The Temporary Virginity of the American Player

11. I Think She's Dr. Phil in Disguise.

"Okay, jailbird. Change into these."

"These are guy's clothes," I said, looking down at the stack of men's clothes she handed me. I held up a t-shirt and squinted. "Do you have anything...smaller?"

"Now you're complaining about the size? Forget it! They're my ex-boyfriend's clothes. I was going to burn them, but I figured they might come in handy if I hung onto them. Didn't anticipate using them for this occasion, but I suppose it's worthy."

"Gee, thanks," I muttered, sliding out of my shirt and exchanging it for Lena's ex's.

"I'll give you a ride back to your place tomorrow if you want. I figured it'd be a lot safer for your friends if you didn't see them directly after I bailed you out of jail."

"You're probably right," I said, and sank down to her floor. She handed me a bottle of water and sat down beside me. There we were on the floor of her half-empty apartment living room, the first time I'd ever seen her place. I looked around at her stuff, or lack thereof. 

"How do you feel," she asked.

 "I feel like death."

"You've been feeling like death for two weeks. I'm surprised it took you this long to get arrested. Here, lean back. Let me find you an ice pack."

I moaned as she climbed up again, making her way to the freezer. "I can't believe today. First I get my own cappuccino dumped on my dick in front of a whole café and potential hook-up...then I get attacked by hookers AND arrested all in the same day!"

"So you had some bad luck," she shrugged. "It happens."

I looked at her and said, "No. No, it doesn't happen."

She shrugged and pulled a pack of frozen peas from the fridge, holding them up. "This is your ice pack. Do you want a drink?"

"Lena drinks," I asked, watching her move upside-down.

"Not much, but Lane brings back wine and champagne and the occasional beer back from the bar. It's good stuff."

"Give me some wine. I don't ever want to see a beer ever again. Curse all beers until the end of the month!"

She tossed me the bag of peas and took out a couple of fancy wineglasses down from a cabinet. I laid on the floor like a dead fish as she took the cork out of a bottle of raspberry wine and poured both of us a drink. She sat down next to me and held out the glass to me. I sat up and took in a breath. 

"Thanks for bailing me out of jail today."

"Don't mention it. So Joe tried to get you to screw up, huh?"

"He tried to have me attacked is what he tried to do. By women, the big jerk. Who does that?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, taking a sip. "Guys have a weird sense of humor. I won't even try to understand why your friend set you up with hookers. But on the bright side, you got out of doing laundry."

I looked at her and said, "I was in jail, Lena. I'm not proud of that!"

"Just trying to lighten the mood," she shrugged. I didn't respond, but took a big gulp of wine. "Hey, you know what we should do? We should make a fort."

"What?"

"A fort, we should make a fort," she nodded.

"Why?"

"Don't be such a puss-puss," she told me, standing up. "Come on. It'll be fun. We can throw on a movie and make a fort and just chill."

"I'm not making a fort!"