How to Cheat and Not Feel Bad About It
By Glen Binger, Nov 21, 2008

I. Instigation

Dave finished the blunt, threw it in the lighted pool behind us and then slapped me across the face. Brian was sitting across from us blankly staring into the fire pit; his mouth hung open and a bit of drool fell off his bottom lip, landing in the thick of his beard.

“What the fuck, man?”

Dave sat back in the lounge chair. “You needed it, trust me.”

Lazy, I sat back too, forgetting why I was angry.

“All you ever do anymore is get owned,” he laughed.

“Oh, suck my balls, Dave.”

“No, seriously. If she told you to piss sitting down you would.”

“Yeah, okay,” I said taking out my cell phone to hide any expression that would have given that lie away.

“There you go again—text sexin’ like a little bitch.” He kicked a piece of wood. “Dude you need to grow a pair of balls.”

“Fuck you, dude.”

“No, seriously. Like eat some horse sperm or something,” he laughed, “you need some testosterone, you bitch. Isn’t she at some club tonight, anyway?”

I looked at Brian. His eyes were like two slits in a piece of red construction paper.

“Yeah. And?”

“So fucking turn off your phone or something! She isn’t going to answer you. Fuck, she isn’t even going to text you until she wants something.”

He was right. And I was whipped. I turned back to him.

“Shit man,” he continued, “we should be out getting some vagina or something.”

He kicked another piece of burning wood.

“Hell, just look at Brian. He’s dying over there.” He pointed across the pit.

Brian’s eyes were now completely shut, his beard still damp with saliva, face glowing from the dying flames in front of us.

“Huh,” he mumbled, trying to open his eyes.

“Nevermind, Brian,” Dave jumped in again. “Look. Kevin. The point is we need to get you off the leash and out into the wild again. We could be getting some serious ass right now.” He looked over at Brian and thought for a moment. “Well...maybe just you and me.”

We laughed and poked the fire with our sneakers one last time. Brian tried to readjust himself in the plastic lawn chair and fell over into the grass face first. He lay still for a few minutes, breathing into the dirt like some sort of slug then finally rolled onto his back.

“You know guys,” he said, “I used to have a serious problem when I was younger.”

He slowly raised his arms and put his hands behind his head in the dirt. Dave and I just looked at each other through the corners of our eyes, smiled and turned towards Brian.

“I used to smell girls hair,” he said.

“What?!” Dave and I laughed.

“Like in the hallway between classes and stuff.”

I didn’t know what to say and I’m pretty sure my mouth was hanging open like a broken hatch.

Dave spoke up, “What the shit?”

I laughed again. I couldn’t stop.

“I don’t know!” Brian’s voice became defensive. “I couldn’t help it. I was like fourteen!”

“That’s messed up,” Dave blurted.

“It turned me on. What do you want from me?!”

“Did you ever get caught?”

I couldn’t feel my abdomen. My stomach was hurting so bad I couldn’t speak; Dave was questioning Brian for the both of us.

“Once,” he grunted, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Dave sat up straight. “Oh no, no, no, no. I want to hear this.”

“No. Forget I said anything,” Brian mumbled. “Give me my lighter. I’m smokin’ another bowl.”

Brian sat up and Dave passed him the lighter.

“Brian,” I finally jumped in, “you’re already high as shit.”

“Fuck you, bitch.” He snapped his head towards me. “Go ask Steph if you can piss standing up.”

He stood up, got back in his chair and took a zip-lock bag of weed out of his pocket. Dave started hysterically laughing.

“Fuck you.” I turned to Dave. “Fuck this. You wanna call some girls over? Since you’re the ladies man and all that?”

“Yeah,” his laughing slowed to a chuckle, “hold on.” He took his phone out of his pocket and started scrolling through his list of contacts.

II. Get-Together

Brian took his shirt off and his tan hairy belly hung over the waistband of his boxers. He went to run and jump into the pool but instead sort of tripped and just sort of awkwardly rolled in, splashing Dave, Carla and Eileen, who were standing in the shallow end. I was in the hammock with Chelsea on the other side of the pool, next to the woods that bordered the yard. There were no lights. No moon. We were in the dark. The only thing that separated us from the trees was a slim black aluminum fence.

“It’s a nice night,” she said awkwardly.

We had all just met. The girls and us, I mean. They were Dave’s friends from the summer course he was enrolled in.

“Yeah,” I agreed not really sure what else to say. “It’s really dark.”

She laughed, “Yeah.”

I put my arm around her as smoothly as I possibly could. We had all been drinking for the past hour so and I didn’t think the girls knew that us guys were still somewhat stoned.

“Well, what’s this all about?” She smiled.

“Nothing. You looked cold.” I smiled back.

“Burrrrr.” She laughed.

And just like that I found myself leaning in to kiss her. It was a little awkward but we both just sort of ignored it. We were just having some fun. Then, right before our lips made juicy contact, I felt the ground beneath us rattle and I pulled away just in time. Dave, Brian, Carla, and Eileen came running up and jumped onto the hammock, bouncing Chelsea and I straight up off the netting like kids on a trampoline. We all crashed down like ragdolls, snapping the ropes sustaining us between the trees.

“Ahh, good one guys.” I felt my cheeks blush. I didn’t think they could tell.

We all got up off the damp ground and slowly walked over to the heated pool. Chelsea and I still had yet to strip down to our underwear and go swimming. So being the douchebag I was, I pointed to the end of the concrete next to the water’s edge and asked her, “What’s that?” As she bent down to look closer, I walked up behind her and pushed my hip into her magnificent ass. She slow-motion flopped into the pool, squeaking the whole way down. When her head popped up from beneath the lighted water she looked back up at me smiling, definitely the reaction I was not expecting.

“Kevin! You asshole,” she said as flirty as possible after spitting water from her mouth. “You’re lucky I put my phone on the table before.”

I laughed and smiled as I reached down to help her out of the pool. I was naïve. By the time I had realized my error it was too late.

“Big mistake, buddy,” she said as her slippery wet hands squeezed mine and yanked me into the pool over her.

I came up, exaggeratedly gasped for air because I was still drunk and shook the water from my eyes. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone.

“Now, who’s the asshole,” I said, smiling.

I put it on the concrete behind her head (still not really sure why I wasn’t flipping out) and smoothly left my arm around her shoulders. Dave, Brian, Eileen and Carla were playing sharks and minnows behind us in the shallow end. I brought my other arm up behind Chelsea’s head and pulled myself closer to her. The light from below us reflected off the bottom of her face making her look a bit like Natalie Portman but with bigger breasts. The beads of water on her face glistened like tiny stars freckled across her skin. She smiled at me and ignored my comment.

“I’m still cold, you know,” she said, faking a shiver.

“The pools heated.” I laughed.

She paused to make sure I was joking then laughed back. I moved my face closer towards hers.

“It’s okay. I’ll keep you warm.”

I felt the grin between my ears widen.

“Oh will you?”

She smiled wider.

“Yeah. Two bodies are better than one. It’s science,” I blurted out like an ass.

Our noses were touching now. Dave and them were still goofing around at the other end of the pool.

“I think that’d work,” she nodded.

I couldn’t see anything but her eyes and the reflection of the blue light still coming from below us as we floated up against the wall of the pool.

“Okay, good,” I said drunkenly trying to delay kissing her so she would only want it more.

We were in our own world up against that blue lining of the pool. The cool summer air gave goose-bumps to exposed skin and the nightlife in the woods behind the house made it feel like a camping trip. The fire pit smoldered in half lit embers while we ignored it, enjoying the water. Together our noses polished the beads of water between us, charging every single bit of attraction we had for each other. And so I made the move. I leaned in and connected the desire between our lips.

She pulled my body up against hers and squeezed. I squeezed back and tried to slip the tip of my tongue between one of the kisses. But she took that and used her tongue as a plow, shoving it into my mouth.

So we sat there in the warm water with nothing but our heads exposed to the air, making out. Two faces hovering above the liquid connected at the mouth. Being in the pool made it difficult, but we were there for a solid ten minutes.

III. Hook-Up

As she led the way into the house holding my hand, pulling me along, I could hear Dave and them, still in the water, snickering behind us.

“Tell her we said hi,” Dave yelled as I closed the door behind us.

I could picture him still in the shallow end of the pool humping the helpless water between his legs.

I turned back to Chelsea, “Sorry bout those guys. They’re still pretty hammered.”

“No worries.” She smiled.

There was an awkward silence.

“So,” she began, still leading the way.

“So let me give you the grand tour,” I jumped in.

I showed her the living room, the kitchen, Dave’s room and Brian’s room. I saved mine for last.

“Those were cool...but what about your room?” She was grinning.

“Oh, it’s right over here.” I pointed through the doorway to my left.

The moment I turned back to her she grabbed my wet shirt and pulled me into my room, slamming the door behind her.

“Well what’s this all about?” I asked as I searched for her silhouette against the wall.

The light from the pool was shimmering through the blinds.

“Oh, nothing,” she said, throwing me onto the bed.

She climbed on top of me, sat straight up and then put her still sopping hair in a pony tail. I slipped my hands under her shirt then under her striped bikini top and ran my palm down along the smooth skin of her stomach. She smiled, then seductively pulled her top off, leaned down to my face and started kissing my neck.

IV. Morning After

I woke up next to a towel and a black and yellow bathing suit top spread out at the foot of my bed. My brown Billabong hoodie was missing along with the gym shorts I had rested on the back of my desk chair.

“Ugh, my forehead,” I grunted into my pillow.

I turned over and sat up. Dave was standing in my doorway.

“Nice dude.”


“She was hot.” He smiled. “At least a seven.”

“Oh.” I glanced at my phone, still off.

“You think Steph is pissed that we haven’t spoke all night?”

“Are you kidding?! Kev, man, you gotta forget that bitch.” He shook his head. “Turn on your phone. Tell me how many missed calls or texts you have.”

I flipped open my phone and turned it on.

“None.” I sighed.

“You see what I’m saying? She only uses you when she needs you.”

I looked at the floor.

“Fuck I wouldn’t be surprised if she banged some dude last night.”

“Hey! Watch it,” I said.

“Sorry. Look, all I’m sayin’ dude,” he paused, “is at least you had fun last night. And if you got rid of her stank ass you’d be havin’ a hell of a lot more.”

By now I had stood up and put on some board shorts. “Yeah, I guess.” I was next to my desk stretching my arms.

I thought for a moment that maybe I was letting Dave define who I was. But then I snapped out of it. He was right. I needed a change.

“Yeah...yeah, I’ll end it after breakfast.” I threw my phone onto my bed.

“There you go. Now let’s go smoke a bowl and figure out what we’re doing for breakfast.”

“Alright,” I nodded my head. I followed Dave into the kitchen. “Do you have Chelsea’s number?”

“Yeah, why?” He was smiling.

“She stole my hoodie.”

Glen Binger is the fiction/nonfiction editor of New Jersey-based lit zine, Lo-Fidelity. He hates writing bios because he never knows what to say about himself. Check out his blog at glenbinger.blogspot.com.