The Truth About Sex & Surfing [Featured Story]

Chapter six -- Fiona's P.O.V.

The bed shook, and Fiona woke up with her hands clutching the soft, balled-up cotton of Ben’s t-shirt.

She realized what she was doing—how it must look, like a baby cuddling its favorite blanket—and hastily pushed the t-shirt away. She sat up, running her fingers through her hair to smooth it.

The sound of an ambulance siren came from a street or two away. With the curtains drawn, the room was shadowy. Ben was pulling on his pants, and stuffing his keys and his wallet in his pockets, quick as he could. “Have you seen my—”

“It’s here,” Fiona said, tossing the shirt to him. Then she wondered, half groggy, half alert, why she’d been so helpful. Last night might have been the first night he’d actually fallen asleep in her bed, but still, she knew his schedule. He didn’t have class today, and he hadn’t mentioned any early-morning dentist appointments or anything. “Where are you going?”

“Well.” He leaned on the edge of her desk as he pulled on his shoes. He seemed to be hoping she’d just roll over, go back to sleep. “Well, I have to go. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Her phone was on the nightstand, and she reached for it. Only eight o’clock. Way too early for any sort of normal errand. Do not do this to me, Fiona told Ben, but only in her mind. It was definitely happening—here he was sneaking off again right after they hooked up, like nothing had changed. “It’s something with Hailey, isn’t it? Just tell me.”

“It’s nothing, okay? I just—”

“Whatever it is, it’s not nothing. So you’d better tell me.”

“Oh Jesus.” He huffed out a sigh, then sat down on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his kneees and looked at Fiona like she was the one being difficult. “Here’s the thing. I saw something weird on Facebook, and I need to go check it out. Okay? No big deal.”

Yep, he was totally running to Hailey, Fiona thought. And the thought of losing to Hailey again was the worst. She couldn’t take it—even the suggestion made her stomach lurch. “If you leave now,” she said, “don’t come back.”

“What, to your room? You going somewhere?”

“No, I mean if you do this again, it’s over. I won’t take it, Ben. You can bloody well find a new place and a new roommate and a new girlfriend.” She was almost sure she meant it.

He took her hand and squeezed it. “Don’t say that. You know you’re the one I want. I chose you, remember?”

That was enough to make Fiona smile in spite of herself. She hadn’t moved, yet the pillows stacked behind her seemed to soften, and the covers were warmer where they stretched over her body. Because she really had won, hadn’t she? Hailey had been dumped in the most casual and hurtful way possible, and she and Ben were together now. Going to bed together and waking up together. The sense of triumph was better than an orgasm. Everything had been worth it, Fiona decided—the makeover, the stupid clothes she’d had to wear and the extra classes she’d had to take. Not to mention all the waiting.

She leaned over and kissed Ben, just because she could. “Say it again,” she told him.

“I chose you. I. Chose. You.”

“So it’s settled.” She smiled at him. “Now show me this thing on Facebook.”

For a fraction of a second, he hesitated, then he pulled his phone from his pocket and flipped to the post. “It’s this.”

Fiona found herself staring at Hailey’s Facebook page. A girl named Liz had tagged Hailey with an article from some news site called The Gold Coast Leader with a .AU web address. Instinctively, Fiona clicked to the article. What the hell? A huge photo of Hailey—it was Hailey Crawford, there was no doubt—accompanied the story, and the whole thing was about some kind of prostitution scandal.