You Trained These Lips When They Were Champs

Chloe climbs in the driver's seat, and says, "Hey, you drove here" when I give her the stinkeye. I shrug and say, "Whatever."

"My place or yours first?"

"Yours, my car's still there and I want to pack my stuff up too, and get it back to your place so that-"

"To make a short story long," I interrupt, laughing.

"Your place first." Chloe never really has been good at story telling, bless her heart. That's one of the things I find most amusing about her.

"Play That Funky Music" starts playing on the stereo (we're listening to an oldies station) and we both scream in delight and reach for the volume knob at the same time. I stop and tell her, "Wait- not yet!" turn it down a little, and then call Jeff on my cell and tell him to turn on the station we're listening to. I turn around and wait for their reaction, and Chloe glances in the rearview mirror every so often to see what they'll do. From what I can see, Shaant's fiddling with the buttons on the console.

When he finally gets it on the station, Jeff starts laughing hysterically, and the other guys are screaming and clutching their ears in sheer agony.

Wussies.

I'm laughing really hard too, 'cause I was expecting something like this.

Jeff calls me back, and says, "Real nice, babe. What next, The Moldy Peaches?"

"I could if you want me to, there's some on my iPod!"

"Ohnoooo! Please don't. I like The Moldy Peaches, but now is not the time!"

Chloe turns a corner, into the parking lot of my apartment complex, and parks inmy designated spot. (Remember, it's my car she's driving.) "Hey," I tell Jeff, "We're here. Park that big lunky thing."

"Oh hush you, your car's not exactly a gem." It's a Chevy Corsica; the year's like... eighty-something? I got it from my folks. "But I'll see you in a minute. Later, babe." He hangs up, and I close my phone and get out of the car.

We meet each other at the entryway to the complex, and Chloe says, "Everybody ready to see May-ann's hovel sweet hovel?" I flick her in the arm. "Ow!" she interjects, rubbing her arm.

"You deserved it. My house is cleaner than yours!"

"Well, yeah. You actually have so much of no life that you clean your house."

"Not regularly," I say, unlocking the door to the inside, "Because you know, most people don't wake up and say, 'Hey, maybe when I go to that concert tonight, one of the band members will ask me to be his girlfriend and they'll all ask me and my friend to come on the tour with them and we'll all go to mine and my friend's apartment and get some stuff.' That's just surreal. If this were any more surreal, I'd either think I was toked up or drunk."

"Since when have you cared about sobriety." A statement rather than a question. But she has a point.

I fumble with the key to my door and eventually get it unlocked, and I usher everyone in except Chloe and Dave. They're headed to the outside again.

"Bye guys!" Chloe beams, and they leave the complex.

"Hey, can you guys handle all this? I kinda need to talk to Tom quick. Okay?" Me and Jeff nod, and point at the door. Smiling, of course, I'd hate for them to think I was being unhospitable.

As soon as they're out the door, my lips are on Jeff's like a ravenous hyena on an effing wildebeest. His eyes widen for a moment, then kisses me back. We collapse on the couch and now we're just like, making out. He really is bloody excellent.