Chapter 8: Jade

Wednesday, December 14, 2022

“It helps if you read them out loud,” Fanny said as she took my phone from me and read the first text Marcy had sent last night. She was standing at the library checkout counter, waiting for the library to close. “Jilting my elf two Bidens f you rig bow. Miss yoy so much. Pleas tLk to meow.”

A surge of guilt hit my stomach at sharing Marcy’s texts with Fanny, but the resentment I nurtured still burned hotter. “She feels like jilted by the president. Says, ‘Fuck you, rig bow!’ And she misses you so much. And she wants you to speak to her cat for her.”

I covered my mouth and nose as my laugh came out like a snort. Fanny had a way of making me nearly lose control of my bladder because she had no filter when it came to saying whatever was on her mind. She was funny, cool, nerdy, and clingy as hell. But I had chosen to take the good with the bad because I enjoyed her company, even when she called me randomly in the middle of the night to tell me stuff on her mind or woke me up at 6 a.m. with coffee because she had exercised or told me how many times she’d masturbated over the weekend to futanari porn.

Fanny laughed, too, and I shushed her with my other hand over her mouth. Velma and Marcos both gave us disapproving looks.

Next week was finals week, and some students got very testy over being interrupted or distracted, especially the medical students. Fanny and I had been studying behind the counter throughout my shift, and both felt pretty good about where we stood going into our exams next week. That didn’t mean I would take my foot off the gas this weekend. I had no doubt all of the other pre-med students trying to get accepted onto the track were feeling “pretty good,” too.

I had been so busy studying and focused on finals that I had nearly forgotten that Marcy’s birthday was yesterday. Only her drunken texts had reminded me. I had been trying to sleep when my phone buzzed. I’d read her texts sleepily, trying to decode the messages. A terrible feeling of melancholy hit me like an ocean tidal wave, and I nearly started crying.

It was Marcy’s nineteenth birthday, and I wasn’t with her. Across town, tucked behind some clothes in the little closet of my studio apartment, was a signed poster of Robert Downey, Jr. as Iron Man. He was Marcy’s favorite actor, and Iron Man was her favorite movie. I’d found a great one for two hundred dollars on eBay three months ago and stashed it away for her birthday. It had cost me another two-fifty to get it framed. And then, in a moment of late-night recklessness, I bought another one of Chris Evans, my favorite actor, as Captain America. And I’d gotten that one framed, too. Fortunately, the framer took pity on me and did the second one for half off. Now I had two posters in my closet, one for my ex-girlfriend. In between the two posters was the first appearance of Miles Morales in a comic book. That one was for Kitt.

“I think she says she’s hitting herself,” I told Fanny. “She J is right next to H on the keyboard. So she said she’s hitting herself. I don’t know what the Bidens thing means. Then maybe she wants to f you right now? Maybe that’s what rig bow is.”

I shrugged. “What about the second text?”

“Cqnt eden cyan snympre qithout you. I wosh yoy were her. I want to kids yo hold yo Tokyo. I ned you. Who can’t hinges go bic to the way they were? I’ll so any thong!!ml!!” Fanny took a lot longer to decipher the second text than the first. “Cunt eater simper without you. I wish you were here. That one was easy. I want two kids. You hold Tokyo. Who can’t hinges go back to the way they were? Oh, wait. Why can’t things go back to the way they were? I’ll say anything.”

“I’ll do anything,” I muttered. “The D is next to the S.”

It dawned on me what the entire second message said. Can’t cum anymore without you. I wish you were here. I want to kiss you hold you take you. I need you. Why can’t things go back to the way they were? I’ll do anything!!!!!

She was reminding me of what I did sometimes when we were fooling around before sex. I used to splay myself on Marcy’s bed and dramatically cry, “Oh, Marcy! Kiss me hold me take me!”

My chest started to hurt, and the urgent need to call her and hear her voice settled into my chest with a heavy weight. Fanny touched my hand and pulled me out of my thoughts.

“You okay?” my friend asked, concern on her face.

I put my head on Fanny’s shoulder, grateful for her friendship. Fanny had heard all about what happened between me and Marcy. She was the only girlfriend I had to talk to at that point. “Yeah. I’m okay. Just ... you know.” I let out a big sigh to make my point.

“My boyfriend in high school cheated on me,” Fanny said. “He was my first sexual partner. Then I found texts on his phone. And nudes another girl from our school sent him. It turned out he was fucking her too. Pieces of shit.”

“I’m sorry, Fanny.” I put my hand on hers, and she looked at it funnily. Then she looked into my eyes.

“I have a crush on you,” Fanny blurted out. Velma instantly looked over at us with a withering glare. Fanny glanced back at me with a reddened face. “Shit. Should I not have said that? I take it back!”

I giggled at her attempt to take back something she just said. “You can’t.”

“I can. I do. I take it back.”

I pulled Fanny into a hug. “I like you too. I don’t know how I like you, but I don’t mind you having a crush on me. It’s flattering that someone like you could have a crush on me. But right now, with Kitt, I can’t do another complicated relationship.”

“I get it.” Fanny seemed relieved that I hadn’t taken her sudden outburst the wrong way. “I don’t want to screw up that for you. But I would totally fuck you if you wanted to, like on the side or whatever. Just so you know. But only if Kitt was okay with it because cheaters suck.”

“What is wrong with you?” Velma cut in. “You can’t just say stuff like that!”

“Ignore her,” I told Fanny in a quiet voice. “You know what, though? Kitt and I used to have threesomes with Marcy, and I bet he’d be interested in doing it with you. I definitely am! I haven’t eaten pussy since, you know. What do you think?”

“I’ve never been in a threesome before,” Fanny admitted. “I know I put on airs of being all sexually experienced and stuff, but I’m not. That’s part of the reason why I offered to do it as the reward for our group.”

“Kitt would probably be pretty cool with it. If you’re not cool, that’s fine. I just thought it’d be fun.”

“Are you sure you guys are in a place where you want to have sex with other people?”

“I want to explore! And what guy would turn down a threesome?”

Fanny thought about it for a moment. “Why don’t we start with me coming over to his place for a study session and see where things go? I’ll bring some wine. I’ve fantasized about a threesome but don’t want to commit to anything. Maybe don’t say anything to Kitt; if I’m feeling it, then I’m feeling it. If I’m not, he won’t know what he missed out on.” Fanny gave me a gentle touch on the arm. “Sound good?”

I returned Fanny’s arm touch with one of my own on her shoulder to show I had noticed it. “That’s a great idea.”

A twinkle appeared in Fanny’s eye. “How soon can we do this?”

“I’ll talk to Kitt and tell him you want to join us for a tutoring session. Why not this weekend? Saturday after study group?”

“Okay.” Fanny glanced at her watch and stood up with her bag. “Well, I should get going because I’m still feeling awkward about what I just said. And I will be masturbating furiously tonight thinking about a threesome.”

I stifled another laugh as I walked my friend around the checkout counter to the library doors, where I gave Fanny a big hug and a small peck on the cheek. “Don’t feel bad. I’ll see you tomorrow in class. Nothing changes.”

“Thank you,” Fanny said cheerily. She turned to go, but on an impulse, I reached out my hand, caught her by the arm, and pulled her back. Fanny’s lips were pressing into mine before she knew what was happening. Fanny’s kiss was soft, warm, and hungry. When Fanny took a step back, her smile was all teeth. I smiled back.

“Wow,” Fanny said, a little breathless. “Maybe I’ll just be thinking about you tonight.”

“Sorry, I had to check on something,” was all the explanation I offered. “We’re all good. See you later!”

Fanny grinned from ear to ear as she left the library. When I turned around, Velma was watching me, her arms folded across her chest. There was no smile there, only disappointment and judgment. “You realize you’re going to hell, right?” she said in her southern drawling accent. I rolled my eyes and walked back around the counter. Velma followed me. Marcos saw us but said nothing. “Fornicating is a serious sin.” Her voice dropped. “Homosexuality is even worse. That’s like double jeopardy.”

I bit my lip to stop myself from responding to her nonsense. “Okay. Thanks for your concern.”

Velma’s face changed from one of scorn to deep worry. “I bet deep, deep down, you’re an amazing person. And if you just let God into your heart, you’ll understand where I’m coming from. Once you have God, everything about you changes, and you see the world differently. Sex doesn’t become something you put down in your schedule. Like, oh, tonight I need to fornicate with some random guy or girl from the internet. It’s about love and marriage and commitment.”

“I don’t think I want to see the world your way,” I told her.

Velma transformed again, now from a pious woman to somebody mortally offended. “Then I guess you will burn in hell with all the other sinners.”

“Guess so,” I answered as I walked away.

Thursday and Friday flew by. Classes mainly were spent reviewing for finals. Kitt didn’t get home until after 1 a.m. all week, and then he started the 7 p.m. to 7 a.m. shift on Sunday, so I barely saw him. Because of that, I decided to start sleeping at my place again. To help me get over Marcy, my mom tried to get me to move back home until the end of the Christmas break, but the drive to campus was twice as long. And if I went back home for any reason other than vacation, leaving again would be even more difficult than it had been the first time for both me and my parents. I did promise to stay with them once finals were over.

Opal, my sister immediately younger than me, texted every day, counting down until I would be coming home for Christmas with a bajillion emojis. Staying focused was getting more difficult every day.

Our study group met Saturday morning at the library as several of us worked evenings. Danny and Drew bought coffee for everybody, earning them multiple brownie points from the ladies. Before our sessions started, we usually took a few minutes to catch up on schedules, discuss the latest episodes of our favorite TV series, and review what exam topics we wanted to cover. Since I had organized the group, I was considered the de facto leader. All this meant was I decided when our next meeting would be based on everybody’s schedules, assigned who would bring treats, and handled any other issues that cropped up.

“I have an issue,” Gretchen, the little blonde cheerleader of the group, said as we finished gossiping about our TV shows. “I need to get fucked, and I don’t have time to find a boyfriend or date or have any sort of relationship. With cheerleading, volunteering, studying, a part-time job, and classes going on, I can’t commit to a relationship, so...” She looked at me with her big brown eyes, and I saw real desperation there.

The guys in the group all looked at each other, nobody wanting to be the first to say anything lest they come across as absolute tools, but I had no doubt all of them would be willing to help Gretchen in her time of need.

“I mean, I love sex!” Gretchen said. “It helps me relax and focus. And masturbating just isn’t getting the job done. And I don’t have any diseases. And I am not an emotional freak. I just like sex. And I hate all the crap I have to go through on dating apps to find a non-loser for a hookup.”

“I can relate,” Hannah said. “Balancing everything is hard, and it is nice to have that itch scratched without all the drama.”

Sarah and Fanny nodded.

“But we agreed that fraternization among the group could cause problems,” I pointed out. “And what’s the point in Fanny’s offer for a threesome with the top students if all of you are boning each other?”

Travis slowly raised his hand, fighting hard not to burst out laughing. When he spoke, he chose his words very carefully. “I think I speak for all of the fine gentlemen in this room when I say that any of us would be willing to serve the needs of the women in our group.”

When he finished, the room erupted in laughter. Velma popped her head into the room to tell us we had to keep our voices down, giving me an extra nasty glare before leaving. Then we all roared again when she closed the door. Seeing Velma reminded me of her notion of scheduling random sex hookups. I had thought the idea was ridiculous, but it could actually work for my friends.

“I have an idea, Gretchen,” I announced. “What if starting next semester, on Sundays, everybody sends me a list of what days they want some companionship, and I can use that to create a schedule? For example, Gretchen, if you need somebody Monday night at your place, and Travis is available Monday night to come over, I can create a hookup for the two of you. And anybody can tell me privately if there’s anybody else you would rather not see or what gender you’re looking for if you happen to swing both ways. Now, I have to keep things simple because I don’t want this to turn into a full-time job, and you all will be responsible for keeping it no-strings-attached. But I can help by not allowing two consecutive hookups with the same person. How does that sound?”

Everybody liked my idea—everybody but me. I was a little bummed I wouldn’t be able to participate in the hooking-up part with the guys and girls of the group, but that was the sacrifice I made to be with Kitt.

I liked Kitt, but what did it mean if I wanted to have sex with other people? It bothered me. The spark I’d shared with Marcy wasn’t quite the same with him. But even when I’d dated Marcy, I’d wanted to try sex with men. Were all of my relationships doomed to fail? Was I derailing them with selfishness? Even now, I planned on bringing Fanny home to my study session with Kitt, and we were strongly thinking about seducing him together. Did I always have to introduce new variables into my equations to keep them interesting? The idea didn’t worry me enough to change my plans for later tonight with Fanny.

But did Kitt and I even have much of a spark besides sex?

Studying was how Kitt and I had met. He had posted a tutoring ad outside my chemistry classroom to earn extra money after finishing nursing school. My parents had kindly offered to help me pay for a tutor since I had taken approximately zero chemistry classes in high school. Kitt and I hit it off very well from the first session. We had fun and were a little flirty, but nothing ever happened between us. I’d made it clear I had a girlfriend, but I could still tell Kitt thought I was attractive. And for some reason I couldn’t pinpoint, I was intrigued by that.

I was aware that guys found me cute, but everybody in high school understood I belonged to Marcy, and she belonged to me, so there wasn’t an issue. But now, in college, things were fresh and new. Kitt wasn’t some high school boy checking me out. He was a man who found me alluring.

I told Marcy I thought Kitt had a crush on me. She wasn’t threatened at first, although I had told her some months before meeting Kitt about how I wanted to have experiences with a man to see what it felt like and what I truly needed emotionally and physically in a relationship. Marcy reminded me of that conversation and asked if I was considering those things with Kitt. I responded that I didn’t know.

Then, a few days later, Marcy asked if she could be in the room when Kitt tutored me. She claimed she wanted to understand the vibe between me and him. I asked Kitt if he was comfortable with that, and he said it would be fine, but I could tell his consent was somewhat reluctant.

Genuine awkwardness is when you and your tutor have another person in the room pretending to be on her phone while constantly getting up to get water, food, and “looking for stuff” so she can keep an eye on you. Our tutoring sessions quickly went from fun and flirty to stiff and formal. After three more sessions with Marcy in attendance, she and I had a serious talk.

“You like him,” Marcy said one night in my apartment after a long lovemaking session. “Or at least you’re attracted to him. I can tell by your body language.”

I turned over and rested my naked body on hers. “But I love you.”

“Do you still need to explore things with men?” Marcy asked me.

I hesitated, worried the truth might hurt her but also terrified that hiding the truth might lead to worse outcomes. So I finally nodded. Marcy picked up her phone and called Kitt. When he picked up, she bit her lip and then spoke. “Hi, Kitt. It’s Marcy.”

I was close enough to hear him say, “Hello, how are you?” through the earpiece.

“Fine.” The tone in her voice probably told Kitt the opposite. Because she definitely didn’t sound fine to me.

“What are you doing?” I whispered to her. “Let’s talk about this first!”

“Um...” Marcy cleared her throat. “Jade and I have been talking about our relationship, and she—we—think it might be important for her to open herself to other avenues of attraction. She has been wanting to explore other dynamics, and I have given my consent for her to do so while remaining in a relationship with me.”

I did not know what to say. And apparently, Kitt didn’t either because no response came through the line for almost ten seconds.

“Hello?” Marcy asked. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah, I am,” came Kitt’s muffled response.

Marcy took a deep breath. “Jade wants to go on a date with you. And I’m giving her my blessing.”

“How would that work?” Kitt asked.

Marcy sighed. “I have no idea. But it’s important to me to let this happen because I don’t want to lose the love of my life over it.”

Those words hit me hard, and I wanted to wrap Marcy up in my arms and make love to her again. Tears leaked from my eyes because she loved me enough to give me this space to explore myself.

“I don’t want to get involved with somebody,” Kitt answered, “if it means hurting someone else.”

“Do you like her?”

“Well ... I mean, she’s—”

“You flirted with her before I started attending your tutor sessions.”

“Um.” Kit continued to fumble with words. I could practically see his face in my mind twisting in confusion. “Flirting is—I don’t know if that’s the right word.”