It Was Just Like Old Times.
Bonnie had left Mount Union – and me – behind. She had a new group of friends, plenty of reasons and places to party, and she’d spent the school year at University of Akron.
During summer, I compelled her to come and visit me. I promised unlimited alcohol if she’d visit for a weekend. So she did.
I was thrilled to see her, instantly reconnecting at a deep level that was impossible for me to have with anyone else. No one else felt like I did, saw the world like I did, was willing to do what I did.
No one else drank like I did. Bonnie and I were soulmates.
We went to see Larry’s band play on Friday, like I always did. She met Ronnie, who was intrigued to find another woman who was open and loud about her opinions and ideas. Ronnie provided some cocaine, which kept the conversation flowing, and we all kept drinking.
Bonnie slept on the bare mattress in the attic room. Midway through sleeping – probably around noon – I left Larry’s bed and curled up next to her. We had no blankets or sheets.
Larry had gone out, which was his custom during daylight hours, and was nowhere to be found when I headed upstairs. When he came home, he found us and woke us up with a pizza and a 12-pack of Miller Lite, properly chilled.
I grabbed the boombox and blasted music so we had to yell to hear one another in the tiny room. It was like being in college again: Bonnie and me, plenty of beer, feeling freer than ever.
It was just like old times.
Unfortunately for both of us, Larry inserted himself into the mix. He kept showing up, a lead weight pulling down two balloons.
I knew I owed him my life – he’d bought the beer after all – and Bonnie acquiesced. So when Larry suggested we all have a threesome, and we were plenty enough drunk to agree, Bonnie and I nonchalantly gave it a try.
Larry kissed me, then he kissed her. He fondled me, then he fondled her. I thought: This is going to be fine, right? But as this “threesome” continued, I felt repulsed. I realized quite suddenly that this was not okay with me; I did not want the two of them to be together. My insecurities did not allow me to just sit back and watch – even for one moment – as the two of them started moving together.
I stood up and screamed: “NO NO NO NO! FUCKING STOP! I’M NOT FUCKING DOING THIS!”
Larry startled. Bonnie laughed. They stopped.
We all stopped.
Bonnie reached out, naked, and pulled me down next to her on the bed. “It’s okay,” she said. “I fucking love you! We don’t have to do this!”
Realizing it was his only play Larry tried to hug us both, although he truly didn’t fit into the equation no matter what we’d just been doing.
“Right,” he said. Larry kissed my forehead, which both comforted and nauseated me.
“I just wanted to drink beer and listen to music.”
This was true for … everything. Always. I just wanted to drink beer and listen to music. Everything else I did was rubbish.
I looked at Larry. “Can you just get us some more beers?”
“Sure, Baby!” Larry gallumphed down the stairs.
I lit a cigarette. Bonnie took it.
I lit another one.
For the rest of the night, Bonnie and I drank beer and listened to music. Larry stayed at a distance, allowing us to be happy again.
