A Perfect Ten
Page 91
“Bastard,” I muttered under my breath. “I can’t believe you even liked that guy. I’ve always thought he was a fucking douche.”
“Oh, well I’m so sorry I couldn’t like someone you approved of.”
“You should be,” I said. “I could probably find you a better guy than you could. Someone who wouldn’t fucking cheat on you, anyway.”
“Really?” She arched me an incredulous glance. “I would just love to hear what kind of guy you think I should end up with.”
“Fine.” I cleared my throat and resituated myself in the passenger seat, thinking it through. “He has to like football, or I wouldn’t have anything in common with him, and if he’s going to hang out with you, then I’ll probably be stuck hanging out with him more than I want.”
“Okay,” she said on the nod as she slowed the car to turn a corner. “I could handle a football player.”
“Right.” I drew in a breath before adding, “Loyal, faithful, quiet.”
“Quiet?” She sent me a mystified glance.
I nodded, sticking with my original decision. “Yeah. We’re both talkers, so you’d definitely need a listener, maybe someone a little reserved but totally willing to stand up for you if need be. He’d have to be bigger than me, because I just wouldn’t be able to respect him if he wasn’t. Oh, and smart, like into science so that he’ll end up a rich heart surgeon or something.”
“You haven’t described his looks yet.”
I shrugged and made a face. “Fuck, like I care how he looks.”
She grinned. “Then I want him to be hot. Preferably blue eyes and maybe even a dimple.”
I shook my head, boggled as to why those two things had made the cut and nothing else. Girls were so strange. “Fine,” I said. “Whatever.”
She snorted out a quick laugh. “You know, we just described a guy who couldn’t possibly exist. A sexy, shy, biology-loving athlete. Really, Oren. Never going to happen.”
“Well, then I guess we’ll just have to grow old together, single and hopeless.” Glancing out the passenger side window, I mumbled to myself, “Because I’m certainly never getting laid again.”
But my twin heard me, loud and clear. “What do you mean again? You haven’t—oh my God. Were you at Libby’s house when I just called?”
“I was on my way home from her house when you called,” I corrected.
She gasped. “Holy shit. So you two—” When she glanced at me, her eyebrows crinkled with worry. “Oh, no. Your birthmark freaked her out, didn’t it?”
I zipped her a hard stare. “How the hell did you know that?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just...guessed. I mean, I’ve never actually seen a real live penis aside from yours when we were younger, but I’ve heard girls talk, and none of them mention bright purple spots on the side.”
I sank lower in my seat, wanting to just fucking die. “Well, thanks for cluing me in on that...after I’d already fucking humiliated myself for life. She’s going to tell everyone, you know. She’s going to say what a freak I am, and I’m never going to have sex again in my entire—”
“Oh, whatever.” Zoey snorted and rolled her eyes at me. “Not every girl out there is as callous as Libby, the slut, Lawson. One day, you’re going to meet an amazing girl—that I can actually stomach—and she’s going to love everything about you, even your colorful pecker.”
I arched an eyebrow. “I was actually hoping I could get as much pussy as possible before the one came along and I had to settle down.”
Zoey gasped and grabbed a wadded napkin that had been sitting in the center console before she flung it at me. “Don’t you dare end up being such a player, Oren Michael Tenning, or I’ll—”
“Watch out,” I shouted as we entered an intersection. The vehicle to the left wasn’t obeying their stop sign.
Zoey slammed on the brake, but it was too late. She screamed my name, and I screamed hers.
I was still shouting her name when I woke, thrashing in my sheets. “Zoey,” I choked out, only to jump out of my skin when a pair of hands grabbed my arm.
“Ten. Hey, Ten. Wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”
I jerked upright and panted, out of breath as my two roommates backed up a step from my mattress, eyeing me as if I was rabid. Sweat rolled down my temples and bare chest.
I gaped up at Ham, remembering every detail of the last conversation I’d had with my twin. The first moment I’d met him, I’d almost shit my pants with disbelief. He’d been the very image of the guy Zoey and I had described. I think my sister would’ve actually liked him too...if she’d ever gotten the chance to meet him.