When Joss Met Matt (3 page)

“Wow.”

“Yeah, I know.” I dropped my head onto his shoulder.

“So, you've, like, never dated anyone else, have you?”

“Pretty much not.”

He laughed quietly.

“It's not funny,” I protested.

“It's kind of funny,” he said.

“No, it's not.” I swatted him in the leg. He didn't answer, but squeezed my shoulder.

I wiped the makeup out of my eyes with the corner of one sleeve. My shirt still smelled like a frat party.

“God, do you know what I did tonight?” I sighed.

“No.”

I slumped forward and covered my head with my arms. “I tried to get a frat guy named Jeff to sleep with me,” I said to my lap.

Matt's hand landed on my back and he drummed his fingers in thought. “I'm not sure if it's more pathetic that you thought that was a good idea or that you actually failed to get a frat guy to sleep with you.”

I sat up. “Hey! He passed out. It wasn't my fault.”

He grinned at me. “That's sad.”

“Ugh, he was so nasty. Thank God he passed out!”

“Why did you want to sleep with him anyway?”

“It wasn't him! I just … I just wanted to … I don't know.”

“Get your boyfriend out of your system?”

“Yeah.” I felt deflated, hearing it out loud like that. “I didn't want him to be the last person I slept with anymore.”

“Like sorbet.”

I must have looked confused because he elaborated. “You know, at a fancy restaurant, you get sorbet between courses. To cleanse your palate.”

“That's exactly it!” I slapped his thigh with both hands.

He laughed.

“I need to ‘cleanse my palate.' ” I made finger quotes. “Sorbet Sex.”

“There's a problem, though,” Matt said.

“What?”

“If you have Sorbet Sex with the wrong person, you'll just have to find another person to sleep with after that. It could go on and on … years.”

I thought about that. “Jeff definitely would have been the wrong person.”

“Good thing he passed out.”

I smiled. “Thank God for binge drinking.”

We fell quiet, looking at each other. I licked my lips, willing him to make the first move. Scoop me up and press me into his bed like a bodice-challenged romance cover girl. It would be so much easier if he just took the lead—I wouldn't have to think. But, he didn't. He didn't look away though, and the corner of his mouth turned up in a tiny smile. I didn't know what to make of him. What I did know was that I was running out of time before the moment went from awkward to creepy.

Just get this over with. The hell with it,
I thought, and leaned in. Our lips had just met when the sound of metal scraping on wood startled us and I turned to the door. The key finally sank home, and Matt's roommate, Chris, opened the door.

“'Sup,” he mumbled.

“Hey,” Matt replied.

Chris peeled off his jacket and stepped out of his shoes before falling into bed, face-first. We watched him breathe for a while, afraid to move or speak. After a few minutes, Chris struggled on the bed until the blankets were more on top of his body than below it. A few minutes after that, he let out a loud snore.

“I should go,” I said.

Matt nodded slowly, looking at Chris's motionless form. “Yeah. I guess so.”

Matt followed me to the door and held it open for me. I turned in the hall and looked at him in the dim light. He was too nice to ask if he could come back to my room with me, I was pretty certain. I wasn't entirely sure he wanted to, for that matter. I knew I could do the asking, but I had no idea where Rachel might be, and I sort of felt the moment had passed. Matt and I were meant to be friends, probably. I decided to take the high road.

“Thanks for letting me freak out.”

“No problem.”

Impulsively I hugged him. “You're a good guy.”

He gave me a look that said he thought I was crazy as clearly as the words would have.

“Good night.”

“Good night, Joss.”

Chapter Four

Now

I made it home after only a mild battle against the traffic. My cat, Dewey, greeted me at the door with his usual loudmouthed bid for attention. I bent to scratch his head, but it was never enough for him and he pursued me through the house, winding between my ankles and meowing.

“All right, all right,” I said, hunkering down to give him a more thorough petting. He flopped onto his side and started doing all his best yoga stretches for me. I rubbed his belly and lied to him that he was a good boy. He ate it up.

Partially satisfied, Dewey let me get back to the business of coming home. I let my laptop cycle on while I divested myself of the crap I toted to work. There were an impressive number of junk emails. The only items of interest were a random hello from my friend Deanna, and the notice that my order from Gap.com had shipped. But I couldn't concentrate well enough to read Deanna's message thoroughly, let alone respond to it.

Dewey jumped onto my lap and put his paws on the keyboard sending the computer into fits. I knocked him away, but he was like a feline bungee jumper and popped immediately back into the same position. The computer went into a restart cycle, thanks to Dewey's lucky paw placement. Taking it as a sign, I decided to go through my snail mail instead.

Again, a remarkable collection of junk with only a few gems. New issue of
Glamour,
funny card from my sister, Darcy, and the unmistakable calligraphy of a wedding invitation. I slit it open and extracted the inner envelope. It was a square one. Expensive. Usually means an expensive wedding to go with it. The invitation was for Jessie's wedding.

I carried the card to the bulletin board where I kept invitations and announcements pinned. This year was shaping up to be a wedding extravaganza already. I had four Save the Date cards on the board, two invitations and a bridal shower invitation. As luck would have it, Jessie's wedding was on a different day than any other event so far. God forbid I should miss an opportunity to wear uncomfortable shoes and eat lukewarm chicken cordon bleu. I tapped the date into my phone's calendar and made a mental note to find out if Matt was invited.

He probably would be. Jessie had adored Matt since freshman year. She always said he was the nicest boy in the world, even now that he hardly qualified as a boy. All because of Halloween.

Chapter Five

Seven Years Earlier … First Semester Freshman Year

Halloween is practically a religion in Madison. Not dressing up is strictly a faux pas, and everyone goes out on Saturday night to see and be seen on State Street. The street is closed to traffic and the costumed masses take over. The more creative your costume, the better. At least, for the seasoned pros. As a freshman girl, I followed the unwritten rule: wear something cliché and skimpy. I opted for the angel version. My friends Jessie, Geena, Kerry, and Megan went as a belly dancer, a nurse, a pirate, and a butterfly. We pretty much looked like five exotic dancers on break from the club, but so did most of the other girls on the street.

Matt's roommate, the infamous Chris, had a disreputable older brother. He was having a house party, and he had given Chris the go-ahead to invite anyone who could come up with five-dollars for a cup. I made the list.

Geena brought a bottle of Malibu rum to my room and the five of us spent a couple hours getting ready for our Halloween debut and drinking.

Around nine, the girls convinced me to call Ben and leave him a nasty message on his machine. He picked up. I hung up.

At nine-thirty I called again, and got his answering machine. My extremely mature message went something like this:

“Hi, Ben, it's Jocelyn. Um, if—what's her name?—Kate isn't with you, I think you should save this message for her later. Did you tell her you slept with me when you came up here? Like, a hundred times? Does she know that? Just checking.”

It was totally immature and stupid, but it felt great. To this day, I hope that he brought Kate back to his room and she heard it.

We hit the street parade right after that, teetering down the street with the rest of the costumed masses. It was crowded and freezing, but the costumes we saw made it worth the trip. One group of about ten guys ran up and down the street wearing nothing but Speedos and water polo helmets. Not very creative, but ballsy.

With Kerry navigating, we found our way to the house party. Wielding five-dollar bills, we gained entrance and found an apartment filled with black lights and fluorescent paint. The walls were covered with some kind of plastic and painted with slogans like “Happy Halloween” and “Go Badgers.” Also a lot of silly doodles, many of which were undecipherable. The black lights filled the room with an eerie glow, and a fog machine added to the gloom. The only incandescent light came from the kitchen, where I knew the keg would be. We made our way to the light like moths. I spotted Chris loitering in the door to the kitchen.

“'Sup, ladies?” he greeted us, checking us out like cuts of meat. “You guys look good.”

He was our benefactor for the evening, so all I said was, “Thanks,” despite the fact that he made my skin crawl.

We took our turns at the keg, filling plastic cups, then moved back into the dark living room. The music was loud and it was hard to talk, so we mostly stood in a rough circle and bobbed to the music, draining our beers. I still hated the taste, but my tongue was pretty numb from the Malibu we'd had earlier in the night, so it wasn't as bad as usual.

I got nudged in the back and turned. Matt, disguised as a devil, was behind me.

“Hey.” I smiled. “Nice costume.”

“What costume?” he shouted over the music.

I laughed.

“You're drinking beer,” he noted.

“Trying.” I nodded.

He leaned in to my ear and asked, “You doin' okay tonight?” He'd been sweet about the whole Ben thing, asking how I was doing every time I saw him.

“Yeah.” I nodded again. “Thanks.”

“Good.”

Chris appeared at Matt's shoulder and shouted something about “Boat Races.”

Matt looked at us. “Wanna play?”

“What?”

He inclined his head toward the kitchen and I followed, curious. Jessie and Geena followed me. There was a drinking game in progress, involving chugging a beer and trying to flip the cup over on the edge of the table. It seemed pretty stupid, but it was amusing to watch.

“You in?” Chris asked me and the other girls.

I shook my head, but Jessie and Geena were ready to play. I watched for a while before I got pulled into a couple of rounds. I lost both times due to my poor chugging skills, and declared myself incapable. I settled for cheering on Jessie and Geena, who showed surprising skill at the game. At first.

It was only one-thirty when Geena started to look a little green. “I don't feel so good.”

Chris showed her to the bathroom and I followed with a couple cups of water. I hunkered down behind her while she puked, but I was careful to avoid sitting on the floor. Already sticky and patterned with footprints, I couldn't imagine putting anything but my shoes on it. Geena wasn't so picky, and I couldn't blame her. People kept hammering on the door, but she'd a lot to drink—her stomach seemed bottomless. As soon as she slowed down, I talked her into going outside. She could use the fresh air, and I figured it was better to have her vomit out there than start a riot over the bathroom.

She made it as far as the living room before she sagged against the wall.

“I need to sit down,” she said.

“No, come on, let's just get outside.”

She didn't answer, but slumped down the wall, eyes closed.

I looked for Jessie, Kerry, and Megan, but I could only find Jessie. She was tucked into a corner of the couch nearly asleep. I shook her awake and demanded, “Where are Kerry and Megan?”

“They left,” she mumbled.

“Geena's puking,” I informed her.

She didn't reply, but made a face.

“We gotta take her home.”

Jessie nodded slowly. “Right behind you.”

I forced my way through the crowd to the spot where I'd left Geena. When I got there, I'd lost Jessie again. It was like herding cats. I growled to myself and hunkered down in front of Geena, giving her a full up-skirt view if she'd cared to look. She didn't, of course. She didn't want to see anything but the inside of her own eyelids.

“Are you better now?” I asked.

“No,” she groaned.

“Come on, let's go outside.” I pulled her to her feet and dragged her toward the door. Outside, I found a dry spot on the steps and directed Geena onto it. “Stay,” I told her, then waded back into the party to retrieve Jessie. She was just where I'd left her, and nearly asleep again. I frowned, wondering how I was going to get them both home.

Leaving Jessie for a few minutes, I looked for Chris and asked him where his brother's phone was. “I need to call a cab,” I explained.

A guy in earshot started laughing. “Yeah right. You'll never get a cab on Halloween, honey.”

“I won't?”

He shook his head. “No way.”

“Shit.” I'd have to take my chances on the street. Hopefully getting Jessie into the cool air would wake her up a little.

I got Jessie to her feet and pulled her arm over my shoulders. She was always taller than me, and in her stacked heels she towered. I took a staggering step toward the door and earned a few less-than-helpful comments on the way out.

“Dead man walkin'!”

“Tim-ber!”

Chris's brother spotted me and shoved a few people out of the way. “Make a hole, people!” I had a feeling he was more interested in avoiding a spectacular display of bodily fluids in his living room than he was in helping out the little curly-haired angel trying to shove the taller, less steady belly dancer out the door.

Matt was near the door and he rushed to pull Jessie's other arm across his own shoulders. “Let me help you.”

I was in no position to protest, or even thank him.

“She okay?” he asked when we got outside.

“Hope so. I've got to get Geena home, too.”

Geena at least, was on her feet, but hanging over the railing, heaving.

“I'll help you,” Matt said.

“You don't have to,” I said.

“I know.” He shrugged.

“Seriously, Matt, you don't have to leave. I'll be fine.” Jessie unfurled from my shoulders and slumped against the door.

“Yeah, totally fine,” Matt agreed.

Geena made a particularly guttural sound and Jessie whined, “Gross.”

“Shut up,” Geena said, and then gagged.

“Last chance,” Matt offered.

I sighed. It was no use fighting the inevitable. “I need help.”

“No problem.”

The walk to the dorm, which should have taken ten or fifteen minutes, took half an hour. Jessie kept sitting down and Geena was practically dead weight. Matt did most of the work hefting Geena, which left me with the task of directing the aimless Jessie. She begged to stop walking, to sleep anywhere we would leave her.

“At least she's not as useless as Geena,” I said, tugging Jessie away from the concrete cover to one of the steam tunnels.

“Hey!” Geena protested.

“I'd rather be Geena tomorrow,” Matt said.

“Why?”

“At least she got it all out of her stomach. Jessie's got to sleep it off.”

“I think I might—” Geena hiccupped, and Matt rushed her onto the grass, keeping one hand on her elbow, but stepping back to avoid the splash zone.

Jessie took the opportunity to lie down on the sidewalk.

“No, Jess, come on!” I nudged her thigh with my foot. “You gotta get up.”

“I'll get her in a second,” Matt said.

“Why are you so nice?” I asked. “Don't you get tired of it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You're, like, the nicest guy in the world. You'll help anyone.”

He gave me his “you're crazy” look. “No, I won't.”

“Why are you helping me?”

“We're friends, dumbass.” He patted Geena on the back. “Done?” She nodded and he led her back to the sidewalk. “Why are you helping them?”

“They're my friends.”

“So why is it okay for you, but not me?” he asked, bending over Jessie to grab her hands.

“I'm cold,” Jessie announced.

“You need to get off the ground,” Matt said.

“Because you're a guy,” I said as if Jessie hadn't spoken.

“So?”

“So most of the guys I know wouldn't leave a party to help a friend get a couple of drunks home.”

“You don't know many nice guys, do you?” He got Jessie up and set her adrift down the sidewalk, so he could retrieve Geena.

“Ben was nice,” I said. “Before, I mean.”

“Right.”

“He was!”

“Nice guys don't—” He cut himself off. “Do what he did.”

I winced, but it wasn't Matt's fault. I was the one who brought Ben up. “Yeah. I guess not.”

Matt didn't answer, but he exhaled sharply.

He was right, of course, a nice guy wouldn't have led me on for the whole weekend, cheated on me with Kate, then cheated on Kate with me, and then acted like I was irrational for being pissed. But, he'd said he didn't plan it that way, and only two weeks after the breakup, I had to believe he wasn't a monster. I wouldn't have wasted my entire high school dating career and my virginity on a monster, would I?

Jessie had gotten ahead of us by half a block, and as we watched, she chose a spot between two bushes beside the agricultural library and curled up for a nap.

“If she won't get up this time, I'm going to let her sleep there,” I told Matt.

He laughed. “Do you think she realizes that our dorm is right there?”

“Jessie!” I shouted. “We're almost home! Get up!”

She stirred, surveyed the area, then jumped up. “Home!” Her heels clip-clopped as she broke into a run. I wondered if she had a key with her.

It took us a few more minutes to guide Geena home, and definitely not at a run. We found Jessie sitting in front of the main entrance to Cole Hall when we rounded the building.

“Did you lose your key?” Matt asked.

“No, Geena has it!” she moaned.

Matt used his own key to open the exterior door and the two of us hustled our drunk charges into the ancient elevator. There was no way Geena could navigate the stairs.

“Where's the key?” I asked Jessie when we were standing in front of Room 213.

“Mmm …” She looked befuddled for a moment, then patted Geena's hips. “Here!” She pulled up Geena's skirt on one side, revealing the key safety-pinned to her underwear.

“Smart,” Matt observed, while I unclipped the key and opened the door.

“Oh, bed, bed, bed, bed, bed!” Jessie hummed, climbing up the ladder to her loft. Her clod-hopper shoes dropped off the side after a moment.

I looked up at Geena's matching loft, and decided she'd be better off on the couch below it. We lowered her onto it and I pulled some bedding down from the loft. Matt put a wastebasket by Geena's head and looked in the tiny refrigerator. The only available liquid was a Diet Coke, so he left that next to her as well. I unzipped her boots and pulled them off her feet and then we left them to sleep.

“Thanks,” I said when we were in the hall.

“No problem.”

My room was across the hall and two doors down. “You wanna come in?” I asked.

“Where's Rachel?” he asked.

“Oh God, she's so lame. She went home for the weekend.”

“On Halloween?” He made a face.

“I know, right?” I rolled my eyes as I turned my back slightly to retrieve my key from my bra, and let us into the room. Rachel had her bed lofted with a love seat underneath, but my bed remained on the floor—being on the second floor was all the height I could handle. Lofts scared me. The bed seemed small as I looked at it, and I was strangely embarrassed. “You want something to drink?” I asked. “I don't know what I have.”

“I think I need to lay off for a while. I've got some serious gut rot.”

I turned from the refrigerator and offered, “Tums?”

“No thanks.” He sat on my bed.