Can't Go Home (Oasis Waterfall) Read Online Free PDF Page B

Bethel.”
    “Fuck me now! Are you serious? Why didn’t you do him on the hood of your car as soon as you saw him?” she squeals, a little louder than necessary. Heads whip around over to us, gawking at her profanity. We slink down and lean in a little closer.
    “I know! That’s what I’m saying. This is … this is … unchartered territory for me,” I admit, taking out my credit card to finally pay the server who’s been circling us and eyeing my check booklet.
    “Syd, I’ve never scored this high before. But believe me, I want to get in this game.” Her face lights up. She’s always urging me to meet guys and hook up.
    Analyzing it more, I say, “I want to win the whole dang tournament, take home the championship trophy … four years in a row. Retire the jersey and call the game.”
    “Not that you put any thought into it,” Syd laughs, switching my card out for hers. “It’s only fair; I made you eat alone.” Okay, maybe she isn’t the biggest bitch ever.
    “Thanks,” I say. “Yeah, I sure haven’t thought about it at all.

 
     
    As I get out of the shower, Rory tosses me a towel. I wrap it around me quickly, knowing what’s coming.
    “I don’t fucking get it. I work out all the damn time and can’t bulk up. You carry some old bitch’s groceries, and you look bigger the next day,” Rory whines.
    I don’t know what his deal is. Rory’s ripped; he’s just not huge. Neither am I. And girls always flock to him, especially older women. Rory loves cougars; that’s his thing. “Hurry up too, we gotta get going.”
    “You need more protein, and more reps,” I offer.
    For the past year, Rory and I’ve been working out at his hotel’s gym right before lunch hour. Vacationers tend to exercise in the early morning hours before they hit the beach or the Market. Some people work out late in the evening, right before dinner. Other than that, the fitness room is a ghost town. Typically, we have the room to ourselves, avoiding the questions and complaints of all the hotel guests.
    “I can’t do any more reps without my arms falling off. I couldn’t even raise my hands to jack off yesterday,” he jokes.
    “Dude, too much information,” I say, pulling a shirt over my head. “Your masturbatory practices are not of any interest to me. Not now. Not tomorrow. Not ever.”
    Changing the subject, “Alright, so what’re you gonna do? Ya gonna see her again?” he questions.
    “I have to. Can’t get her off my mind,” I confess. “I’m sure that once I fuck her, she’ll be out of my system.”
    “Whatever you say, Bro, whatever you say,” Rory says, waving me off.
    “What?” I ask, raking my hands through my hair.
    “Dre, you haven’t as much as looked at a girl since you got to Charleston last year, and now … now, you think fucking some chick is going to ‘cure your month-long, obsessive crush?” Rory asks.
    “This is more than “baby Dre” wanting to come out and play. This chick got under your skin. This is more than just your pants talking.” Rory argues.
    “Ro, it’s not. I’m not getting serious. This is just going to be a one-time hook up and out … pun intended … And who’re you calling ‘baby Dre,’ Tiny?” I jab, knowing that I just fueled a fire I’d never put out.
    “Tiny? Awwww fuck no. You know what they say about black men … that ain’t no myth. Do I have to show you again?” he asks, unbuttoning his pants. “Don’t make me show this Kathryn chick why white men just don’t add up. She’ll lose interest in you the second this thing’s free.”
    “Okay, okay, okay … just leave that anaconda under wraps. Ain’t no one safe with that thing out in the open,” I joke, backing away from him.
    Rory Carlson (Reginald Briar Carlson Jr.) and I have been friends since college. He was one of the only black guys in our fraternity. Thinking back on it now, they were probably trying to hit some minority-required quota. I didn’t exactly pledge the frat