Page 83 of Size King

“Oh,” says Luke knowingly. “It all makes sense now.”

“Yes, and she keeps giving me the best sex I’ve ever had, no joke,” I rave. “Dude, this chick—you don’t even know. She’s so good, I can’t even believe it.”

“Well, damn.” He laughs. “I’ll let you get back to it then.”

“Real quick: guess what I woke up to this morning?”

If I’d known that Jillian could hear me all the way from inside her apartment, I wouldn’t have finished my story to Luke. In fact, if I could turn back time, I would never have answered Luke’s call that morning to begin with.

33

Jillian

Idon’t want to listen in on Mason’s phone conversation, but he isn’t exactly talking quietly. And the more that I listen, the more taken aback I become.

I assume he is talking to Luke, although I’m not entirely sure. They spend the majority of the time having in-depth discussions about all of the sex we are having. He is going into so many explicit and graphic details that I feel sure someone else is going to step out of their apartment and tell him to watch his mouth.

I don’t mind the fact that he is openly discussing our sex life. He’s a guy, and I know that guys don’t talk about deep shit or things that really matter to them. And I know that while girls like to talk about love, guys like to talk about sex. I’m not offended.

What does offend me, and what upsets me way more than it should have, is how he chooses to describe him and me. I don’t expect him to make me seem like such a friend when I have been thinking there is a little more to it than that. At that moment, I feel like all I am to him is a notch on his bedpost. This feeling is amplified by my realization that he doesn’t once bring up the pregnancy during his talk with his best friend. I am worried that might mean he hasn’t even brought up the pregnancy to his closest companions, which makes me feel even cheaper.

I feel terrible. I know we haven’t known each other for long, and everything is happening too fast for me to keep up, but I can replay his words in my head, certain passages haunting me on repeat. I’ve really believed that he is starting to actually like me, but his phone call shows me otherwise. I just want to be alone and think, but that is hard to do when I know he will be coming back inside at any minute.

I keep trying to tell myself that it’s silly to overreact to hearing one side of a conversation, but I can’t help but fill it all in. I feel like it’s obvious. I’m a friend—if that—we met, we fucked, and I got knocked up on accident. Even though I am carrying another life inside of me, I feel like I am nothing. I wonder like a maniac about what else he and Luke talk about whenever I am the topic of discussion.

He comes in about ten minutes after he stepped out to take his call. He’s still smiling and jubilant, whereas I can hardly muster a grin.

“Luke says hi,” says Mason.

I chuckle weakly, unable to look directly into his eyes.

“You feeling any better?” he asks.

“As good as I can.”

“I think you need rest and plenty of fluids,” he recommends. “You can’t be on your feet all the time. You’ll wear yourself out.”

“I can take care of myself just fine, thanks,” I snap.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” he says. “I’m just saying, you’d probably feel better if you lounged around or something. Let me take care of you. I’ll do whatever you need around the place, while—”

“I think I’d like a little alone time to myself to think,” I interrupt.

“Huh?”

“I forgot that I actually have plans this afternoon,” I lie. “It totally slipped my mind.”

“Oh,” he says, raising his eyebrows, not believing my lame, obvious excuse.

“For real,” I say, aboard my sinking ship. “She called me while you were out there on the phone. We’d made plans for Sunday, but she had to push them up.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, so I’m going to need to leave here soon.”

“Which means I should be on my way, too,” he says.

“Yes, go and see some more friends,” I say bitterly.