She sniffled. "Gah, dammit, Rune, I just put on mascara, so don't make me cry." Another sniff. "I love you too, Rune. I'm sorry I lied. I just…I didn't know how to explain the whole thing. I mean, it sounds pretty bad when I say my boyfriend dumped me because I wouldn't suck his dick as much as he wanted."
"That sounds bad because it is bad, babe."
"I know. But it was more complicated than that. Damian isn't a bad guy. I'm not mad at him. I don’t hate him. I won't shit talk him. I was hurt when he broke up with me, but I got it. It was…it was more of a misalignment of what we wanted out of sex. We were super compatible in pretty much every other way. Our issue was sexual—we just weren’t sexually compatible, and honestly, looking back, Damian was right to break up with me. It just hurt. It was hard to not feel like it was my fault. Like I should be able to get past my hangups."
"Says who?" I asked. "You were molested by a twenty-two-year-old man when you were twelve. And not just once. No one in their right mind should expect you to just 'be over it,’ as if you could wave a magic wand and erase that trauma. That’s not how it works, babe. You decide what you're comfortable with. No one else."
"That's just the thing, Rune—I want to be over it. I want to be comfortable with every part of sex, especially giving oral sex. But I'm not. And it's sort of random, which is the maddening part. I'll be fine and dandy, going down on a guy, gluck-gluck-gluck. And then suddenly I'm not fine and I have no idea what triggers it."
"I wish I had an answer or advice, but I don't."
"I'm glad you don't, Rune. If you did, it'd be because you had experience with it, and you don't. So I’m glad you don't have any advice for me." She shook her head, sighing. "We’re done with this, now. Okay?"
"Okay, but please know you can talk to me. I'm not a therapist, but I am your best friend."
"I hear you," she said. She grinned, then. "And for the record, I'd like to live vicariously through you, so do us both a favor and give hunka-hunka burnin' love Mr. Duncan Badd some sloppy head and report back to me, okay?"
I saluted the screen. “Yes, ma'am. Private Rigby reporting for duty."
She frowned at her phone. “Oh, it's Raquel calling me. Lemme merge the calls, hold on."
A second later, Raquel's face appeared on the screen next to Lindsey's.
Lindsey and I actually look a lot alike, except she has platinum blond hair. We both have bright blue eyes, similar facial features, and a similar build; we're often mistaken for twins.
Raquel is our other best friend. Lindsey and I were roommates all through college, until my parents surprised me with a condo at the start of my senior year at USC. By then, Lindsey was already living with Damian, so I moved Hayes in with me, and the four of us often went on double dates together. Raquel entered the scene junior year and quickly became a consistent third in our friendship.
Raquel was Black, with hair that changed styles every couple of months, big brown eyes, smooth, beautiful, dark brown skin, and a dancer's lean, lithe body. On screen, she was rocking her natural hair—cropped short in tight, close curls with the sides shaved, a style that highlighted her absurdly perfect facial structure, huge almond eyes, and perfectly red lips. In the background, I saw Hamish struggling to tie gear down onto the roof of a Ford Explorer, his wild red hair shaggy and messy.
"Ya'll, Alaska is crazy!” Raquel announced. "We camped by a river a few days ago, and this big ol' mama brown bear walked right by our tent with her little cubs. I about died, but they didn't do nothing. They just stopped, looked at us, and kept on going."
"Raquel," I said. "How the hell do you look so damn good after weeks in the fucking Alaskan wilderness?"
"Girl, I always look good," Raquel answered, tossing her head. "Real talk, though? I need a shower, like bad. Wet wipes and river baths can only get a bitch so clean, you know what I'm saying?"
Lindsey gagged. "River baths? You can miss me with that. Fish pee in rivers."
Raquel snickered. "It's refreshing. You're never as awake as when you jump into a glacier-fed river at six am."
"She's a nutter," Hamish said, leaning over his fiancée's shoulder to address the phone. "For a city girl, she loves the wild places even more than me. If it was up to her, we'd fly in a priest and get married on the riverbank."
"I grew up in Compton, Hamish. Until I met you, I never left LA. So yeah, I love the wilderness. It's…I dunno. It's just so alive—it makes me feel alive. Makes me feel connected to something larger than me."
Hamish gave her a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek. "And I love the shite outta you for that. You see everythin’ with a delirious sort of wonder that makes me appreciate everythin’ all the more."
I rolled my eyes. "You two are so adorable it's fucking ridiculous.”
Raquel turned and licked Hamish's cheek, and then dissolved into gales of shrieking laughter as he returned the favor, the screen flailing wildly as they playfully fought to out-lick each other.
"OKAY!" Lindsey shouted. "WE GET IT! YOU LOVE EACH OTHER! CAN WE HAVE AN ADULT CONVERSATION NOW?"
Raquel appeared on screen again, wiping at her face with her hand, panting. "Sorry, sorry. We're heading back to town, now, Rune. We don't have anywhere to stay, though, and the flight's tomorrow.”
"I'll have to talk to Duncan, see if he has any options,” I answered.” I'd let you stay with me, but I'm in a hostel and the room barely fits me. I'll find somewhere for you guys to sleep tonight, I promise. Just get back to Ketchikan. I'll have something figured out by then."
We said our goodbyes, and then Raquel dropped out, leaving Lindsey and I on the line together once more.
"I love them," Lindsey said. "They're couple goals."
