Swipe of Fate

Chapter 7

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Hanging out at Ethan and Riley's on the weekend quickly became a weekly event. 

Within thirty minutes of me showing up, Ethan, Riley and I would all consume enough alcohol to rid the situation of any anxiety and or awkwardness while simultaneously convincing us that we were making wonderful, once-in-a-lifetime memories that can only come when you're all piled on a couch in an apartment at age 19 or 20, talking about your dreams, marveling at yourself and acting like your life experience is unique and meaningful in some way. 

With Ethan, the alcohol guaranteed we had a connection. After all, every time we were together, the drinks would turn him into a sweet angel, one who only had love and admiration for me. 

And the alcohol forced me to fit his sweet angel archetype as well. I would do anything he said, enjoying all the inside jokes and memories I was making with him and Riley.

It was fun. Simply fun. The joy I felt when I was with Ethan allowed me to forget the sadness and anger that sometimes befell me when I was alone, not receiving a text back from him and quite certain he was having sex with some other girl at the precise moment I was crying over the situation and staring at my phone like a loser.

But when we were together, we were happy. At least in the beginning of this new stage of our relationship.

One time, Riley switched things up by inviting one of his many potential girlfriends over. Her name was Abby. She had dark hair, pert lips and a naturally beautiful, slender body (which happened to be Riley's type). 

I felt like I had become one with the apartment now and knew enough about Riley to be surveying her as a potential suitor just like I assumed Ethan would for his friend.

I was stunned to see Riley act completely differently around Abby. He was shyer, less confident. I realized Riley was only able to fully be himself because I was not an object of affection; he knew he couldn't have me, and so there was no pressure.

The same was true for Ethan and his treatment of Abby.

"This is Abby," Riley announced. "Abby, this is my roommate Ethan, and this is Ava." 

I visibly blushed, wishing that the title "girlfriend" could apply to my relationship with Ethan, and I started wondering what she thought I was. 

Because Abby was associated with Ethan and Riley, who I both very much admired, I thought I too had to impress her, even though she was likely not very special to Riley. 

He himself had told me the night before he slept with a girl named Simone, but now he wasn't sure about seeing her again because she had sex with him on the first date.

I had raised my eyes, confused and annoyed that Riley would act in such a misogynistic way. And poor Simone. But I said nothing harshly of my judgment. 

I just told him I didn't think he should judge her for an act he too participated in.

Ethan and Riley both laughed at that, like I was a female simpleton who didn't fully understand the sexual benefits they held in avoiding the harsher side of a double standard. It was one that allowed them to be hailed as heroes and icons for sleeping with so many 'sluts,' who only became that label by sleeping with them. 

If anything, guys like Ethan and Riley were the dirty ones. But truth be told, I wasn't this evolved to understand that right now. I still lived by their sexist rules instead of criticizing them.

So Abby was Riley's new flavor of the week. 

I hated to think Riley had new flavors of the week because I thought he was a great guy personally, but I was shielded from any shitty behavior he demonstrated when dating women because I was just his friend, his roommate's lover, and that had all the benefits.