How Long You Should Wait to Have Sex: a Novel (29 page)

“You know what you did!”

“If I knew, would I be breaking into your house to find out?”

“Well, I’m not speaking to you.”

“Then at least unzip my dress. I’ve gotta get out of this prison.”

“Why don’t you ask Marty to do it?” she sneers at me, like a jealous teenager.

“I would! If he were here!” Truth is I’d ask anyone to do it if they were here. Even John. Even Colette! But they’re not.

“See!” Lacey retorts, referring to my willingness to let Marty unzip my dress, “Marty was supposed to be my guy! He liked me! And then you made him all rich, and took him all for yourself!”

“I didn’t take him for myself, Lacey! I fell in love with him!”

Whoa. Did I just say I fell in love with Marty? Why would I say that? Is that how I feel? I thought I loved John. I mean, until tonight. But, oh my gosh, I’m in love with Marty. Lacey is right. I’m a terrible friend.

“Really? You feel
love
? Like, for real love?” Lacey demands, equally as surprised as I am.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize it myself until I just said it. Just now. You have every right to hate me.” After all, I kind of hate myself for this.

I don’t understand how this happened. And, how was I the last one to find out?

I guess I must’ve been so obsessed with getting John, that I didn’t even notice that I had something so much deeper with Marty. But what about Lacey?

“You are dense!” Lacey yells. Then, she thinks about it for a moment, and the majority of her anger dissolves, as she digests the situation, “I can’t believe you didn’t even know.”

I laugh awkwardly, because she’s right. But is she letting me off the hook?

“You wanna know how our date went?” Lacey asks, with a hint of resentment in her voice, “I tried to talk to him about all his success, and all he could say about it was how you made him feel funny enough to crack up the talk show hosts. And how you made him feel like what he does matters. And how you gave him the confidence to know he could succeed. How without you, he wouldn’t have any of it.

“So finally, I asked him, if you’re so great, then why doesn’t he want to work with you anymore? And that’s when he got up from the table and said, ‘I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.’ And he gave me some money for the bill and a taxi, and some extra that I don’t know what it was for, but I used it to buy that flat screen TV over there,” she points to a brand new 50 inch flat screen TV, “and he left… He loves you too, Sam.”

A wave of serenity passes over me.

“And the craziest part,” Lacey concludes, “is that you met him on the night you turned 30. Just like you planned.”

Still I feel bad for Lacey, like I’ve stolen something from her, “But what about you?”

“Honestly, the money didn’t change anything—besides my living room,” she happily points out the TV again. “I’m still not attracted to him. No offense.”

We laugh and hug, excited to be on the same page about this, but more importantly, excited that we get to be friends again.

Chapter 33

Getting people who aren’t speaking to me to speak to me, by literally hunting them down where they are seems to be a pretty productive technique, so I decide to use the same method to get Marty to acknowledge my existence. I would worry about doing something so bold with any other guy, but I feel so comfortable around Marty that I don’t even have the inkling of a need to play games with him. Even if he doesn’t appreciate my gesture, and even if Lacey is wrong about him, and he’s not in love with me, I know that Marty will be cool about the fact that I tried. And he definitely won’t make me feel like an ass for reaching out.

I get myself to U.C. Berkeley, and I sneak into one of Marty’s oversized lectures, where I hide myself in the mass of students sitting at the back of the class. Turns out, Marty is not only a sweet, thoughtful man, and a hilarious author, but he’s also an easy to understand, inspiring, compelling, and compassionate teacher. Just the kind I would’ve had a secret crush on when I was still in college.

Not only that, but he’s lecturing about one of my most personally all-consuming subjects of late.

“Oxytocin is the reason that men never ask themselves how long they should wait to have sex, and women do. You see, unless the man has pre-existing emotions for a woman, he can jump out of the sack, just as easily as he jumped in.”

A female student raises her hand to ask the end-all-be-all of questions in this arena, the one every young—and in my case, not so young—woman wants to know, “But what about women? How long should we wait?”

After everything I’ve been through lately with John, I consider myself something of an expert on the matter, and before I know what hit me, my hand shoots up, waving back and forth, signaling to the teacher that “I know! I know!”

“Yes, you there,” Marty says, calling on the hand that is necessarily attached to the most eager student.

Oh, shit! Why did I raise my hand? Now he’s going to know I’m here. Now I’ve got to answer. Sometimes I just don’t know what is wrong with me.

Marty calls on me again, “Did you want to respond?”

I guess I have to.

I stand up, slowly, shyly revealing myself to him. His face soon transforms, passing through the many different phases of surprise, which I’ve just forced him to publicly display in front of his young, influenceable followers. I’d better get this answer right.

“It doesn’t matter how long you wait to have sex. All that matters is who you wait to have it with. Because when you meet the right guy, it’ll just be right.”

Marty nods in agreement, still appearing to be completely bewildered that I’m here, “What are you doing here?”

At this point, the other students turn to check me out, as whispered rumblings erupt throughout the room. I guess they’ve realized that this is personal. I hope I haven’t stepped out of line in his place of work, but it’s too late to turn back now.

“I just came by to tell you that John finally proposed to me… and I broke up with him.”

Marty looks around at his students, embarrassed that class has been interrupted by this random woman’s personal gossip about her own relationship. I feel bad.

“I’m sorry, this isn’t the right place to discuss this,” I admit regretfully, as I make my way up the steps toward the exit at the back of the room.

“No, wait!” Marty stops me. “They’ve heard this much. Maybe there’s a lesson in it for them.” He addresses the class, “You see, John is a man she’s been obsessed with getting a proposal from. This is related to today’s topic because she felt that John would always pull away and act strangely after sex.”

Okay, so now I’m the one who’s mortified, but I guess I brought this on myself.

“What’s interesting to uncover here is: why after nine or so months of obsessing on a man, does a woman turn down his offer of marriage.”

He looks towards me questioningly. I guess I’m supposed to answer that now. I gulp back my fear and humiliation, and find the words I’m looking for.

“I guess, I recently learned that it can often be those very obsessions, over someone unavailable, that lead you straight to the thing that changes your whole life.” I shoot him a meaningful look that’s supposed to communicate to him that I’m going for an explanation just cryptic enough that the students won’t understand it, but he will.

“So John is your lesbian college roommate?” He got it! I nod. “And I assume he led you to your elusive female orgasm?” I nod. “Which is?” he asks.

“You.”

Marty nods, but the look in his eyes is a little startled.

“I mean,” I go on awkwardly, “if you want to be that for me?”

He doesn’t respond right away. For some reason, he is conflicted. I can see it in his eyes. Maybe Lacey was wrong. Maybe he doesn’t like me.

He doesn’t address me; instead he addresses his class.

“Would you guys mind if I took a time out from professionalism to deal with my feelings for a minute?” The class seems to agree to it. Hell, when I was a student, any excuse to get out of working, even for a minute, would be welcomed and prayed for.

Marty walks up the steps toward me. But right before he gets there, he addresses the class one more time.

“Quick show of hands. Is anyone in here under 18?” He spins around to check for hands. None of them go up.

Then he grabs me, dips me, and lays a giant passionate kiss on me. The uncomfortable students release their awkward tension by giggling quietly. Gradually, though, led by one young upstart, they engage in slowly building applause, hoops, and hollers.

“Does that answer your question?” Marty asks, smiling gleefully into my eyes, as he lifts me back up.

“Yes.”

Marty looks at his watch, “Okay, I’d say we’re getting up on that minute I promised these guys I wouldn’t exceed. You should go. But I will call you back this time. As soon as I’m out of here.”

I let him get back to work, and walk on a cloud, all the way home.

I don’t feel any of the anxiety or obsessive feelings I felt around John. I just feel safe and right, like my gut is telling me that I’m where I’m supposed to be.

~

When Marty and I get together later that day, at my place, the one thing he can’t understand is how I managed to crash his class in the middle of my workday. Personally, if I were him, I probably would’ve had many more pressing questions than that one. Nonetheless, I inform him of my misfortune with my job situation. At which point, he instantly gets an idea.

“We’re in the golden age of entrepreneurship. Why do you have to get a job? You should start your own firm.”

“Starting a business takes a lot of money and know-how,” I point out.

“You’ve got the know-how. You were so good at helping me that it cost you your job!” he jokes. “Also, you were so good at helping me that money is no longer an issue for you. I’ll give you whatever you need.”

Wow. He’s so kind and generous that I almost don’t want to take advantage of it. I really like this idea, and I have all the contacts I need, but what if he thinks I’m taking him for granted? Or using him? Or gold-digging?

“I can’t take your money,” I protest.

“Look, Samantha, I’m a rich and successful guy,” he says jovially, “so if you’re gonna be my publicist, I kinda need you to be at a fancy firm.”

I laugh.

“I don’t know. I just wouldn’t feel right about it.”

He pulls me close, looks deeply into my eyes, and says in the most heartfelt way possible, “I wanna do this, Samantha, because I wouldn’t have anything to invest, if you hadn’t invested in me first.”

I love him so much… I nod softly, and he kisses me, as if in gratitude for accepting his offer. Then the most amazing thing in the world happens… he unzips my dress.

“Ahhhh.”

The End

Acknowledgements

Thank you to all the nice people who read this book to give me feedback on characters and storylines, correct my typos, and suggest grammatical alterations. These kind friends include my mother, Françoise Sorgen-Goldschmidt, my sister, Valerie Braimah, my cousin, Sarah Sorgen-Wood, and my step-father Olivier Goldschmidt, the technical wizard, who also helped me figure out how to format the book for e-publishing. Despite their generous help, none of them has read or verified this particular page, so please blame any mistakes herein solely on me.

I’d also like to thank my friends Tim Lambert and Clyde Smith, for respectively designing the cover and shooting the photo for the cover.

Without the support and the time taken by all of these people, this book may never have gotten to a quality I would be comfortable calling “finished”.

You have all made me feel very loved.

To see these nice people’s credits listed on the worldwide web, and find out what else they’re doing, go to:
http://howlongyoushouldwait.com/?page_id=333

About the Author

After graduating from UCLA, Monique Sorgen worked as a director’s assistant in television, and then wrote and directed a short film, “
Pants on Fire,
” which garnered international distribution and played on television and airlines around the world, including on the prestigious ARTE Network.

This led to writing jobs on TV channels Comedy Central, VH1, and a staff position at ABC in a think tank, developing shows for the network with a team of creative people.  In feature films, Monique was hired by Bigfoot Entertainment to write “
The Babymaker
,” an original script based on a producer’s idea. Bigfoot subsequently flew her to Hong Kong to pen a remake of the 1999 film, “
Love Stinks
.” She was also hired to do a page-one re-write of “
Rock n’ Roll Princess
,” for Mike Elliott of Capital Arts Entertainment, and has worked as a script consultant with producers Mike Gabrawy of Arclight films, and Chris Moore of “
Project Greenlight
” and “
American Pie
” fame.  In 2009, she was selected as a finalist for the Walt Disney Screenwriting Fellowship, for her inspirational basketball script, “
All the Way Down
,” which was subsequently optioned by USA Network, to be made as a television movie. Monique’s most recent writing work includes developing a script for DiNovi Productions, and completing her first novel,
“How Long You Should Wait to Have Sex”.

Monique is a member of the Writer’s Guild of America and is represented by The Gersh Agency.

She is currently creating an interactive branded website
http://howlongyoushouldwait.com/
where people can discuss the topic of whether or not a person should wait to have sex with a new partner.

Please visit the site and join the conversation!

http://HowLongYouShouldWait.com/

Copyright

How Long You Should Wait to Have Sex. © 2013 by Monique Sorgen. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable, right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information and retrieval system, in any form, or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written consent of Monique Sorgen.