ME: Oh ya! It was INTENSE! I can’t believe that player scored nineteen points!!!

HIM: You didn’t watch it, did you?

ME: No. Sorry. Told you, I don’t care for hockey.

HIM: I expected more from my therapist. Goodbye.

There’s a long pause.

HUNTER: Fuck, wait, I texted for a reason. We still holding our session at the gym today?

ME: Yep. After I’m done with dinner. So around 8? Oh, and make sure you’re wearing tight spandex pants so I can objectify you.

HIM: Obvs.

I grin at the screen.

“The hockey player again?” Corinne asks.

“Yeah.” Chuckling, I shake my head indulgently. “He’s so full of himself. But really hot. I’d set you up with him, but he doesn’t have sex.”

“Wait, what?”

“He’s practicing abstinence for a while.” I hope it’s not a secret, but just in case, I don’t offer any further details. “Hey, what’s your Wi-Fi network? I’m trying to join it.”

“Oh, I haven’t set up the Wi-Fi yet. They’re coming on Friday to do it.”

I’m about to put my phone away when another message comes in.

TJ: Are we still on for dinner?

ME: Oh yeah. Sushi baby!!!!

I punctuate that with three fish emojis. TJ counters with a couple of shrimp, and then we’re sending each other random sea-life emojis that make me giggle.

ME: Did you realize there’s no lobster emoji?? WTH!

TJ doesn’t respond, so I set the phone down and begin folding the pile of T-shirts on Corinne’s mattress. “I feel like these should all go in your dresser,” I suggest. “Hanging T-shirts is a waste of hangers.”

“Agreed. Let’s hang the stuff that might wrinkle, and then dresses, skirts—”

My phone buzzes again. TJ just sent a picture of a cartoon lobster with hearts in his eyes, and a speech bubble above his head that reads: “I WANT TO GET MY CLAWS INTO YOU!”

I burst out laughing. “Sorry,” I tell Corinne. “TJ is sending memes.”

“You have like a gazillion male friends. Meanwhile, I can’t even deal with one.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know how you do it. All those fragile egos… They’re all just little boys in need of attention.” She gasps in delight. “You know who you are? You’re Wendy with all the Lost Boys!”

“Sounds about right,” I say dryly. “But I love my Lost Boys. They’re a constant source of entertainment.” I fold another T-shirt. “TJ and I are grabbing dinner in town tonight. We’re trying out the new Japanese place that opened across from the theater. Wanna come?”

“I can’t. I’m hosting a study group here later. It’s just you and TJ? No Nico?”

“Nico is playing basketball with Darius and then meeting up with some guys from work for drinks. You probably met them when they helped you move.”

“I met two.” She thinks it over. “One was really cute, and one was really bald.”

I snicker. “The bald one is Steve, and I think the cute one…it was probably Roddy? Short for Rodrigo. But I think he has a girlfriend.”

“Bummer.”

“Yeah right. You don’t even want a boyfriend.”

“True.”

I carry the stack of neatly folded shirts to Corinne’s secondhand wooden dresser. “Come on, let’s put all this random stuff away and then dive back into the closet. The closet is the fun part.”

“The things that bring you joy…” She sighs. “You’re so fucking weird, Demi.”

I spend a couple more hours with Corinne, then walk the short distance into the heart of town. TJ meets me at the sushi place, which ends up being phenomenal, so naturally I text my boyfriend all about it on the Uber ride back to campus, because good food gets me excited and when I’m excited I must share it with Nico.

NICO: I think u devalue the currency of the orgasm whenever u call a meal “orgasmic.”

ME: Well, I think you underappreciate good food. And that’s practically a crime b/c you’re Cuban and food is in your blood.

HIM: Nah.

ME: I’m telling your mom you said that.

HIM: Don’t u dare.

ME: I’m hitting the gym soon. Be home around 9. Wanna come by after you’re done with the boys?

HIM: Prolly not, bb. Think we’re gonna go back to Steve’s and have a Fortnite marathon.

I’m only a smidge disappointed. We didn’t have plans, so I can’t fault him for wanting to continue hanging out with his friends, the people he originally had plans with.

ME: OK. Have fun! Love you.

NICO: Love u too bb <3 <3 <3 <3

“I miss blowjobs,” Hunter declares at the gym an hour later.

The forlorn assertion triggers a burst of laughter from me, which nearly results in me tripping on the treadmill. It’s been a week since we’ve seen each other, and obviously his monk status is still solidly intact.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I tell him.

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to my dick.”

Snorting, I dip my gaze south. Not gonna lie—his package is kind of impressive beneath his black track pants. I make a magnanimous gesture at his crotch. “I’m sincerely sorry for your recent troubles, Hunter’s dick.”

Hunter’s dick’s owner nods soberly. “He appreciates the sentiment.”

This fucking guy. He is either the best or the worst. I still haven’t decided.

With that said, he’s definitely the worst gym buddy. For the past forty minutes, we’ve been side-by-side on our respective treadmills without altering the brisk pace. But now I’m waning. It’s an admission of defeat when I flick my finger on the incline button to make the workout a bit easier.

Mr. Hockey Star has barely broken a sweat. A slight sheen coats his forehead and that’s about it. Meanwhile, I’m a sweaty mess. Thank God I’m not romantically interested in him, otherwise I’d be incredibly self-conscious and embarrassed about perspiring this much. Even Nico hasn’t seen me at my sweatiest.

“Aww, does someone need a break?” Hunter mocks.

“Nope, just a flatter path.”

“Wimp.”

“Monk.”

“You gotta stop using that as an insult. Some people consider my celibacy admirable.”

“Says the guy who’s moaning about missing blowjobs.”

“Oh, like you wouldn’t miss it if the boyfriend stopped going down on you.”

“Not really,” I say before I can stop myself. And I regret it instantly. I’m not a fan of locker room talk, especially involving my boyfriend. So what if Nico isn’t an oral genius? That doesn’t mean he doesn’t possess other exceptional qualities.