Never Have I Ever: Punched my Roommate’s V-Card

“What the fuck?”

I closed the door to my room and rubbed my hand over my face.

What the hell had possessed me to admit to my housemates that I still had my V-card?

I was a little buzzed from the beer, but not much. I didn’t drink often, but one beer wasn’t enough to affect me.

It had to be the stupid game.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and FaceTimed my brother, not caring that it was Friday night and he was most likely out.

I waited patiently to see if he’d answer.

“What’s up, little bro?” Dex’s face filled my screen.

“I’m a moron.”

“That’s not exactly breaking news.” He smirked.

“Shut up. I’m being serious.” I flopped down on my bed dramatically.

His expression changed to one of concern. “What happened?”

“My roommates asked me to play Never Have I Ever with them.”

“And?”

“And we played, like, ten rounds, and I didn’t take a drink. Then we did the lightning round, and I drank three times.”

“You’re gonna have to give me some context here. I’m having trouble connecting the dots.”

“They kept saying all this crazy stuff, and most of the time at least one of them would drink, and I sat there like the little nerd I am.”

“You told me your roommates are party kids. It makes sense that they’d do stupid shit.”

“I guess.”

“What about this lightning round? I’ve never heard of that.”

“It was just a way for them to take some shots before they went out.”

“Still not seeing how you’re a moron.”

I sighed. “I kind of admitted some embarrassing stuff.”

“Like what?”

“Like I still have my V-card.”

He wrinkled his nose. “The big brother in me is very uncomfortable with this subject.”

“I think we’re past being uncomfortable talking about our sex lives, considering how many times I’ve walked in on you in various stages of getting lucky.”

“Logically, you’re right. But still. You’re my baby brother.”

Dex was four years older than me, but he’d always acted more like a father than a brother.

“I’m twenty. Old enough to vote. To go to war. I’m not a kid.”

“I know.” He tilted his head to the side. “Why do you think you told them that?”

“I don’t know.”

“I think you do.”

“Are you pulling out your shrink shit on me?”

“Maybe.” He grinned. “Gotta put my masters to work.”

“I’m not calling you doctor when you get your PhD, FYI.”

He smirked. “Stop avoiding my question.”

“I honestly don’t know. I was sitting there feeling like a loser, and I guess I wanted to shock them?”

“How did they react?”

“They stared at me like I was a science experiment, but no one said anything. Where are you?” Voices drifted out of my speakers.

“I’m in a bedroom at a party. I think there’s a couple outside the door who’d like to use it.”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” I rolled onto my stomach and put my chin on my hand, angling the phone so I could still see him.

“It’s fine. You know you’re more important than a party.” He waved his hand dismissively.

I smiled, feeling better even though nothing had been solved. I still had no idea why I’d done it, but whatever. It was over, and I couldn’t change it.

“Thanks. But it’s okay if you go back to it. I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

I nodded.

“Okay.” He glanced to the side as a loud banging rang out.

“You’d better let them in before they bust down the door.”

“Probably a good idea. And, Finn?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s okay to step outside your comfort zone every once in a while. You’re in college. Trust me when I say this is the last time you’re going to have this kind of freedom to explore who you are and what you like. It’s normal to struggle with your identity at this age.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

He grinned. “I know that was sarcasm, but not gonna lie. I liked it.”

“Go back to your party, Doctor Donovan.” I rolled my eyes, repressing my smile.

I was ridiculously proud of my brother.

Our parents hadn’t been happy that he’d taken psych in school instead of going premed like they’d wanted him to. They would have been fine if he’d wanted to be a psychiatrist, but his interests lay in research and teaching. That was unacceptable to our parents, even if he had Dr. in front of his name.

They were the reason I was in my second last year of my economics degree and taking as many prelaw classes as my schedule would allow. My father’s undergrad was econ, and he’d handpicked not only my degree, but also the majority of my classes this year after I’d filled my electives with science classes last year.

The more I learned about law and being an attorney, the less enthusiasm I had for graduation.

Not only did I still have five more years of school left, but I’d also done an internship during my summer break at a law firm a family friend was a partner in. I would never have gotten it if my dad hadn’t greased the wheels with his buddy. I hadn’t minded the research part, but the few times I’d observed court cases had proved I wasn’t made to be a courtroom lawyer.

The idea of standing in a crowded room and giving speeches to try and sway jurors or judges made my anxiety spike.

Nope. I was made to be a desk lawyer. One who didn’t deal with people and instead spent their time doing paperwork.

“Try not to let this ruin your weekend.”

I snapped my attention back to my phone.

“I’ll try.”

Muffled voices shouted at him.

“For fuck’s sake. Just a minute.”

I waved and ended the call so he could deal with whoever was on the other side of the door.

I tossed my phone onto my bed, rolled onto my back, and stared up at my ceiling.

Being in shared housing after two years in the dorms was an adjustment. I liked having my own room, but I wasn’t used to dealing with four roommates instead of just one.

Alex, Matt, and Beck seemed nice, but they lived in a different world than I did. They partied and had friends and always seemed to be busy.

Eli was never around, so I had no idea what kind of guy he was.

Then there was me, the bookworm who spent his free time studying and hiding in his room.

Beck and I shared the third floor. Our rooms weren’t as big as the others, and we had to deal with sloped ceilings that could make walking around in the dark hazardous, but they were bigger than a dorm. And sharing a bathroom with only one person instead of a full floor was a bonus.

Sighing, I picked up my book and settled against my pillows. Another Friday night alone. Thank fuck I was an introvert. Otherwise, my loner tendencies would have made my life a living hell.

I read the page, but the words were swimming in front of my eyes.

The game wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t been playing with a bunch of guys who seemed to have no limits when it came to doing stupid shit and hooking up.

I’d been tempted to drink a few times, but I hadn’t wanted to lie.

None of the guys knew I was gay, and the few times when I had done something, they’d used gendered terms.

That was the shitty part about being half in the closet. I had no issues confirming my sexuality if someone asked, but I didn’t offer the information to people unless I trusted them.

None of my roommates seemed like assholes, and I’d never heard any of them say anything homophobic, but a drinking game wasn’t the time to come out to a bunch of guys I would be living with for the next eight months.

I shut my book with a snap and tossed it aside. I was too worked up to read. I couldn’t concentrate for shit.

I grabbed my phone and texted my best friend.

Finn: I’m bored

Anna: I’m at a gallery show downtown

Anna: your welcome to join us

Finn: which gallery

She texted me the address

Finn: be there soon

She sent me a smiling emoji.

I climbed off my bed and put on my shoes.

Galleries weren’t really my thing, but they usually had free food and wine at these events. I could pretend I knew about art for a few hours to hang with my bestie.