The D Spot

I walked into the party with not a little trepidation. I knew only the one person–the guest of honor, of all people–and I was nervous that I wasn’t dressed right. I’d gone with jeans and a nice top, low heels so that in case there was any dancing, I wouldn’t fall and make a fool of myself.
Of course, I thought, what does it matter if they are all strangers?
And of course the reply is that the only one who is not a stranger–that is the one who’s opinion matters to me.
Anyway, after I got in I began to relax. The house was small, and there couldn’t have been more than two dozen people there. I grabbed a Diet Pepsi from the tub next to the door and found a quiet corner in which to scan the room.
“Hey, you made it!”
I looked up from my drink, which I was trying to pop open with my less-than-able short fingernails. There he was, next to me.
I smiled, and surruptuously inhaled the scent of him. He doesn’t wear cologne or anything of the sort; I just know his scent well.
“Yeah, here I am!” I said, probably too brightly. Inside my mind I rolled my eyes. Idiot, I thought. Say something more intelligent! “So,” I said outloud. “Nice party!”
“Yeah,” he said, wiping sweat from his forehead with a napkin and leaning against the wall beside me. My left elbow almost touched his right elbow and I could feel little bits of heat coming off his skin. “There are some people here I haven’t seen in forever. Over there is a guy I went to high school with,” he said, pointing to a tall man in a bright hawaiian print shirt. “And the girl he’s with is one of my ex girlfriends.” He sounded bemused.
“Huh,” I said. “Small world.”
We were silent for a few minutes. I sipped my drink in teeny sips, afraid that he’d be able to hear me swallow. My throat had gone dry the minute I saw him.
Suddenly he turned to me, leaning his right elbow against the wall, and resting his head in his right hand. “I am really glad to see you,” he said. I hoped I wasn’t imagining the emphasis he placed on the word ‘really’.
I opened my mouth to answer him, and to tell him how glad I was that I was able to make it, when he turned suddenly to his left. A young bouncy blonde had taken hold of his left hand. “Hey! Aren’t you going to introduce me?” She said in an impossibly high voice.
He may have winced, but since I know that I definitely winced, I am not sure. “Ah, sure,” he said. “This is Julie,” he said turning to me. Before he could give her my name, Julie extended her teeny little hand. I couldn’t resist noting the pepto-pink fingernails. Little Barbie daggers I thought, resisting a smile. Her hand was unsurprisingly cold and limpid in mine. Anemic too, I thought. It figures. She was exactly how I’d imagined, and I couldn’t decide if that thought made me feel better or worse.
“Isn’t this such a great party?” She babbled. “I am so glad you could come. He’s told me all about you, and how important you used to be.”
I raised my eyebrow. Used to be? I wondered. He definitely winced that time.
Julie continued on, not even realizing her impolite faux-pas. “It wasn’t easy pulling this all together…finding all the people, hacking into his email to get their addresses!” She giggled.
I stole another glance at him. Hacking into his email??
He shook his head briefly and I released the breath I’d been holding. She hadn’t hacked all of them then.
Julie prattled on but I lost the thread of her words. I watched instead the way those pink nails (claws? talons? I thought uncharitably) latched onto his arm. Possessive to say the least.
“C’mon honey,” she said to him, pulling him away from me. “I don’t need to bore her with all my talk. There is someone over here who wants to wish you a happy birthday!” He looked at me apologetically and let himself be led away.
I sighed.
This was going to be a long night.