"Sex, sex, sex; that's all he can think about."
Janine Tyler stuffed another French fry into her mouth and washed it down with raspberry lemonade. The petite brown-haired girl sitting next to her watched her with rapt silence as her friend continued to rant about her recently ex-boyfriend. Like a good friend, Amanda would only sit and nod her head, occasionally interjecting with "Oh my God", "Oh no", or something along those lines that conveyed dismay and disbelief.
The two girls were sophomores at Northwestern, having met for the first time one year ago. Randomly paired together as roommates, they couldn't be more opposite. Janine was a curvy blonde from Florida who had lived a life of popularity; Amanda was essentially a 40 year old woman trapped in a 19 year old's body from Illinois, who preferred wine to beer, music that was made decades before she was born, and reading novels that kids her age usually had no interest in.
But, for some reason, the two were really good friends. Their freshman year brought them together in ways they couldn't foresee. Amanda taught Janine how to change a car battery and persuaded her to join the intramural Krav Maga class they had on campus. Janine reciprocated by inviting Amanda out to some of the hottest parties on campus and teaching her how to talk to guys. The arrangement worked out pretty well, especially when Janine effortlessly beat up some jerk senior who tried to force his hands under her clothes, and Amanda getting some actual boyfriends.
As Janine continued to drone on about her woes, Amanda couldn't help but wonder how exactly she landed a friend like her. Most of Janine's friends only knew her as "Janine's roommate", even though they weren't living in the same dorm room anymore. Any time a hot boy had showed up at their dorm last year, Amanda automatically knew that it was one of Janine's visitors.
Even though they were good friends, Amanda would have killed to be Janine. Not only was she rich and popular, she was beautiful. Lustrous golden hair, perfect skin, a pert backside, and wobbling double-D breasts that could turn even a gay man's head. She'd spent her childhood as a beauty pageant queen, and still pulled the occasional modeling gig. Even now, Janine was scarfing down her bacon cheeseburger and large fries, but anyone who knew her knew that the calories wouldn't show, it simply must have gone straight to her boobs. She was a vision of perfection.
As Amanda snapped out of her trance of envy to continue to listen to Janine, the source of her friend's woes popped into her mind: Michael Clemons. A slim, well-muscled male with a boyish face that was lightly covered with stubble, he had seemed like just the right guy to date Janine. Personally, Amanda had a hard time keeping track of Janine's string of Ken-doll looking ex-boyfriends, but what Janine was saying about him was definitely hard to forget.
"We were barely 5 minutes inside the pool before he's got his hand in my bikini bottom, trying to get a finger into my whatnot," Janine said. "I slapped the shit out of him and walked home."
"He's that bad?" Amanda asked in genuine shock.
"I know! I'm still trying to get over it myself. I'll admit it, he was great in the sack those three months we dated, but it seemed like he got more perverted as time went on. He even..." Janine leaned across the table and lowered her voice. "He even tried to go in through the back door!"
"NO!"
"Yes!" Janine affirmed. "I'm sorry to talk your ear off. Thanks for listening to me bitch about my ex."
"Forget about it," Amanda said. "I know you would do the same for me."
The girls decided to drown their sorrows in some bowls of brownies and ice cream before departing the restaurant, spending the rest of their time there talking about mutual friends and classes. When they were done, the two friends went their separate ways.
A ring of the doorbell brought Michael out of his daze; for the past hour, he had been poring over his textbooks, determined to dedicate his weekend to staying ahead of his classes. At 20 years of age and already in his junior year of college, he was maintaining a great GPA. Usually, at 8 PM on a Friday night, he was partying with his friends, working out at the gym, or masturbating.
In all honesty, the studying was an effort to keep from doing the third thing. Activity one would give him a 50/50 chance of actually getting laid, but that would involve a lot of small talk, and he wasn't in the mood to try and make small talk with some girl for the minute possibility of getting some pussy. Activity two would just get him all hot and sweaty, plus all those chicks at the gym bending over, getting sweaty and grunting would get him hot.
So, tonight was homework night. Actually, it had been going very well; he had finished two-thirds of his Macroeconomics term paper, and was so immersed in the reading material that he forgot all about his recent break-up with Janine Tyler. He had begun to think that maybe she was right, maybe sex all the time would lead to nothing but trouble.
Reaching the front door, he peered into the peephole and recognized the visitor in seconds. Pulling his head away, he unlocked and opened the door.
"Amanda?" He said with a puzzled smile. "What are you doing here?"
"You need to let me in," she said. Not waiting for an invitation, she strode into the house and closed the door behind her.
"Ummm...Why?"
