"And...here we go!" yelled Harmon. Josh couldn't help but glance in the mirror to see Harmon in his shower stall, curtain open, staring dazedly in the air and stroking his enormous cock.
"Hot damn yes," he continued, "she's on top of me and fuck does she look good. I just flicked off her bra and am squeezing the hell out of those beautiful tits...oh...oh Pratt... oh fuck, yeah. And yeah she is getting so wet it's like fucking embarrassing..."
"Now she's begging me to nail her so I rip her panties off and...oh...oh..oh fuck yeah goddamn, Pratt, now my cock's in her and she has the tightest sweetest little pussy, and..."
"oh god...oh god...oh fucking god...yeah...here it comes...Pratt here it comes..." and Harmon let out a howl.
There was silence for a few seconds, then he yelled.
"GOD DAMN I LOVE JOSH'S GIRLFRIEND!!"
Gonzo stared at the wall of Harmon's shower.
"I hope you're cleaning that up," he said.
—
Every day it was something different.
On Wednesday Josh returned to his dorm room to find a little stick figure scrawled on the dry-erase board on his door. The figure had long hair, a tiny skirt, and huge circles on its chest; FUCK ME JOSH was written underneath. Josh pulled out the glass cleaner, the kind that cleans those dry-erase boards really well, and removed every trace.
Thursday the dry-erase board was covered with the well-endowed little female figures. Actually, so was the whole door...all over. All of them were engaged in some sex act with little male figures with huge cocks. At the top of the door, written with permanent sharpie marker it said JOSH WHY WONT YOU EAT MY CUNT.
It was going to take at least an hour to clean all this off. Josh called Kristin, panicked, trying to intercept her before she got to his room. He bailed on their date, sending her off to the movies without him, then spent three hours cleaning until the door was whiter than it'd probably ever been. He could tell she was upset.
Friday, same thing on his door, but more of it. I WANT TO MEET PRATT'S GIRL was scrawled around the border. The door was also covered in ketchup, now dried into a brown crust. On the doorknob was some other white-ish liquid, partially solidified into gelatinous form. Josh suspected what it might be but didn't want to think about it. After canceling the long-standing dinner plans with Kristin's visiting parents that night—Kristin was furious, but what else could he do—Josh spent another three hours cleaning it all off.
After that, Josh stopped letting Kristin come over to his room entirely.
Instead, they went to hers. Every night, for weeks, watching not just Doctor Who but every other sci-fi series he could think of, then Orson Welles films, then...and it became obvious it was grating on Kristin. Why don't we go to your room? she'd ask nearly every night (going out, she already knew, was out of the question) with never a straight answer from Josh in return.
Kristin thought a lot about Josh's self-deprecating comments, made since the day they'd met, about how boring he was. She'd always laughed and told him that was stupid. But over the past month...he'd turned so quiet. She made the hideous discovery that she really had become bored with him. Crazily bored.
She hated staying in when all of her friends were out. And after being asked out on two separate occasions by guys from class, it was more than she could bear. Kristin met with Josh and quietly told him that maybe it was time to try just being friends.
—
Kristin had a date: a guy named Andrew from her econ class had asked her out. While she was excited about it, something she didn't see coming was the wide-eyed reaction of the other women on her hall, each of whom knew precisely who Andrew was, and were everything from overjoyed to insanely jealous at the news that Kristin had a date with him. She'd never felt part of the popular crowd—at least, it had been several years since she felt that way—and the attention it brought her was unexpectedly nice. Refreshing. Exciting.
Andrew picked her up—god he looked amazing—and for the first hour or so, she felt wildly uncomfortable. What was she doing out with someone that wasn't Josh? Everything was different and out-of-sorts: Andrew's BMW was nicer than Josh's beat-up Focus, which made her feel incredibly guilty. She didn't want things like that to make a difference. But Andrew's car was so nice. He dressed differently than Josh...better. God how could she do this to Josh?
But as they settled into dinner, things got easier. Not all at once...but Andrew was charming and interesting and easy to talk to and she thought about Josh less and less. Not to mention: she was actually
out
, not sitting in a dorm room.
The party he took her to afterwards felt fun. His friends seemed great; she spoke easily with them; they were happy to see her. All attractive; the kind of group she was never a part of in high school, consciously so...but today it felt thrilling to be accepted by them. She felt a part of things, for the first time in a long time.
And Andrew. Being with him felt effortless. Kristin knew she was a little starstruck, but even beyond Andrew's easy charm, great friends, his looks...Kristin felt something. During a lull in conversation with his friends, she looked up at him and flashed a huge smile. She couldn't believe how beautiful his blue eyes were.
It wasn't just his eyes. He was beautiful all over. She hadn't felt this way in a long time. She wanted to rip his clothes off.
—
Coming back from the library, Josh slogged down the hall toward his room.
Josh held his breath as he approached his door. But nothing was splattered on it tonight: no ketchup, no jizz, no caricatures, and nothing destroyed. Actually, he was on a roll: it'd been more than a week since any of that had happened. This is what passed for a good Saturday now.
Josh dumped his books and slouched on his bed. It was two weeks since he and Kristin began their "time out." He'd written two emails to her in that time. The first time, he got a response from her: a very friendly one. Kristin asked about Josh's grandma, and if she were coming home for Thanksgiving. At the time Josh wondered, do people ask about another person's grandmother if they don't care? Was Kristin probing the possibility of spending Thanksgiving with him? In his response he broached the subject in the most delicate way possible, but it had been eight days since then and he hadn't heard back.
A week ago, he'd imagined tonight would be the night he'd write Kristin again, asking if maybe he could drop by:
Game of Thrones
was premiering. Or maybe they could even try going out somewhere. But now that tonight had arrived, sending the email didn't feel right. But soon. Maybe Wednesday.
He held the copy of
Gödel Escher Bach
she'd bought him. He read the love note she'd written on the inside cover. In here—in this book—she wasn't bored with him.
Then he spent a wonderful two minutes pretending he was watching her undress.
He wandered down the hall to brush his teeth, passing Harmon's room. Another tie on Harmon's door. Good fucking god.
—
Behind that very door—the door with the distinctive red-and-blue tie hanging from its knob—Kristin was getting a tour of Andrew Harmon's music collection. (Yes,
that
Harmon, the frat-boy Harmon, the one who'd spent the past month torturing Josh.)
It seemed so bizarre to Kristin now, how she'd spent the past semester making fun of the guy who lived in this room with its perpetual tie on the door—the "hyper fratboy", the "player" with the freshman girls cycling through—and all that time it was Andrew, the charming guy who'd taken her on the best date she could remember. She was hoping it wasn't going to end yet.
Josh was just down the hall, so close by. Kristin was careful to make sure Josh hadn't seen her sneak into Andrew's room. Not because she was embarrassed to be here—quite the opposite—but she knew he wouldn't understand.
She wondered if she should feel more guilty than she did. But this wasn't about Andrew's car, or his looks. Josh had wanted to hide her; Andrew wanted to show her off. She couldn't wait to show Andrew how much she appreciated that.
Kristin's head was buzzing; she hadn't felt like this in a very long time. She thought about jealous Anna on her hall and how Anna had said she'd give anything for five minutes alone with Andrew. In fact, all the girls wanted Andrew. Kristin wasn't going to let anything mess this up.
Josh briefly flashed through Kristin's mind again while Harmon started to gently coax her sweater off, thirty seconds into their hasty make-out session. Why didn't Josh realize that the world was a friendly, fun place, filled with great prople, instead of something to be scared of? But that wasn't her problem anymore.
She was so preoccupied with kissing Harmon she didn't even notice him reaching over and starting the camera on his cell phone, recording a video that maybe he'd show to Pratt some day when he felt like torturing him.
Getting her top off was way easier than Harmon had ever imagined. In fact her bra came off so quickly he heard a little gasp. (He could get a bra off quicker than than anyone, women included.)
Good god it was fun playing with those tits. Harmon had spent weeks thinking about them, and they didn't disappont. It was especially fun running his hands over them in front of the camera...you know, for Pratt's benefit. "So nice..." mouthed Harmon silently to his phone, while Kristin, blissed-out and dreamy-eyed, looked as if she were experiencing the best moment of her life.
