Simon: So…she’s giggling? Inside joke, she says. So maybe she is okay with how this is going—oops, grabbed the wrong bag of Gardetto’s. Did she just growl at me?

...

Caroline: Turn my tatas down and then try to steal my Gardetto’s? I don’t think so, buddy. Okay, Reynolds, no more giggling. You can’t avoid this forever, even in your own mind. Here are the questions on deck: 1. Why did you throw yourself at Simon last night? And you’re not allowed to blame alcohol or music or vacation vibes or Nerves or Heart or anything. 2. Why did he turn you down? If he didn’t want to go there, why has he been flirting with you for weeks, and not just in the neighborly way? He’s got a harem, for God’s sake. He’s not a Puritan. Agh!! 3. Does being rejected by Simon have anything to do with the date you agreed to with James? 4. How the hell do Simon and I go back to being just friends when we know what the inside of each other’s mouths taste like? And his tastes very, very, very good. Okay, yes. You can sniff the sweater one more time—just don’t let anyone see you.

...

Simon: I have to figure this shit out with Caroline. She’s so great, and I mean so great…Has there ever been a woman who’s possessed every single quality I’ve been looking for? Except for Natalie Portman, of course. But Caroline? I have to stop watching so much Lifetime—I mean what guy in his own mind even thinks in sentences like: “Has there ever been a woman who’s possessed every single quality I’ve been looking for?” Wait, have I been looking for that woman? No, I haven’t. I don’t have time for that, space for that—and my girls don’t want the picket fence. They keep away the picket fencers. Caroline says she isn’t a picket fencer…Katie found her picket fence, and I’m happy for her. When’s the last time I even talked to Nadia or Lizzie? Maybe they’re not right for me anymore. I don’t want them the way I might want…could want Caroline. You’re such a pu**y, Parker…Jesus, Caroline—she’s a f**king keeper…Wait a minute. What the hell? Are you really entertaining the idea of a…gulp…relationship? And why the f**k did I actually think the word “gulp”? That was a little dramatic, Parker. Come on, think about this…If I recall correctly, you invited her to Spain! Don’t run away from it. Dude, did she just sniff her sweater?

...

Ryan: Mmmm…my girl likes beef jerky—could I be any luckier? She scratches my back and eats beef jerky. I have died and gone somewhere like heaven.

...

Mimi: I can’t believe he ate all my beef jerky. What a jerky. Heehee.

...

Caroline: Question 1 is too hard. I can’t start with that one. I’ll answer them in reverse order. 4. I don’t know if we can be friends, but I really want to be—and not in the fake way. I really like Simon, and even though what happened last night sucked major balls, I think we can figure this out…And I would like to have some of whatever I’m smoking. 3. OF COURSE I AGREED TO GO OUT WITH JAMES BECAUSE OF WHAT HAPPENED WITH SIMON! It’s funny how that shows up in all caps even in my head. 2. If I knew why he turned me down, I’d be a f**king genius. Bad breath? No. Because I was drunk? Possibly…But if it’s because we were drunk that’s the worst timing for chivalry in the history of the universe. He did keep saying “I can’t” and that it was a “mistake.” Now, mistake perhaps. But might have been worth it…Maybe he was just being faithful to his harem? Which in an odd way is quite sweet. I know he really does care about them. Dammit, he’s even great when it comes to them! But I know “I can’t” wasn’t accurate. “Can’t” implies some kind of erectile dysfunction. And I felt that junk on my thigh. Sigh. Sigh for thigh. This sweater is doing things to my head. Sniff…

...

Simon: She just sniffed it again—why does she keep doing that? When I wore it I didn’t notice it smelling like anything other than wool. Girls are weird…weirdly wonderful…Pussy…Caroline’s pu**y…Aaand I’m hard. Why the hell am I even pretending I’m not totally and completely over the moon for this girl? And it has nothing to do with her pu**y…and now I’m harder.

...

Caroline: Stop trying to get out of answering this question. Face it head on! Why did you throw yourself at Simon, forgetting about the friendship and the harem and the O drought and all of the very good reasons you had for staying away from him and his banger voodoo??? Come on, Caroline. Suck it up and say it. What was it he said when you asked him why he kissed you that night you met? “Because I had to.” Jesus, even in my head he sounds amazing saying that…There’s your answer, Caroline: because you had to. And now you have to figure this shit out. I kissed him, and he kissed me because we had to. And the choices we made were ours and ours alone…And the fact that he stopped it and said he couldn’t? Even after all the ridiculous weeks of flirting? After he invited me to Spain? Motherfucking Spain! And I want to go to motherfucking Spa—wait, do I want to go to Spain with him? Argh! Spain Schmain. Anyway, he better have a damn good reason because I am a f**king catch—O or no O—I am a f**king catch. Yeah, you are, Reynolds. Weird how you flip back and forth between first and third person during your inner monologues, though…Thank Christ, the Bay Bridge! Enough introspection…

...

Simon: Shit, the Bay Bridge. We’re almost home, and I have no idea how this is going to go with Caroline. We’ve barely said anything the entire way—although I’m glad to be almost home. I smell like beef jerky, and I need to jerk off like you wouldn’t believe…

...

Mimi: Yay! The Bay Bridge! I wonder if Ryan would mind spending the night at my place!

...

Ryan: Thank f**k, the Bay Bridge. We’re almost home. I wonder if Mimi knows I’m spending the night at her place—and planning on making her call in sick tomorrow? Little girl, the things I plan to do to you…But I’m never eating that much beef jerky again. This has been the quietest road trip ever.

We dropped off the new couple at Mimi’s—not that they particularly noticed—they were in their own bubble gum world—and continued on to our apartments. Though we’d mostly just been lost in our thoughts, the tension had grown during the drive, and it was even more noticeable now that we were alone in the car. Simon and I had always had things to talk about, but now that we had so much to discuss, we were silent. I didn’t want things to be weird, and I knew I’d have to be the one to make sure he knew I was okay now. He’d already done his part to have a mature conversation, and once again my bull-in-a-china-shop delivery seemed to have taken care of that.