potatoes, while I liked
eating chicken and broccoli. He liked lifting weights at the gym,
while I preferred taking a spin class. He didn’t like the last two
seasons of “Arrested Development ” , while I found those to be the best
two seasons ever. I still thought we really hit it off.
Of course I still had Ben
in the back of my mind. How could I possibly forget him storming
away from the table like that? But last night, after some thinking
under the starry sky, I was able to put his behavior into
perspective. It was clear he was tired. We travelled five hours by
plane, ate a whack load of food and consumed an absurd amount of
alcohol. I am actually surprised all of us didn’t do the same as he
did and head back to our villas as soon as we got the chance.
Besides, it would be next to impossible to believe the way he acted
had absolutely anything to do with us . Therefore, it didn’t take long
for me to decide that Ben and I desperately had to get our
friendship back on track for a few reasons:
1. Losing him as a friend would be
like losing an appendage.
2. I need to enjoy this vacation
(because I rarely ever get the time to have one).
3. If Steven and I are to ever
progress, I need to smooth out this sex disaster with Ben before it
takes a turn for the worst.
I toss my pillow from my head and sit
up. I see Michelle passed out on the floor fast asleep. I stumble
across the smooth marble tiles and gently nudge her to wake up. She
chokes back the drool trickling down the side of her mouth, and
wipes it away with the back of her hand.
She sits up disoriented and squinty,
and raises her hand up over her eyes, “What am I doing on the
floor?”
“ I don’t know” I groan and
pull her up to her feet.
She moans and pushes me away, then
staggers over to the bed. She flops down beside Stephanie, whose
head is pressed into a pillow and grumbles, “Honestly Megan, you
are the worst morning person ever.” Then she tries to swat me away
with her hand.
I secretly laugh to myself and think
back to when Michelle, Stephanie, Jessica and I lived together. It
drove them crazy that I would bounce around the apartment everyday
at six in the morning. I would whip up scrambled eggs, make coffee,
read the daily newspaper, and even work out to the latest Jillian
Michaels DVD.
Michelle starts to kick me with the
back of her legs, but I refuse to let them sleep through our whole
entire vacation. I rip the pillow out from under Michelle’s head,
and playfully swat at her. She tosses her arm’s up and screams at
me to stop being so annoying. Our altercation startles Stephanie
who opens her eyes, kicks off the blankets and whips a pillow at my
face. I dodge it, and watch it smack against the wall. I laugh and
insist the longer we laze around the room, the less likely we are
to get a good lounging spot by the pool.
Michelle rolls her eyes and gives me a
dismissive wave, but Stephanie groans, trudges out of bed and says,
“I am only getting up if we head down to the buffet first. I’m
starving.”
Twenty minutes later, the three of us
are eating our breakfast. Michelle forces her elbows on the table
and presses her fists on either side of her head. Her black
oversized sunglasses hide her puffy bloodshot eyes, and her hair is
tossed in a sloppy bun. She downs two coffees and occasionally
pokes at her toast. Stephanie on the other hand is more energetic,
and pounds back a bowl of cereal and a few strips of bacon. She
chats with me about her grand plans to wear her bandeau bikini top
(so she can get a kick ass tan without the lines), and then hopes
to pass out on a lounge chair by the pool. I tell her that sounds
like a pretty good plan and glance down at my own pasty white skin.
I polish off my eggs, bacon and toast and lean back in my chair to
take an indulgent sip of my delicious coffee.
I startle when I see Steven and his
family walk into the breakfast buffet. I smile at him and he gives
me a polite wave then proceeds to pull out
eating chicken and broccoli. He liked lifting weights at the gym,
while I preferred taking a spin class. He didn’t like the last two
seasons of “Arrested Development ” , while I found those to be the best
two seasons ever. I still thought we really hit it off.
Of course I still had Ben
in the back of my mind. How could I possibly forget him storming
away from the table like that? But last night, after some thinking
under the starry sky, I was able to put his behavior into
perspective. It was clear he was tired. We travelled five hours by
plane, ate a whack load of food and consumed an absurd amount of
alcohol. I am actually surprised all of us didn’t do the same as he
did and head back to our villas as soon as we got the chance.
Besides, it would be next to impossible to believe the way he acted
had absolutely anything to do with us . Therefore, it didn’t take long
for me to decide that Ben and I desperately had to get our
friendship back on track for a few reasons:
1. Losing him as a friend would be
like losing an appendage.
2. I need to enjoy this vacation
(because I rarely ever get the time to have one).
3. If Steven and I are to ever
progress, I need to smooth out this sex disaster with Ben before it
takes a turn for the worst.
I toss my pillow from my head and sit
up. I see Michelle passed out on the floor fast asleep. I stumble
across the smooth marble tiles and gently nudge her to wake up. She
chokes back the drool trickling down the side of her mouth, and
wipes it away with the back of her hand.
She sits up disoriented and squinty,
and raises her hand up over her eyes, “What am I doing on the
floor?”
“ I don’t know” I groan and
pull her up to her feet.
She moans and pushes me away, then
staggers over to the bed. She flops down beside Stephanie, whose
head is pressed into a pillow and grumbles, “Honestly Megan, you
are the worst morning person ever.” Then she tries to swat me away
with her hand.
I secretly laugh to myself and think
back to when Michelle, Stephanie, Jessica and I lived together. It
drove them crazy that I would bounce around the apartment everyday
at six in the morning. I would whip up scrambled eggs, make coffee,
read the daily newspaper, and even work out to the latest Jillian
Michaels DVD.
Michelle starts to kick me with the
back of her legs, but I refuse to let them sleep through our whole
entire vacation. I rip the pillow out from under Michelle’s head,
and playfully swat at her. She tosses her arm’s up and screams at
me to stop being so annoying. Our altercation startles Stephanie
who opens her eyes, kicks off the blankets and whips a pillow at my
face. I dodge it, and watch it smack against the wall. I laugh and
insist the longer we laze around the room, the less likely we are
to get a good lounging spot by the pool.
Michelle rolls her eyes and gives me a
dismissive wave, but Stephanie groans, trudges out of bed and says,
“I am only getting up if we head down to the buffet first. I’m
starving.”
Twenty minutes later, the three of us
are eating our breakfast. Michelle forces her elbows on the table
and presses her fists on either side of her head. Her black
oversized sunglasses hide her puffy bloodshot eyes, and her hair is
tossed in a sloppy bun. She downs two coffees and occasionally
pokes at her toast. Stephanie on the other hand is more energetic,
and pounds back a bowl of cereal and a few strips of bacon. She
chats with me about her grand plans to wear her bandeau bikini top
(so she can get a kick ass tan without the lines), and then hopes
to pass out on a lounge chair by the pool. I tell her that sounds
like a pretty good plan and glance down at my own pasty white skin.
I polish off my eggs, bacon and toast and lean back in my chair to
take an indulgent sip of my delicious coffee.
I startle when I see Steven and his
family walk into the breakfast buffet. I smile at him and he gives
me a polite wave then proceeds to pull out
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