"What are we doing tonight?"

He looks up lazily at me. "I dunno; what do you wanna do?"

"I dunno."

"You hungry?"

"Just ate." I scratch my thigh.

"Movie?"

"There's nothin' out."

"How do you know that?"

I shrug in response. "Newspaper?"

"Well; we could go see if there's a concert in the city."

"My head hurts."

He rolls his eyes. "Well, what do you wanna do?"

I shrug again. "We could have sex."

Silence rolls in, heavy and thick and pulsing.

"What?" he asks uncertainly.

"Just a thought."

He's not sure if he wants to ask, but he does. "Why?"

"I dunno."

"Well let's start somewhere else: what DO you know?"

I roll my head along the back of the couch, staring away from him. "I dunno."

"Why'd you say that?"

"Say what?"

"You know what!"

"No, I don't."

"Don't make me say it again."

My eye twitches. "What? Like its dirty or something?"

He pauses, as though that were the dumbest thing I could ever ask. "Yes!"

"Sorry."

More silence.

"So," he tries again. "Are we doing something tonight or not?"

"My idea didn't fly, so I guess not."

He blinks. "You were serious?"

I shrug.

"What the fuck Jay, what is going on?"

"I dunno."

"Cut the shit!"

"What shit?"

"You're an asshole."

"I'm not too fond of you either, right now."

"You're serious about this!" he exclaims, staring at me with wide eyes.

"Serious about what?"

"STOP IT!"

"Sorry."

He fumes for a moment, but I think it's more because he's not getting straight answers than anything else. I slide lower into the couch cushions, and pick at the fabric of the couch.

"Why did you say that?" he asks.

I sigh. "It seemed like the right thing to do at the moment."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to have sex with you."

He flinches, and is silent for a moment. "But now you don't?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because you hate me."

"Oh," he nods, and settles back into the other end of the couch. Then, "I don't hate you."

"Oh."

Upon consulting a dictionary, one might discover a photo of this moment under the word 'awkward.'

"Do you care?"

I squint. "Care about what?"

"That I don't hate you?"

"Oh," I roll my eyes. "Yeah. Worlds."

"What the fuck?"

"What? There ain't no fuckin' here."

"Shut up. How could you spring this on me like this right now? You're an asshole."

"I'm sorry," I say, and look at him coldly. "Were you busy right now? I could come back if this is inconvenient. Just pretend it didn't happen, and I'll try again tomorrow night."

"You know what I mean."

"No, I really don't."

"We're not really in a position for ... something like that."

His logic is lost. "I wasn't aware that we were in an allotted position."

"I thought friends was a position. You're talking about being in another one entirely."

I'm still trying to follow him, and why any of this matters. "I wasn't aware that we weren't allowed to cross over."

"What are you talking about, you weren't aware?" he nearly shouts. "Friends don't have sex."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Stop it, Jay."

"Stop what?"

"Apologizing!" he barks.

"Well you're really pissed off now; I feel bad for making you angry."

"I'M NOT ANGRY!"

I stare at him. "Obviously."

He takes a breath and tries to calm down, knowing that I'm right. He finds the gall to ask more questions. "How long has this been going on?"

"How long has what been going on?"

"Will you answer my fucking question for once, Jason?"

"Yes."

He stares at me. "Yes what?"

"Yes, I'll answer your question."

I look at him, and I can see that it's taking all of his power not to scream. "Okay. You'll answer me?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Can I ask it now, and have you answer me?"

"Yes," I repeat.

"How long have you thought like that about me?"

"Why does that matter?"

"YOU SAID YOU WERE GOING TO ANSWER MY QUESTION."

I sigh; he's right. "Not too long," I tell him.

"What's not too long?"

I calculate the number of years between now and our freshman year of college.

"'Bout ... ten-ish; maybe only nine."

His eyes jump. "Ten years?! Ten years is not a long time?"

I shrug. "I think, in the grand scheme of things, it's not really that long at all."

"It's a fucking lifetime," he glares.

"Oh. Okay."

This brings us to silence again.

He's still confused, and can't hold it in for long. "Why does it have to be me? Why don't you want to have sex with someone else? You're not supposed to want to do your friends."

I shrug. "I didn't know that there were rules. I just always wanted you to be the first."

He blinks. "You're a virgin?"

"Yeah," I reply slowly. Maybe I shouldn't have said that.

"But you've ... you've been with a lot of other people."

"I know."

"And you've never ... been with them?"

"Nope."

"You're twenty-seven years old, Jay."

"I know."

He seems confused. "So ... why not?"

"Why not what?"

"Why didn't you get with them?"

I start to get annoyed with his lack of deductive knowledge. "I just fucking told you why not. Dumbass. Haven't you ever heard of saving yourself?"

"Oh."

A beat of silence passes, and it burns my skin.

"You were waiting for me?"

"I guess," I agree.

"And what if it never happened?"

"Then I guess I'll die a pretty fucking lonely guy."

He seems to be lost in this head at this, looking for an unlocked door and jiggling ever knob on the way by. Finally his eyes fall on me again, and they're creepy, glowing.

"So, um," he says slowly. "Are we not doing anything tonight?"

I consider, and he's watching me expectantly. I speak softly. "We could have sex."

He hesitates, and then gives a small smile. "Okay."