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Chapter Fourteen: Pictures


Rhonda was a twenty-seven year old who caught my eyes while she was running on the treadmill. She was lean and blonde and the perfect candidate for taking back the lead. I caught her attention by buying her a bottle of water. We talked and within twenty minutes we were in her car, parked behind the gym and getting pretty serious. She had her legs wrapped around my waist and my tongue was somewhere around her tonsils and my shirt was gone and hers was mostly unbuttoned. I ran my hands under it, across her flat abs and towards her stretchy lyrcra gym shorts.

But the entire time I was thinking of Becky.

I'd spent the morning at Fresh Oasis, where Becky had made me a Blueberry Oatmeal smoothie for breakfast and I'd watched her clean off tables while we chatted for a couple hours about WOW quests and the prospect of a new Ghostbusters movie. We debated about current storylines going on The Walking Dead and reminisced about Choose Your Own Adventure books that we'd both owned when we were kids.

Then, when the mid-morning rush had hit Oasis, I'd gone to the gym and met Rhonda.

I kept glancing at my watch, calculating how long until Becky got out of work and I could go see her.

Meanwhile, outside of my head, in the back seat of her car, Rhonda gasped as I pushed my hand into her underwear.

I wondered if where I was right now was close enough to sex that if I were to stop it would count as a one up. I mean, did I have to follow through once I ascertained that they would've had sex with me if I'd wanted them to? Did I have to be a manwhore in order to prove my point?

Rhonda slipped her hands around my neck and into my hair, clutching onto my hair. Her chest heaved as she breathed beneath me. "Oh God yeah," she groaned.

Suddenly my phone vibed. Rhonda jumped and moaned. The phone was in my pocket in my jeans, which were currently pressed between us. Thank you, I thought, Whoever you are, I owe you big time. I pulled it out of my pocket. Rhonda opened her eyes as I answered it. "Hello?"

Rhonda looked pissed.

"Nick? It's AJ."

"Jay?" I said, I paused, then I said, "Where are you? Are you okay?"

AJ sounded confused. "What?"

"Oh my God. I'll be right there." I hung up. I looked at Rhonda. "I gotta go," I said, feigning shock. "Oh God. I gotta go." I grabbed my shirt from the seat behind me and struggled to put it on, hitting my wrist on the roof of the car.

"What happened?" she asked. Concern flickered on her face.

"My friend Jay's been in an accident," I answered. I crawled back and opened the door of the car. "I'm sorry. I gotta go see him. Call me." I took off across the parking lot, knowing full well that I hadn't given her my phone number.

I climbed into my car, started the ignition, and peeled out of the parking lot like I really was hustling to get to the hospital. I drove a couple blocks and parked, then called AJ back.

"What the fuck was that all about?" AJ demanded when he answered the phone.

"I was in a situation I needed to get out of and I kinda used your call as the catalyst," I replied.

AJ laughed. "Oh. Love life not going so smooth, Nathan?" he joked.

"Ehhh," I replied.

"Who's winning?"

"I am now," I replied.

"By how much?"

"Five to four," I answered.

AJ let out a low whistle. "I can't believe Chris has slept with four girls in a week and a half," he laughed.

"Me either."

"You said you were gonna give me details, though," AJ said, "You've failed me."

"You failed me first," I replied, "You should've seen the fun house joke your damn idea sent me off to."

AJ laughed, "Oh really? This I need to hear."

So I sat there in my car for almost an hour recounting my sexual adventures with Monica from San Diego, Heather at the Club, Jenny in the Locker Room, Ditzy Blonde from the Gym, and Rhonda in the Parking Lot.

"Sounds like you've been busy," AJ said. "So which one of these girls is the one you were out with last night?"

"What?"

"You ain't seen Twitter today, I take it?"

"No, why?"

"There's pictures of you online from last night. Some drunk chick on the boardwalk spotted you with a girl, took a couple pictures, posted them online bragging she saw Nick Carter and his new girlfriend...?"

"Fuck."

"So which one was that, 'cos she was pretty hot, I'm just saying. She's gonna be damn shocked to find out the random dude she fucked last night was a Backstreet Boy," he laughed.

"No, no... AJ, you gotta help me get those pictures forgotten about."

"What?"

"She can't find out like that. You gotta help me get rid of the pictures."

"How the hell do I get rid of the pictures?"

"I dunno. Post on Twitter that I was with you last night. Use one of the pictures you've got of us hanging out somewhere with my blonde hair before we dyed it. Please. We'll play off the look-a-like thing."

AJ was quiet a second. "What's the big deal? So what if the girl finds out who you were after the sex? It doesn't change the bet or the score... right? Or did Chris put some fucked up claus in the bet?"

"He didn't, this has nothing to do with the bet. This girl is different. Please AJ."

"Who is she?"

"Her name is Becky."

"Becky?" AJ sounded real interested now, "Where's Becky fit into the picture?"

"I met her on World of Warcraft," I answered, "We've hung out a couple times. I stuck with the Nate thing because... well just because. Please, can you help me? I don't want her to find out who I really am."

I felt like I was gonna be sick. There was no way in hell that Becky could find out who I really was. She just couldn't. No way. She'd never speak to me again. It was better this way, with her completely clueless and me just playing along, being myself without actually being myself -- no expectations.

"Okay. I'm logging onto Twitter right now." AJ said. A couple moments later, "There... you and I were bowling last night. You had blonde hair and I beat your ass a good'un." He chuckled.

"Really? You beat me? You could've at least made the lie believable," I joked. Relief felt like a cold glass of water on a hot-hot-hot day.