#Score by Kerrigan Grant

really well? Yeah, it's ruined now, so I had to throw it out, which sucks. Anyway, I was seriously about to tear this guy a new one but I looked up and I couldn't even breathe. It was so weird like . . . everything was just frozen, and all I could see was his face. He was strong, and that should've been the end of my interaction with the guy, but it wasn't. He started talking because he felt bad, so he bought me a drink, that kind of thing."
    Jasmine is listening intently. "Should I pop a bag of popcorn for this? What did he look like?"
    I smile to myself because I'm finally letting those small bits and pieces of what I saw Benji that night filter back in. "Blue eyes. Kind of tall, but not really that tall."
    "Everyone's tall compared to you, babe. No offense."
    "Shut up. So he wasn't super tall, but tall enough. He had a normal-looking head of hair I guess, Brown and sort of thick. I don't know what else to say. He was hot, you know? He has a really nice body though, I'll give him that. It definitely goes with his grin that I couldn’t get enough of . . ." Shit, now I've said too much.
    My best friend raises a delicate eyebrow at me, leaning forward with her glass of Chardonnay perilously teetering in her hand. "You couldn't get enough of? Oh, this is getting good . Keep going," she says as she sips her wine. "I'm all ears."
    I tell her about how our evening went, with the crazy shenanigans at the mini golf course and how we ended up in the back of some weirdo’s van. All the way up to the pier and what happened when we got to his hotel room. When I finish, I take a deep gulp of air, my throat tight from all the talking.
    "I don't think I've ever heard you say that much in a span of fifteen minutes. And you said he's from out of town? So you're not going to see him anymore. Well, that fucking bites."
    I nod, trying very hard not to actually let the words sink in. "That it does. But the whole thing was so crazy, so different from anything else I've ever done—"
    Jasmine quickly nods her head too. "I still can't believe you popped in the van with someone you don't know. That's so not like you, Ramona. I mean not that I'm complaining, but it's just nuts. I'm kind of proud of you, babe." There's a softness in Jasmine's eyes, almost like she's hesitating to say something.
    "What?"
    She looks at me and looks down, pretending like she has no idea what I'm talking about. "What?"
    "No. Don't do that what-what shit with me, Jas. If you have something to say, just get it out in the open." I'm steeling myself for whatever response she's about to give me.
    Jasmine takes another sip of her drink before setting it back down, slumping against the back of the couch. "I don't know. Like I said, I'm just proud of you. You've . . . come a long way."
    It hits me right between my eyes and down in the depths of my heart. Oh. That's what she's talking about.
    "I'd like to think so. I mean nothing is good and maybe that's why I let myself experience it, you know? No need to worry about getting hurt or anything. I mean I really wish I would've been able to sleep with him, but I'm just happy for the crazy night I got to experience. Definitely outside my comfort zone."
    I don't talk like this with anyone else, not my parents, not Brie, not Michael, no one. Only Jasmine shares my confidences and my trust. So when she leans over and wraps her arm around my shoulder, pulling me in for a hug, I just smile into her lightly perfumed hair.
    "You didn't tell me what this guy's name is."
    "Benji," I start, searching my memory of that night for his last name. "Benji Lundgren."
    Realization slowly dawns across Jasmine's face, and she whips her head over as if she's looking for something on the other side of room before turning back to me. "And you said this guy plays football?"
    I roll my eyes. "No, I said he plays soccer."
    Jasmine rolls her eyes right back at me. "Soccer, football. Same thing to me. Is he like a big soccer star? Or was he still in