Murphy

Berrett

Ring, ring, ring ring...

"Hey..." His voice was scratchy, like he was just waking up.

"Jesus Christ Berét, it's 10:00 what are you doing without your damn coffee?"

"You know I hate it when you call me that."

"A berét can make an outfit."

"Or break one."

I loved our weird flirting. I don't think anyone else talked quite like we did. Foreplay could very well be some biting and deadpan observational humor on the latest rumor at school or pop culture or the election. Lewinsky 2016!

"What are you doing today, baby girl?" he invited.

"You know I hate it when you call me that."

"You're a shitty liar, Murphy."

"Fair enough. Anyway, no plans, I was thinking of maybe coming over if it's not too much of an imposition on your sleepy time?" I questioned.

"Yeah sure. I'm gonna get ready though. Just come on by."

"See you soon!"

I booked it in my Camry down Trusdale. Some days I needed Berrett. I was comfortable with him, I enjoyed talking to him, and then there was the sex.

I don't think I ever even knew what sex was until he came along. I know that sounds cheesy. Like I'm Samantha Jones or something. But I don't care! He is just so fucking good at it. No wonder, all the practice on girls.

At the end of the street, I came to Berrett's. His house was cozy. I know that's realtor-speak for tiny as hell, but it was honestly the cutest little house. It was just him and his mom after all. It looked like something out of Hansel and Gretel. Except without the candy. Or murder. And in a populous neighborhood. Okay, maybe just your grandmother's house?

I pulled into the driveway and instantly spotted Berrett standing on his porch in his pajamas.

Berrett Jameson was a through-and-through, ladies' man jock-type guy. Except for the fact that he liked me. And probably other men too. He says it's just because I'm so feminine, but I kid him that one day he'll settle down with a nice man named Tom.

I got out of my car and walked up to the porch.

"Hiya!" I couldn't hide my eagerness.

"Hey, honey." Berrett said sweetly.

"How've you been doing?" he asked, pulling me into his seemingly giant-like arms.

"Good. Wanna go inside or has Lupita not arrived yet today?"

"She only comes once a week. Stop giving me shit, what's wrong with having a maid? We do okay!"

"Uh-huh."

He opened the door for me.

"I'll make you some hot chocolate." he decided.

"Thanks!" I said, genuinely excited.

I scanned the living room/kitchen. Lupita had definitely not arrived yet. I sat down on their couch. The TV was on. Shallow Hal.

"THIS movie?!" I exclaimed.

"Don't make fun of me. It's adorable."

"No, no, I agree! It's actually a really sweet movie. People got all offended when it came out but I don't care. I think that Rosemary is truly beautiful. Goals AF." I said ironically.

"Lit goals AF." He played along. Sometimes we did this thing where we talk like people on the Internet do, but in real life.

"Yeah, Gwyn was hot back in her day." Berrett continued, in a longing tone.