Equilateral Love

Chapter 2 - Aftermath; Part 2

Abby

Oh. My. God. What the fuck did I do? No, seriously - what the fuck did I do, and how do I do it again?

It was like the stars and planets had all lined up perfectly, like, by magic, and I spent the next day and a half in a daze, just blown away, just . . . just wondering if there was some secret formula, some magic word I could say that would make that happen again. I mean I made it happen, right? The power was in me. I did it. I could do it again. But . . . how? Sunday was too soon - and it's not like I could just pop out of my bedroom and proclaim to the whole house, "Come out everyone, let's all have sex together!" No, no no no.

It had to be smooth - had to be sort of seamless, right? Should I suggest another movie marathon? Or was that too obvious? Should it be obvious? I mean it wasn't like I was trying to trick them or anything, and they wanted it too, right? I mean, it was awesome! Maybe I could invite them both into my room - be like, "let's build a blanket fort and have a sleepover!" and then fuck them both in the fort! What all do you need for a blanket fort? I wondered. I had a bed, and . . . one blanket. So far. The blanket situation was a work in progress, I had just moved in! You can't bring a thousand blankets from California! Whatever, they had blankets. And . . . chairs? Fuck, Michael was a fucking structural engineer or something right? He could figure this shit out, Jesus.

I kept peeking my head out of my room, walking into the kitchen, just kind of gliding around the living room, aimlessly, waiting for someone to say something to me. It was, like, nothing dude. It was a ghost town. I swear to God, a tumbleweed rolled by me while I was just standing there, next to the couch, straight up and still like a cactus - just looking at that couch, thinking about when Michael had grabbed me, lifted me up, tossed me onto it. Fuck. I bit my lip. Could that kind of thing happen in a blanket fort?

Michael and Brianna were quiet, and busy. You know, the kind of busy you get when you're afraid someone is going to notice you're not really that busy? "Oh, um, yeah, sorry, I really have to, uhh, arrange all the knick-knacks on my desk at incredibly precise angles, uhh, have you seen my protractor?"

Shit. Were they freaked out? Was it too much? I might have freaked them out. It might have been too much. I mean, honestly, it had kinda been a lot for me - and I figured I was probably a little bit more experienced than they were. I mean Michael with his one big ex, and Brianna - shit, I wasn't even sure about Brianna. She had her first kiss at, what, 17 right? Was . . . was she a virgin? Had I . . .

I was wigging myself out now. All of a sudden I felt like maybe I had escalated things too much, too fast, they were both freaked out, they're going to freak out and leave. But no, I mean . . . they liked it, right? I mean, it was amazing. And it was intense, but . . . intensely good. Duh. And remember what Brianna said afterward? She wasn't like "Oh God, the horror," was she? No. She said "that was really hot." And she was fucking right. And Michael, Michael was a dude, dude. Come on Abby, I thought, you really think a red blooded American man is gonna turn down sex with two girls? Two girls as hot as you and Brianna? No way, bitch!

They just needed time, maybe. Just a little time to process things, that's all. Hell, maybe I could use some time too.

I tried waiting - just kind of sitting in my room. Take a nap? No, not tired. Um. Think about school? No, school is fucking lame. Eventually, I just ended up watching YouTube on my phone for like three fucking hours, until eventually I passed out, and the weekend slipped away.

And then school. Dude. School is fucking lame. I packed up my little backpack, and put on my little shoes, and made my way aaallllll the way out to campus, just so some bored TA could be all like "here's a fucking photocopy of some syllabus on some fucking yellow paper, attendance is mandatory, buh bye!" and then on to the next class. Laaame.

I mean, not to sound, like, anti-intellectual or whatever - I mean, I actually love school, I love learning, I always wanna learn everything, and knowing shit is so cool, but also . . . respectfully, I had other shit on my mind at the time. Right?

Anyway, school came and went like a dry fart, and then I was home again, and alone. Michael was out. Brianna was in her room, probably - hard to say - she never made so much as a sound in there, like she closed the door and just ceased to exist. So I was alone. I dropped my bag at the corner of my bed, and flopped down, staring at the ceiling.

I need some kind of . . . of vibe detector, I thought, imagining a device that would beep when the opportune moment arrived, when everyone in the room was feeling perfectly horny and optimally chill. But it's me, I thought, I'm the vibe detector - I have to do it myself. And isn't that just the way? Nothing is ever done for you, is it?

I guess the long day and the, like, stress of it or whatever got to me a little bit, because I had barely acknowledged that thought when I started to drift away, and I probably dozed off for 15 or 20 minutes before I heard the sound of Michael coming home, door closing, grocery bags rustling. I shot up from the bed - then eased myself back down. Hooold on girlie, I thought to myself, no need to go apeshit. Just wander out in a minute or so and help the man with his groceries. Keep it casual.

And so I did - airily breezing into the kitchen as Michael sorted and put away food, and I opened the bag to give him a hand - olives, mozzarella - and there, over to the side, was a box of condoms. Ohhh shit, I thought. Well somebody's on the same page as me.

I pulled them from the bag to take a quick look. I felt like, probably, a man's choice of brand and style said something about him, although I couldn't really say what. I was honestly used to just using whatever was on hand, and didn't tend to notice much difference beyond oh this one has a blue wrapper or this one smells different.

I was trying to think of something sort of lightly flirtatious and witty to say, to let him know that I had noticed them, when he just sort of turned around and caught me standing there, just, like, holding the box. And for a second I just kinda stared at him, looking at me looking at him looking at me looking at his condoms, caught in the act of catching the man in the act, and then I was trying to think of something else to say, something that would be light and fun and sexy and sort of diffuse this tension - and then all of a sudden Brianna was there, busting in from nowhere, looking ready to say something.

And very suddenly, my vibe sensor was going off.