From 2009 to early 2012, I was seeing my cousin’s best friend, Rich. We had met when I was sixteen (I had a serious crush on him back in the day) and had recently gotten in touch via Facebook in March 2009. The only reason I remember this is because Rich was the last person I spoke to before I got absolutely blasted on St. Patrick’s Day, 2009. Two weeks later, we were supposed to meet up for a drink…but we wound up making out during the second half of Old School in his bedroom instead.
We decided not to tell Chris about our arrangement because, at first, it was strictly casual. We would meet up once a week, get stoned, eat pizza, have sex and watch TV. I had just finished another grueling pseudo-relationship with Jesse and really wasn’t looking for something serious and Rich…well, relationships just weren’t his thing. We had a lot of fun and a lot of laughs.
However, a year later…we were dating. Pretty soon we were having conversations instead of ripping each other’s clothes off, going to dinner instead of getting stoned and talking about their future instead of focusing on the present. It seemed that our arrangement was steadily becoming something more. But there was one little problem – at this point, we hadn’t really talked about what was going on.
Despite the fact that our relationship was changing, I wasn’t going to ruin it by talking about it. Until, well, I did. Following that conversation, though, we agreed to keep our relationship a secret until we figured out what was going on between us.
Rich and I began to spend more time together – so much so that he began to neglect his friends…and so much so that they would show up, rather unexpectedly.
Rich’s bed lives against two windows which look out onto the street – it stays there because Rich likes the feel of a summer and fall breeze instead of an air conditioner.
One summer day, we were, well…you know. The windows were shut, you pervs, but it was still light out. Rich gets pretty intense when he’s in the throws of passion (like most of us) and was just about to hit the jackpot when he heard his name being called.
“In a minute!” he screamed.
“God I hope not…” I whispered as he continued.
“Rich!” the voice called.
“I think I know that voice…” I said, knowing full well it was more than a thought – it was a certainty. “Rich, it’s Chris!” I gasped, turning to see if the door was locked.
“Oh shit!” Rich cried.
My hands slipped off the window sill as Rich pushed forward and forced me straight through the window screen, landing on my tummy, boobs jiggling in the summer air. Rich grabbed tight hold of my ass as I composed myself just in time to say hello to Rich’s next door neighbor walking her dog.
It was thoroughly…well, it was pretty fucking embarrassing.
Epilogue: I hid in Rich’s closet – Chris didn’t find out about us for a whole year afterwards.