Single Player: Humor, Love, Breast Cancer and a Gaming Girl... by Jamie Nicole

relationship between just the two of you (that part’s going to be tricky for me unless you count my seeing Mrnotsosmall, then I should be good to go). And, last but not least, the golden rule that’s never to be broken in this sort of arrangement… Number four: Do NOT under any circumstances tell her/him that you are beginning to have feelings for them if your goal is to keep this friendship intact and ongoing.  This phrase, these feelings, will be a time bomb for the beneficial outcome of your special “alliance” and mark my words, WILL DESTROY IT like the nuke that it is. Do not enter into this contract if you think there is any chance of this happening for either one of you. It will end B…A…D...L...Y. Badly. Twitter would read: #Don’tdo#4, #feelingsRbad, #FWBholdthefeelings.
    As I finish reading the article I realize that never in my life have I been more certain of wanting something the way that I want this. When this thought hits its intended target between my eyes I fall over into a stunned, silent, shock. I want to sleep with Ashton. Not friendship sleep.  Not spooning sleep. Not you-make-me-feel safe and not alone sleep. I want his SEX! Just thinking this in my head feels wrong because it’s him but it also feels so, so right because it’s him. I mean, come on. Those rules are the description of our relationship. This will be a no brainer for the both of us and then I can have the sex! (I heave a heavy sigh just thinking about ‘the sex’. I’m positive it’s something I’ve missed out on that’s sure to make me feel alive and human and in a non-electronic, non-pretending sort of way at that).
    Tonight when that big bag of steaming hotness comes over, I’m going to lay out the plan for him. Just put it out there. Matter of fact, to help things along I’ll make out a list of the rules and print us each out a copy highlighting the golden one at the bottom with the biggest, brightest, yellowist highlighter I have (they say size matters, but I wouldn’t know. Seems logical, though). No need for any more land mines in my life, I’m all set in that department. This is going to be fantastic. The shock I’m going to see on his face alone is almost more than I can bare. I can’t wait to tell him what I’ve decided! EEK! Ashton loves sex so this is totally a win-win for each of us because well, again, he loves having the sex and I’d like to have a bunch of the lovely sex with him! And this right here, my friends, is why Playboy is so awesome. I can’t even begin to imagine how this could go wrong. It’s fail proof! 
    So, for now, I just have to sit here and wait patiently for him to show.
    One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand…
                 

five
     
    The breast cancer is back, and man did it show up at worst possible time. Now Ashton’s just going to have to wait for all the sex he doesn’t know that we’re going to have.
    Okay, I don’t really have breast cancer. Well, at least not at the current moment. I don’t today and I never really have. Here’s the thing. When my Dad, Cal, first got The Breast Cancer I was at the ripe old prepubescent age of eleven. I had no information as of yet about my young and changing body other than I was waiting to get my boobs.  My father and I hadn’t yet had “the talk” and we hadn’t had it at school yet either. That talk was saved for the middle of our fifth grade year when the adults felt it was a more appropriate time for us to receive the information about what was going to start happening to our developing young bodies. Anyway, unfortunately for my father and I, the cancer showed up right before school started in August, before any of these “talks” had the opportunity to happen.
    Here’s how things went down. I was coming out of my room one day and overheard my dad talking to my Aunt Joanie about his “condition”, to which I was previously informed very little about. What he was telling her sounded