The Temporary Virginity of the American Player

5. One Week Down, Three to Go.

"Well, where were you," Johnny called from the kitchen when I came dragging in later that morning. I didn't feel like death anymore, but that was between the many cappuccinos with whipped cream and mocha sprinkles shared between Coffee Girl and I. "I thought maybe I should be calling the police or searching every bar around. Joe went looking for you, but he couldn't find you."

"I was at the café," I said, tossing my wallet and car keys on the kitchen table and falling onto the sofa. "Spent the whole morning there, actually. Where's Joe?"

"He's asleep. For once, not on the sofa. You spent the whole morning at the café? Jeez, what'd you do, write a novel?"

After much deliberation, I decided not to tell Johnny about talking to Coffee Girl (CG) for hours on end. The guy was sensitive, and I didn't want him to take it the wrong way. I wasn't going to tell him about seeing her until the very end of all this. Besides, it wasn't like CG and I had a status; we'd just kicked around in the café and drank caffeine all morning long. There was nothing sexual about drinking coffee. Johnny would understand that much, I was sure of, but I didn't want him to think I was cheating by coining the operation behind fellow temporary-virgin CG.

It was a plan only a genius could have come up with, hanging out with someone who could keep me in line and wasn't interested in my stunning good looks. Lucky for me, even with a brief explanation of my unfortunate situation, she'd agreed to help me out with the plan. I could barely believe I'd actually told her about the shameful bet but I was glad I had.

"Let me get this straight," she had said, stealing another drink from my third cappuccino. "You're friends with Johnny. And Johnny bet you that you couldn't have sex for thirty-one days? And now you want me to...do what exactly?"

"Look, I have to be honest with you. My friend Johnny kind of has a thing for you. At least, I think he does. If I win this bet, he has to ask you out on a date. The problem is, it's getting more and more difficult for me to hold out. So I figured that if we start hanging out, my odds of staying a virgin will be better. You're a girl who can easily deny me."

"You're a virgin?"

"Absolutely not, it's a figure of speech," I'd said flatly. "Look, it's the perfect plan. But I need your help."

"I think it'd be fun to hang out, and personally I wouldn't mind the distraction. But what makes you think that I'm open to seeing your friend? What if I don't want to date anyone?"

"Who said anything about dating? One date. One hangout, whatever you want to call it. Johnny's got an attitude about dating, and so do you. He's a gentleman and he has zero expectations at the end of a night out, he's a total hippie about everything. He's probably just going to talk to you about the environment and shit and buy you some stupid vegetarian meal, I don't know. The deal is he has to ask you out, and that happens if I win."

"I don't know your friend well. I don't know you too well, either."

"Do you find me attractive," I'd asked, pointing at my face.

"Your personality is really questionable."

"Great, then this'll work fine! You're not interested in me. There's no chance of us ever having sex, right?"

"Of course not, but-"

"Then we can see each other," I had insisted. "We can hang out and go have fun, no expectations, no hooking up, no nothing.  Then, when it comes to the end of the month, I walk away victorious."

She'd stared at me blankly, green eyes challenging me. "I don't know about this. I guess it's not cheating, but it might be playing dirty."

"There's nothing to lose. This is no sex and no strings attached. I'm going to have to be that nice guy for three more weeks. Help me be the nice guy."