Chapter Two: How To Do Jennifer Aniston

"You guys," said Dan, fuming up and down the sitting room, "are all idiots."

Eric, Jamie, Ben, and I were all jammed on the couch in front of him, getting a strict talking-too.

"You made us all sit down to tell us that?" exclaimed Eric. "I want a sandwich."

"No, you can't get up!" said Dan, pushing Eric back into his place on the couch. "You are in very big trouble."

"What, are you gonna put us in time out?" I asked, annoyed.

"I might," Dan warned. "Why the hell would you act like such morons in front of my girlfriend?"

Right. His "girlfriend."

"What did you expect?" said Jamie.

"I expected you to act like adults."

"But we're not adults," Eric told Dan.

"You're twenty-two!" Dan exclaimed.

"Well, if you want to get all technical about it," Eric grumbled.

"You guys have to stop fucking around in front of people!" said Dan, trying—and failing—to look stern and threatening. He looked like he was constipated.

"That's what she said," Eric muttered. Eric and Ben high-fived and Dan looked like he was going to explode.

"Who stuck a stick up your ass?" I asked.

"You know what, Scho? A stick up your ass would do you well."

"Somebody's PMS-ing," muttered Eric.

"I don't have time for this," said Ben Ass. He got up.

"Where do you think you're going?" demanded Dan.

"My job."

"It's a Saturday!"

"That is just how much I don't want to be here right now," said Ben, and he left.

"Alright, no fair," said Eric incredulously. "If Ben gets to go to work, then I get my sandwich." Dan ignored him.

"Do any of you have any idea how freaked out Julianna is?" said Dan. "She thinks you all are complete jackasses."

"She's got it right," said Jamie.

"Dan, what were you thinking?" I demanded. "Why would you bring a girl somewhere where Eric is?"

"You were just as bad," said Dan, rounding on me. "Why would you describe your job to her?"

"She asked."

"Argh! You are all impossible."

"You sound like a teenage girl," Eric told him.

"Fine! God, I quit!" Dan said, a little infuriated. "I've got other places to be, anyways."

"You don't," I told him.

"Yeah, actually," he said. "I'm meeting Julianna at McCormick and Schmicks for dinner."

"Of course you are," I muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What? Oh, nothing," I said, smirking a little on the inside—Dan can't afford McCormick and Schmicks. He can hardly afford McDonalds'.

"Yeah, so I'm leaving now, and you can be weird while I'm gone," Dan said. He stuffed his wallet in his pocket and left.

See, after prom, things were never really the same between us. For a few weeks after, we never really talked to each other. I mean, it's not like we ignored each other or anything: if I Dan across the street, I'd wave and he'd wave back. If Dan dropped a pencil under my desk in calculus, he'd ask me to pick it up, and I would. But it was all very strained and quiet and formal.

Then, we got our college letters. Dan and I were both accepted at SPU. Jamie, who had been accepted to UW, had found this apartment, but he could only afford a third of the price. So he asked Dan and me to move in.

He asked us separately, actually—we didn't find out until a little while later. When we did, it was a little awkward.

I was taking out the garbage one night. It was a Tuesday—garbage day's Wednesday, you know. And I saw the Caulfield's house across the street, and they hadn't taken out their garbage yet. So I walked over and started pulling out their cans. It's just something that I've been doing for them since we were about twelve. Dan forgets a lot, see, so I just do it for them. I don't think anybody minds.

So I finished the first one and I went back to get the recycling bin, but then I saw Dan standing in the doorway and I stopped. There was a bit of a pause before he spoke.

"Hey, Scho," said Dan, and he said it all nice and everything, but it sounded a little…a little strained, almost. It was hard to explain.

"Hey, Dan," I said. I didn't have anything to say to him—I was afraid my mouth would run away with me again and I'd tell him I was pregnant or something.

"You still do that, huh?" said Dan, referring to the garbage cans.

"Old habits die hard, I guess," I told him, trying to smile a bit. Half of me—oh who am I kidding, all of me—wanted to get up and run the other way but I just couldn't. It was like I had glued myself to the ground or something.

"Hear you got into SPU," Dan continued. "Congratulations. I got in too." Dan talks more than me. I don't talk a whole lot, but sometimes my Smart Brain shuts off and Dumb Brain takes over and I just shoot my mouth off. And that is where are the stupid things that I say come from.

"Yeah," I nodded. "Yeah, it's pretty cool." There was a pause. Dan nodded along with me, like a bobble head, and I could tell he was as uncomfortable as I was. I think we stood in silence for about two minutes, just…just looking at each other, or something. I don't even know what I was thinking.

"I'm moving out," I finally said, because the silence was becoming absolutely unbearable. "Gonna live in the city. It's more convenient, you know?"

"Really? You got a place yet?" Dan replied, and I couldn't tell if he was really interested or not because the conversation had already become so strained.

"Yeah." I nodded again.

"That's good. On campus or off?"

"Off. Jamie's found this apartment he can't afford, so I'm with him there," I explained. "There's supposed to be some other guy too, but I haven't met him yet."

"Really," said Dan, "because Jamie also asked me to move in with him."

"Oh." It took a second, but then I got it. "Oh, so…you're the other guy. That's…"

"Yeah, it's…" But he couldn't finish the sentence, either.

"Hey, look, that won't be, like, weird or anything, right?" I asked, and I immediately wished I hadn't.

"Weird? Oh, uh, no, why would it be weird?"

"Well, I just thought, maybe, because of…well…you know, and—"

"Oh, yeah, but that was, like, nothing. I mean, I don't really even remember, even, or anything."

"Oh yeah, yeah, me neither. It's just like, whoosh! Water under the bridge, right? Yeah, what even happened that night? Ha."

"Yeah." Pause. "Yeah, Scho, that won't be all weird for you and stuff, will it?"

"Weird for me? No way, why would you even think that?"

"Well, it's just…you kind of brought it up…"

"Well, that's just 'cause I wanted to make sure you…you were cool with it and stuff, because I'll move out, if you need—"

"No, that's okay, I can move if—I mean, you've known Jamie loads longer, and I don't want it to be awkward."

"I don't think it'll be awkward. I already said that. Yeah, you can sleep with whoever you want." And that is the moment where I wanted to slam my head into a brick wall.

Dan laughed nervously.

"Oh, yeah, well, thanks for your permission."

I always make things more awkward when I'm around Dan. Always. I should get a freaking award.

"So I guess we're gonna live together, huh?" said Dan, and I could tell that he wanted to be anywhere but right there almost as much as me.

"Yeah, I guess."

Dan paused, nodded, and started back towards his house.

"Wait, Dan," I said, and he turned.

"What's up?"

I cleared my throat and tried not to look at my feet or mumble or anything, but it was real hard to keep my eyes on Dan.

"I'm sorry."

Dan swallowed. Not gulped, just swallowed. And he looked back at me and nodded and said, "It's cool. Thanks." And he walked back into his house. I stayed there for a while, just staring at his closed door, thinking…I don't even know what I was thinking.

"Scho, you all there?" Jamie snapped his hands in front of my face. I blinked and jumped back a little.

"Yeah, sorry," I said. "I'm extra tired today, I guess." I sat down on the couch and flipped through the TiVo. Jamie went into the kitchen.

"What's this?" I asked, playing the most recent thing on the list.

"No, Scho, that's mine!" Eric dove onto the couch and took the remote from me, but it was already playing. It was, you guessed it, a Victoria's Secret ad.

"You TiVo Victoria's Secret commercials?" I exclaimed incredulously.

"It's like free porn!" said Eric, trying to defend himself.

"Wow, okay, I don't even want to know all this stuff you've done on this couch," I said, standing up immediately because I knew what boys do when they see porn. "We should probably get that dry-cleaned or something. Just when you think you can't get any more pathetic…of all the men in the world you need a girlfriend the most."

"Yes, but until that happy day, Heidi Klum will just have to suffice."

I rolled my eyes and cringed a little, retreating into the kitchen where there was a little less crazy.

"That is disgusting," said Jamie, who was sitting on the counter, watching Eric and drinking straight from the milk carton. He offered it to me and I downed the rest of the carton.

"I don't think even we can count all his problems," I replied, putting down the milk.

"I know, and I can count all the way to a hundred, too." Jamie wiped his mouth with his hand. "You've got a milk mustache thing."

"It's attractive, isn't it?"

"Oh, yes, you look hot. It's a great look for you, you should keep it."

"I will, thank you, Jamie."

"Hey, what are we doing tonight?" asked Eric, walking into the kitchen.

"I don't really want to do anything," I said.

"Hey, why don't we all go down to that club on Belmont?" said Eric, completely ignoring me.

"That's an eighteen and under club," said Jamie.

"So? A clubs a club. Who knows? It could be fun. We could meet some people, or—"

"That's illegal," I told him.

"I said 'meet', not 'have sexual intercourse,'" Eric clarified.

"You were thinking sexual intercourse," I pointed out.

"Okay, how about neither of you ever say sexual intercourse ever, ever again?" Jamie pleaded.

"Does that word make you uncomfortable?" I asked, laughing a bit.

"Yes, very much so."

"He's just embarrassed because he isn't getting any," Eric told me.

"Right, because you are," I said.

"I so am."

"Name one girl you did in the past six months," Jamie challenged Eric.

"Jennifer," Eric said immediately.

"Jennifer. Jennifer who?"

"An—Aniston."

"Jennifer Aniston?" I said, eyebrows raised. "Wasn't she on TV, or something? Like, on a sitcom?"

"You are correct, Scho," said Jamie. "It was about a bunch of people who were friends."

"Oh, shut up, Scho, you aren't having sex either," Eric snapped.

"Yeah, but I'm not a desperate pervert getting turned on by Victoria's Secret commercials that I TiVo-ed on my female roommate's television."

"That was good," said Jamie, impressed.

"Thank you, I thought so too," I replied, and we high-fived.

"Right, so are we going to that club or not?" said Eric, annoyed and very desperate to change the subject.

"No," I said flatly.

"God, why not?" said Eric exasperatedly.

"I'm tired, okay? I just want to sleep," I told him sharply.

"I think that Scho is a little bit sad," said Eric in the most annoying voice anybody could possibly imagine. "Are you sad, Scho? Do you need to talk about it?"

But I wasn't looking at Eric, because I saw that Jamie was looking at me all concerned-like. Kind of like a mediocre guidance counselor at a junior high school.

"Holy shit, I'm fine!"

Both of them stopped and looked at me, and I realized how loud I had said that.

"Fine, we'll go to the pedophile club," I said reluctantly. I'm not a big fan of teenagers, but I am also not a big fan of Eric masturbating on our couch when the rest of us are out.

"Shotgun!" Eric exclaimed when the bus rounded the corner and stopped in front of the bus stop.

"Really? You're going to call shotgun on a bus?" said Jamie. Eric did not answer.

We sat in the middle, next to an uptight businessman who was barking into his cell phone like a crazy person. He was being very obnoxious, ranting about flowcharts and sales records, but then I caught sight of Eric's face.

He was wearing his "ha, ha, I fooled you" grin. Eric doesn't get to use this grin very often, seeing as my minor was quantum physics and Jamie nearly has a PhD. So this worried me. I groaned at the thought of what he could possibly be planning—it probably had something to do with prostitutes.

Before I could get Jamie's attention the bus lurched to a stop and we got off. Eric led the way up the street and Jamie and I followed. I told Jamie about Eric's unsettling smirk.

"We're probably going to Hooters," said Jamie bitterly.

Eric would not answer the questions we shouted at him, and in retrospect we probably should have stopped right there and turned around, but I think half of us wanted to see what the hell Eric was going to do.

What the hell Eric was going to do, however, was worse than I had expected.

"No," said Jamie.

"I'm calling a cab," I said, pulling out my phone. I swore to myself—it wasn't charged.

We were standing in front of The Lusty Lady, the sleaziest strip club in Seattle.

"Eric, there is no way in hell I am going in there," I said sternly.

"Oh, come on, Scho, live a little!" Eric pleaded.

"Eric, in case you have not noticed, Scho's a girl," Jamie pointed out.

"Well, yeah, but with her being a lesbian and all, I thought—"

"Wait, you think I'm a lesbian?" I exclaimed.

"You're not?" And Eric looked genuinely surprised.

"No, dumbass." I punched Eric in the stomach.

"Eric, this stuff is disgusting," said Jamie, gesturing to the strip club. "Come on, let's just go see a movie or something."

"No, we've gotta go in!" said Eric. "I've actually got money, and—"

"Wait, you have enough money to pay strippers but not enough to pay your rent?" I exclaimed.

"Scho, some people have priorities."

"I am not going in there," I said.

"Well, I can't go alone," said Eric, "I'll look like a loser."

"Yeah, because begging your friends to go into a strip club with you makes you a winner, right?" I snapped.

"God, fine! I'm going." Eric went into the club, and Jamie and I turned around to go home. Suddenly, he stopped.

"What?"

"We just let Eric Wells loose in a room full of whores," said Jamie slowly.

"Oh shit."

And that is how we ended up in a strip club.

"Oh, so what happened to 'there's no way in hell I'm going in there?'" said Eric triumphantly. I didn't answer—the place was disgusting. It was full of fat men, beer, and naked girls. I hate strip clubs.

"Shut up," I grimaced.

"Yeah, and get me a beer," Jamie added.

"Scho, you want one?" asked Eric.

"No." Getting drunk in a strip club. Now there's a good idea.

Eric shrugged and walked off, and Jamie and I picked the darkest corner, the one furthest from all the disgusting-ness.

"So you're not a lesbian?" Jamie smirked. I punched his shoulder. "Someone's touchy today."

"Here," said Eric, who had returned from the bar. He handed Jamie a beer and sat down by me. "Why are we over here? We can't see anybody."

"That is the point," I said through gritted teeth.

"God, Scho, you're such a killjoy."

"Eric, this is disgusting."

"It it's so disgusting then why are you still here?"

"Because I don't want you bringing home one of them!" I exclaimed, pointing to a stripper.

"Seriously, Eric, let's just go home," said Jamie.

"What are you, gay?"

"What is it with you and us being gay?" I demanded. "This isn't Will and Grace."

"Hello, little lady," said a slurred, sleazy voice from behind me. I felt a hand on my shoulder and swung around.

"What?" I said. There was this man standing in front of me, and he fit the description of his voice. Stereotypical drunken pervert—unshaven, short, fat, balding, with a distinct pedophiliac aura about him. And he smelled real bad.

"Ready to earn your keep?" Pervert slurred, holding up a pack of dollar bills. Oh, fantastic. He thought I was a stripper.

"No," I said flatly.

"Oh, are you gonna play a game with me?" Pervert leered at me—his teeth were rotting and sick. "You gonna make me beg? I'm up for that, sweetie—"
I slapped him clear across the face. He was drunk, so I decided not to punch him. I figured he'd take the hit and leave, but it was not so.

"Playing tough, are we now?"

"Sir, I will give you three seconds to leave me alone," I told him, my teeth gritted. He leered at me as I counted in my head, and I hadn't hit two before he reached out and squeezed my boob.

"What the hell!?" I pulled away real fast. Jamie choked on his beer, and Eric shouted, "HEY!"

The man leered and looked like he was gonna do it again, so I punched him real hard in the face. He fell over, but he didn't go unconscious.

"C'mon, let's go," I muttered to Jamie and Eric. Nobody had really noticed us, and I wanted to keep it that way. As we walked over the not-quite-unconscious man, I saw the dollar bills in his pocket. I swiped them out and pocketed them. He deserved it.

"Good thing you're a lesbian, huh?" said Eric, sounding relieved.