“So…I guess I’ll leave now.” She brushes past us brusquely, and makes a beeline for the main house to collect her things.
“Let me know you got in safely,” I call out after her.
“Yeah, yeah,” she waves without looking back. I know I should go after her and at least attempt to smooth things over, before her wild imagination begins to cook up all kinds of rumor-inducing theories, but what would I say? And how could I even force myself to walk away, now that I hold this precious angel in the palm of my hand?
Erin will have to wait. Logic, morals, obligations will all have to wait.
“Come in,” I murmur, holding my breath, as Ally crosses the threshold. She follows me to the kitchen, where I retrieve our half-eaten carton of ice cream and two spoons.
“I can’t stay. It’s just…I, uh…ran into a problem with your homework assignment.”
I bite my bottom lip hard to keep from chuckling. “Oh? Need a hand?” I turn just in time to see Ally’s icy-cold glare. She shakes her head.
“See…this was a mistake.”
“No, no, I’m sorry. Tell me about it. I sincerely want to help.” I open the carton of Mint Chocolate Chip and scoop up a serving, handing it to her. Ally pauses, contemplating her next move, before eventually exhaling her frustration and accepting the cold, creamy peace offering.
“It’s nothing…I don’t think.” She eases the spoon into her mouth and hums her approval, letting her eyelids close in ecstasy. She slides onto a barstool before sinking her spoon back in for another bite. “It’s just… Ok, don’t laugh. Promise?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” I respond around a mouthful of sweet, frozen deliciousness.
“Ok, here goes… How do you know if you had an orgasm?” she almost whispers.
I frown. “What do you mean, how do you know?”
“I mean, how can you tell? Like, I’m not sure if or how I’ve…you know. And I’ve never…by myself… Oh God, this is too embarrassing!” She shoves the spoon into the carton and covers her face with both hands.
“Ally…” I stow my own spoon and place a comforting hand on her shoulder. Just an innocent shoulder. Nothing to see here, folks.
“I’m mortified! This was such a mistake!”
“It’s not. That’s what I’m here for. You can ask me anything, you hear me? Anything.”
Slowly, she removes her hands from her face yet keeps her eyes trained on the countertop. “I swear, I’m not this clueless. It’s just…there’s only been Evan and we’ve never talked about whether or not I’ve…you know. So I’m not sure if it’s happened or what kind.”
I nod, understanding what she’s saying and surrendering the instinct to wrap her up in my arms and kiss her senseless. Her naiveté is incredibly inspiring. Oh, the things I could do…
“Well, Ally. If you have to wonder if you’ve ever had an orgasm, then chances are, you haven’t.”
Her eyes double in size. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Are they that good? Like, will I be able to distinguish it from just regular sex?”
I grin, hoping that it comes off as more reassuring than mocking. “Think of the act of sex as a slow burn. There are highs and lows, of course. Some areas burn hotter than others. But for the most part, it just kindles until it’s eventually extinguished.
“Now, achieving orgasm…imagine that burn building into a flame. And that flame growing into a wildfire. And that wildfire combusting into a fireworks display on the 4th of July. Dozens of magnificent colors bursting, popping, sizzling. Lighting up the night sky with blinding brilliance. You can tell the difference between that slow, steady burn and fireworks, right?”
Ally picks up her spoon and digs around in the ice cream carton, avoiding eye contact. “Yes, of course.”
“Then you know whether or not you’ve achieved orgasm.” I pick up my spoon from the pint and lick the ice cream remnants before pointing it towards her. “So tell me, Ally…Did Evan ever make you feel fireworks?”
She’s quiet for a few beats, so I know I’ve crossed the line. But instead of slapping me across the face soap-opera style or high tailing it out of my house, she laughs. She laughs that carefree belly laugh that illuminates the darkness of my lonely heart. The kind that is usually accompanied by a snort and/or tears at the tiny crinkles around her eyes. The kind of laugh that makes me laugh too, for no damn reason at all.
“No,” she shakes her head, still laughing. “No, Evan never made me feel fireworks. Oh my God, how pathetic am I? Twenty-seven years old and I’ve never had an orgasm!” Hilarity overcomes her once more, and she slaps the kitchen top.
“Ally…” I say, catching my breath. “Ally, that doesn’t make you pathetic at all. That makes him pathetic. He has perfection at his fingertips, yet he can’t get you off? You were pure and untouched when you met him. Untainted. You gave him a beautiful gift. The least he could’ve done was make you come properly.”
That gets her attention, and all signs of humor are erased from her expression. “I guess you’re right. But it was just never a priority to Evan.” Her face falls, sadness creeping onto her delicate, porcelain features. “ Iwas never a priority.”
I want to touch her so badly. I want to pull her chin up so she can see me…so she can feel the conviction in my next words. “Then why on Earth would you want to be with someone who only makes you an option? When you clearly have made hima priority?”
Her eyes meet mine, unmasked pain and confusion so evident in those cyan orbs. “Justice…don’t-”
“I mean, why would you put up with that when you know you deserve so much better?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know. I mean, do I really deserve better? Isthere better than this? We grow up seeing the leaders of our nation being cheaters and liars. We hear about deception destroying marriages every day. What’s the alternative? Loneliness?”
No. Me.I’m the alternative.
But that would be a lie, wouldn’t it? That would make me just as bad as Evan and every other piece of shit that’s ever hurt a woman.
“Happiness,” I say instead. “Friendship. Freedom.”
“Ha, freedom,” she half-snorts. “Is there such a thing for us? When our lives are exploited for must-see-TV?”
“Mine isn’t,” I state matter-of-factly.
“Yeah, that’s because you didn’t grow up as an Upper East Side sock puppet. You got to have a real childhood, with parents who didn’t leave you to be raised by nannies and friends that actually liked you for you, and not for who you could introduce them to.”
“Don’t be so sure,” I murmur, rolling my eyes.
“Oh yeah? Then how did you escape the madness? How did you avoid the paparazzi and fakeness and disillusions of grandeur?”
“Circumstance.”
We both shrug and go back to raking our spoons over ribbons of mint and chocolate. I don’t want to explain, and she doesn’t want to hear an explanation. We’re both comfortable in this illusion of safety and normalcy where spying cameras and incriminating tabloids don’t exist.
“Ok, if you were on a first date with a woman, would you be more impressed if she ordered a salad or a big, juicy burger?”
I raise an amused brow at her unpredictability. “Huh?”
“Salad or burger? Which girl is gonna get the goods?” she says before plopping a dollop of ice cream on her tongue. I watch with rapt fascination as she licks the spoon clean, too absorbed to even attempt to answer her question. Ally catches my gaze and puts the spoon down, a mischievous smile twitching her lips. “Focus, Drake. Answer the question or I’ll be forced to steal your ice cream stash and eat it all, locked up in my room alone.”
I snap out of my trance and give her a half shrug. “What do you expect? I’m only human.”