false god

chapter 8

This coupon is good for
ONE LAP DANCE
I'll bring out the $1's of you bring out your inner stripper!

"Think it will snow soon?"

Taylor and Travis were walking back to their apartment in mid-November, a week before Thanksgiving break. Taylor, who had been checking off her assignments in her brain, startled.

"What?"

"Snow?" Travis prompted, "Though, here in the city, it will probably be gross and sludgy anyway."

"You're asking me...about the weather?" Taylor asked with a confused frown.

"Am I speaking German?"

"No...no...you just hate talking about stupid things like the weather," Taylor commented.

"Well, not with you, I guess," Travis said, suddenly sounding uncertain. He managed to recover quickly, "Is there something else you'd rather talk about?"

Taylor hesitated. There had been the growing thought in the back of her mind since their last coupon, one she just had never found the right segue into.

So yes, she actually did, but she was pretty sure it was going to be a wild switch of topic.

"Uh...no?"

"You sound very unsure about that, Swift," Travis said, pulling his hat over his hears and wrapping his gray plaid scarf around his frost-bitten nose.

"I wanted to talk about our sexual histories," Taylor came out with it, crossing her arms, "I feel like we probably should."

Travis stumbled as he walked a bit. He snorted.

"Way to dive into something."

"We don't have-,"

"No, it's fine, Tay," Travis insisted, "We probably should, you're right. I was just looking for a little more of a...casual conversation. Like how Gigi and Zayn are totally gross and kissy-kissy and way too lovey-dovey or your opinion on gun control."

"Gun control is a casual conversation?"

"It's less intense than our sexual histories," Travis said, grinning to her, "But, I kid. We'll do it. Maybe just not walking through New York City. I know, I know...who's gunna care? Still, it's not exactly polite sidewalk talk."

Taylor could not disagree there. They were steps away from their apartment anyway, having decided to just pick up some Chinese after class. Taylor found something with far less baggage to discuss in the meantime (a new movie that had just come out. Always a safe topic between the pair of them) until they managed to get up to their apartment, set out the feast, and start to dig in.

Travis brought it up first, which was a relief.

"So," He said, waving his fork around. He was awful with chopsticks and refused to learn, "What did you want to talk about?"

"Well, I know from the party you're not a virgin..." Taylor paused, unsure how to continue, "How many? And when?"

"That surprise you?" Travis asked, grinning, enjoying how she squirmed a bit.

"Yeah, to be honest."

"Well?" He popped a wonton in his mouth, "Me too. I didn't touch girls in high school, or rather, they didn't touch me. I was weird. I am weird." He restated, touching his hat.

"I don't think you're weird." Taylor scoffed.

"You're just lying, but I appreciate it," Travis said with a self-assured shrug, "Point being, it wasn't until Freshman in college. Patrick. He helped me, as he does. Didn't know names, it was just a few tinder hookups he got for me. So, I'm a newly not a virgin, I suppose. Haven't done a whole ton else. Like I said, it wasn't like there were secret liaisons under the bleachers."