie in the end, we ended up doing everything but that.

 She seemed fairly engrossed in the first fifteen minutes, but didn’t even protest when I started kissing her, unable to really do anything else.