“We’re just leaving,” Fletch says as he wraps his arm around me.

As we get closer to the door, I hear someone telling her friend. “Oh, my God. Shane totally had his hand on her ass earlier. Do you think Fletch knows?”

Chapter Seven

Life carries on like normal for a few days. The coffee date with Jones had to be pushed back until next week. Between my insane class schedule and his practice and games and travel schedule, we’ll be lucky to meet before break. Also, I had to explain why there was a rumor that I was sleeping with both the guys and were they going to fight him if he took me out. I assured him it was a misunderstanding. That we were all three just friends.

He doesn’t need to know what the three of us are in my dirty, dirty imagination.

I retire to my room one night, not able to watch my roommates play one more minute of shooter games. Gah. They are insanely addicted to killing each other. About an hour later, I meander back out to grab my calc book and stop, completely mesmerized by the porno the guys are watching.

The blonde on the screen is the object of affection to at least four men. Once again, I wonder why the men in gay porn are so much more attractive than the men in straight porn. Because. Yeah. These guys are not hot. The woman looks a little bored, actually, despite all the action.

I approach the back of the couch quietly and lean down. “This a new video game, guys?”

“Shit!” and “Fuck!” are yelled at the same time. Fletch is fumbling with the remote, turning the volume up instead of hitting the power button, and the moans get super loud until he gets the TV off. Shane and I are laughing hysterically, and Fletch is uber upset, which makes it all the funnier.

I round the couch and sit between them. “Oh, my God. The look on your face, Fletch.”

He’s red and starting to get pissed, draining his beer. “Shut it.”

“So, you guys watch porn together a lot? How come I never get invited to movie night?”

I suppose a few weeks ago, I’d have been mortified and probably would have slunk away unnoticed. But I’m more comfortable with them now. And, well, porn is something I’m somewhat of an expert on anyway.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Pen.”

“Jesus, Fletch. Are you her grandma or something?” Shane shakes his head. “I’m sure little sister has seen fuck flicks before. She’s a virgin, not Amish.”

“It’s excellent research material,” I answer, noticing that they both halt their beers halfway to drinking.

Should I not have said that? Am I being awkward? Maybe they don’t think girls should watch porn or would want to. Maybe most don’t. Maybe I’m a weirdo. Maybe—