I counted to ten, deciding that was long enough to make it seem like I was just waking up. Then, faking a yawn, I shuffled to the kitchen.
Marc was already there, wearing a pair of jeans and nothing else. As if I needed a reminder of what I was missing out on. Unf. Did I say Greek god? More like Norse. All he needed was a hammer to be Thor. Then again, he was basically packing that sort of heat in his jeans, so.
I was so busy ogling, it took me a second to notice his horrified expression.
“What’s wrong?” I whispered as Ava brewed more coffee. “She doesn’t know anything.” She totally knew everything, but he didn’t know so I figured it was a good deed to keep up the pretense.
“I can’t find the condom,” he whispered back.
“What was that?” Ava asked turning back from the coffee pot.
Marc’s face went ashen.
Having already learned he wasn’t great at improvisation, I covered for him. “He said your cinnamon rolls are awesome. Which they are.” Awesome sounded sort of like condom. Didn’t it?
“Oh my god,” she said, laughing. “For some reason I thought you said condom.”
“Ha,” Marc choked through gritted teeth. “That would be…weird.” No poker face on that guy.
“Condom,” I said too cheerily. “How funny is that? You should get your hearing checked.”
I turned to grab creamer from the fridge for Ava, shooting Marc a panicked look when she couldn’t see me.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” he mouthed. Oh, that mouth. I was utterly ruined for normal conversation with him, now that I knew what his mouth could be doing instead of talking.
Despite Marc’s assurance, he remained visibly tense while we stood in the kitchen listening to Ava’s recount her latest bad date. In detail.
Twenty minutes later, her coffee was finished, even if her story wasn’t. Still talking, she crossed to put her dirty mug in the sink, then, as she turned back toward us, she stopped abruptly mid-sentence.
“He told you he’d let you get dessert if you…what?” I prompted, not really as interested as I sounded. After all, she’d just ruined my dessert.
“If I. If.” She blinked then shook her head, as if trying to dismiss a thought. “If I paid for it myself,” she said in a rush. “I’m sorry. I just remembered somewhere I’m supposed to be. I’ll call you, Mad-Dog.”
She gave Marc a half-hug and pecked me on the cheek and then bustled out as quickly as she’d arrived.
“That was odd,” he said, staring after her.
That was when I spotted it. Plain as day, lying on the kitchen floor, undoubtedly seen by Ava. Entirely possible it was the reason for her sudden departure. And extremely plausible it would completely unhinge my roommate, who it seemed was not to become my screwmate today, either.
At least I had more material for the sitcomic. I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“Hey, um… Marc?” I said, pointing to the ground. “I found the condom.”
Eight
“There was a condom. On the kitchen floor,” Ava sang when I answered the phone in lieu of a greeting.
I dropped my pen on the drafting table and sat back on my stool. “I’m surprised it took you this long to call about that.” It had been almost a week since the kitchen condom episode, and I hadn’t heard a word from Ava. “I was beginning to think you didn’t see it.”
“Oh, I saw it. It’s taken me this long to recover.”
“I thought you wanted me to bang your cousin! I can’t keep up.”
“I do want you to bang him. I don’t want to see your used condoms. It said Extra Large. Right there on your kitchen floor.”
“It hadn’t been used.” Much. Unfortunately. “And I can’t help it that your cousin has a—is a big man on campus.” A campus I hadn’t seen since that day, sadly.
“Not making it better, Madison! It was unwrapped! And in your kitchen. I’m guessing that means the two of you have a kinky thing going, but remind me to come and thoroughly bleach all exposed surfaces before eating anything at your house. Ever again.”
“What? No, no. You have this all wrong,” I said, more than a little annoyed. “My kitchen is clean. There was no banging in the kitchen. There was no banging at all. But you are welcome to come and bleach any time your heart desires.”
“If there was no banging, then why was there a condom?”
“Because we were about to bang when someone showed up with cinnamon rolls. We hurried to get dressed and, best that I can guess, the condom got stuck to my nightshirt. And then fell on the kitchen floor to await your disapproving glance.”
“Oh.” She was quiet for a beat, and I could practically hear the look on her face changing from relief to puzzlement rapidly. “But you’ve banged since?”
With a sigh, I threw my head back and stared at the ceiling. “No. We haven’t.”
“But— Why the fuck not?”
“It’s complicated.” I realized as soon as the answer was out of my mouth that it wasn’t going to be enough for Ava. No gossip left behind was her motto, and when it was about someone besides myself, I appreciated it. Sadly, it was my sad sexless life that would be served up as fresh tea to the other girls as soon as we hung up.
“Between the extra work I had at the print shop after the pipe damage and working up merchandise for my ComicCon booth, I barely saw Marc last week. Then he had to go home early for some big farmer’s market thing. I was at the shop when he got back last night; he was asleep when I got home. Blah, blah, blah. We’re back to the old Invisible Roommate days.” I sighed heavily. Marc was, of course, far too polite to show up in my room in the middle of the night. And I was too nervous to do it to him. It was good while it lasted, though.
“You know what your problem is, Madison? You don’t put your own happiness as a priority. You should do that now and then.”
“I’ll try to remember that.” For example, my happiness currently demanded some mac and cheese. And that was a thing I was unlikely to be let down by.
“What about today? You still have six hours until you have to be at work.” She had me there, though. Could I? Could I demand some satisfaction? Maybe not, but I knew I needed to give it a shot.
“Well, Marc was gone when I woke up, but I think I just heard him come in.” That was true. Surely he was feeling just as frustrated as me.
“Party time! Go get some, girl. Then tell me all about it. But not the parts that I don’t want to hear. Just the other parts.”
“Will do.” I didn’t bother to ask how I was supposed to guess which parts she wanted to hear and which she didn’t because, frankly, it wasn’t any of her business. I was tempted to tell her that, actually, but it went against the unwritten understanding that best friends have rights to full disclosure, even if that friend was the town crier, and anyways I wasn’t in the mood to debate my privacy boundaries.
Besides, I really would tell her everything. Except about his cucumber. There just wasn’t anything to tell, and that fact had admittedly made me a bit cranky.
“Now let me go so I can get something done.”
“You mean get someone done.” She giggled at her own joke.
“Shut up, or I’ll send pics. Goodbye, Ava.”