Mrs. Fletcher(9)

“Well, if you ever need to talk, just give me a call.” She looked down for a few seconds, so all I could see was the top of her head, that shiny brown hair that always smelled so good. When she looked up, she sniffled and wiped her eyes. “I missed you so much this summer.”

Zack was leaning forward now, into my field of vision. He had this sad clown expression on his face, his bottom lip pushed way out like he was about to cry. I held out my arm where Becca couldn’t see it and gave him the finger.

“I like your shirt,” I told her. “It’s really hot.”

“Yeah?” She perked right up. “I wore it special for you. I’m wearing the red thong you like, too.”

She stood up to show me, pulling down her pj pants and turning so I could appreciate her tight little gymnast butt. Zack was impressed.

“Smokin’,” I told her.

“You should come home for a weekend,” she said. “Or maybe I could come visit you.”

Zack cast a silent vote in favor of the second option.

“We’ll see,” I said. “I’m probably gonna be pretty busy.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured.”

We were quiet for a few seconds, and I knew the time had come to say what needed to be said, to apologize for the way I’d treated her over the summer, and then to explain, as tactfully as possible, that I didn’t want a long-distance relationship, and that we both should be free to hook up with other people if we wanted to. But it was hard to think straight with Zack sitting right there, flicking his tongue in the V between his index and middle fingers.

“All right,” I said. “I should probably go.”

She smiled sadly and nodded. But then she leaned a little closer.

“Hey, Brendan.”

And then, without any warning at all, she lifted her shirt and bra and showed me her boobs, which filled the entire laptop screen. It happened and then it was over. The shirt came back down and I was looking at her face again as she blew me a kiss.

“Good night, baby.”

Zack was punching the air with both hands, silently screaming the word Yes! over and over, like he’d just scored a goal.

“Thanks,” I said. “You have a good night, too.”

*

It was hard to stay mad at Zack. He acted totally innocent, like his eavesdropping on my private conversation was totally hilarious and not creepy at all, a great bonding experience for both of us. And he was really complimentary about Becca and very excited about her pink nipples, which he compared to little eraser nubs.

“Why would you want to break up with a girl like that?” he asked me.

“Because I want a clean slate.”

“Just keep her on the hook. I mean, Jesus, dude. She’s watching how-to blowjob videos on YouTube. That’ll spice up your Christmas vacation.”

“Maybe you have a point.”

“Hey,” he said. “If you don’t want her, send her my way. I’ll give her some expert instruction.”

The rest of the night was kind of a bust. Zack had been invited to an off-campus house party by a friend of his older brother, and it turned out to be a lot farther away than we thought. It took us about a half hour to walk there, and the party was already breaking up when we arrived. Somebody said there was a kegger a couple of blocks away, but we couldn’t find it, so we ended up trudging all the way back to the dorm.

It was on the early side, but we were both pretty exhausted. We brushed our teeth together in the bathroom, then headed back to our room, where we stripped down to our boxers and got into bed. It was like having a twin brother.

I lay there for a while in the dark, thinking that college was probably going to be okay. I knew I’d lucked out on the roommate front, and I was grateful for that. I mean, what if I’d gotten stuck with someone like Sanjay, a kid I had nothing in common with? It would’ve sucked, having a nerd tagging along everywhere I went, being forced to eat with him and pretend to admire his architectural drawings and superhuman test scores. It was so much easier with Zack, a bro who partied and laughed at the same stupid shit I did. I knew my mother would have preferred Sanjay, but she wasn’t the one who had to live with him.

“Oh shit,” I muttered.

“What?” mumbled Zack.

“I forgot to text my mom.”

I got out of bed, found my phone, and wrote, College is awesome!!! I figured she was probably wide awake at home, wondering how I was doing. She’d been talking a lot about how sad she’d be after I left, and how hard it would be to get used to living in an empty house.

“No offense,” Zack said, when I’d climbed back into my bed, “but your mom is pretty hot.”

“Dude,” I said. “Seriously. This is not an appropriate subject of conversation.”

“I’m just saying,” he said. “She’s kind of a MILF, don’t you think?”

This wasn’t the first time one of my friends had said this about my mom. She still dressed kinda young, and had a pretty good body for a woman her age. But she was my mom, and I didn’t like to think about her in those terms.

“What about your mom?” I said. “Is she a MILF?”

“My mom’s dead,” he said, in this really sad voice. “I miss her so much.”

“Oh shit.” I sat up in bed. “I’m really sorry.”