Chapter 3

Thursday, October Ninth

Game Two

Melanie, Callie's best friend, came to my room that Thursday afternoon.

"Hey, Mitch, can I talk to you?"

"Sure," I said.

"Listen." She took a deep breath. "You might want to consider getting out of the bet. I really don't think it's a good idea. I've never seen Callie like this. She's having an anxiety attack about the whole thing. I was with her last night after the game and she was almost out of her mind."

"Damn," I said. "Is she that unattracted to me?"

"No, actually, that's not it at all," she said.

"I know it's not sex in general, Callie's no virgin. In fact, I know she was with a number of guys last year, and a couple over the summer. So it's not that."

"No. And I'm not quite sure what it is. I have my ideas, of course-but the thought of having sex with you terrifies her."

"Good God almighty, Melanie, does she think I'm going to hurt her or something?"

"I don't know."

"She should know better than that!"

"I know she should, but, well, it's complicated." She took a deep breath. "Look, like I said, I don't know for sure, but-well, you said it yourself. She had a number of guys last year. Notice how long they lasted? Not long. Notice how much emotional investment she put into them? Just about zero."

"Melanie, you're saying-what, exactly?"

"I'm saying that sex with emotional involvement scares the shit out of Callie. I saw that last night. What I don't know is why."

"Shit. She agreed to the bet, though."

"Well, yeah. I think she thought the Yankees were going to sweep or something. Losing game one put the fear of God into her."

"Shit."

"You need to talk to her, Mitch."

Mel was right. So, after Mel had left, I got myself to Callie's room. She let me in.

"Look. Do you want out of this bet?" I asked.

"No, why would I?" she said defiantly. "You think the Sox shot their wad in game one?" she sniggered.

"No, I asked if you wanted out of it," I said. "I'll let you out. I'll even take the blame, if you want. I'll tell everyone that I chickened out, if you don't want to."

"Why are you doing this?" she asked hesitantly.

"Because I get the feeling that going to bed with me would be more of a torture for you than me giving Tim a blowjob would be for me."

I saw something in her eyes just then, but I wasn't quite sure what it was. It only lasted a couple of seconds. Then she summoned her bravado and said, "Nah. I'm not worried about it. The Yankees are about to win four in a row. The bet is on."