Free Girlfriend Material by Melissa Kantor Page B

go off to drink a Pernod together. But since I’m not exactly British, I couldn’t really see myself addressing Lawrence and Adam as “chaps.”
    Plus, I don’t even know what Pernod is.
    “So how come we haven’t seen you around?” asked Lawrence. He sounded genuinely bewildered, like he’d extended numerous invitations only to have me repeatedly RSVP no .
    “Oh, I …” Well, maybe if you or your friend Sarah ever told me I was welcome, I might have shown up more.
    I was still trying to figure out what to say when a voice behind me said, “Don’t start in on me.”
    I turned around and saw Jenna coming up the stairs.
    “You’re late,” said Adam.
    “I’m ten minutes late,” said Jenna. “Chill.” She had pulled her blond hair back into a high ponytail, and was wearing a white tank top and a short blue skirt. “Hey,” she said, seeing me. “Long time no see.”
    Once again I was at a loss for a truthful but decorous response. I just shrugged and smiled, as if I too was sorry I hadn’t joined them more often but circumstances beyond my control had prevented it. Which, when you thought about it, was kind of true.
    “So, are you guys ready?” asked Jenna. “We’ve been ready for—” Lawrence started, but
    Jenna interrupted him. “Dude, relax. It’s not like you have a job or anything.
    Adam and I are the ones deserving of some R and R.”
    I felt really weird just standing there. “Well, I should probably go,” I said. “Nice seeing you all again.”
    “Do you feel like playing?” asked Jenna.
    Even though she was looking directly at me, I couldn’t believe this was an actual invitation. “Me?” I asked.
    Jenna laughed. “Yes, you,” she said.
    “I think what Jenna means”—Adam leaned forward and looked me up and down in an exaggeratedly lascivious way—“is, would you be interested in a foursome?”
    Because the last time the three of them had discussed a foursome in my presence, their conversation had included the words court and time , despite Jenna’s wearing a blue (not white) skirt, I’d just assumed they were playing tennis again. What I hadn’t realized, what hadn’t even occurred to me, was that today they weren’t talking about tennis.
    They were talking about golf.
    If you’ve never held a golf club in your life, you should know that the experience is totally counterintuitive. Holding a tennis racket feels like shaking hands: you wrap your fingers around the racket, and if it feels comfortable, you’re probably doing it right.
    Holding a golf club is exactly the opposite: you hunch over and grab the club with both hands wrapped around it in opposite directions. If it feels comfortable, you’re definitely doing it wrong. “That’s great,” said Jenna, observing my stance. Adam looked over at us. “Wait,” he said. Then he came over to me. “Hold your right hand a little lower.” He reached down and moved my fingers around, and I could feel myself blushing beet red. “Now, pull the club back and swing all the way through, over the horizon.”
    “Okay,” I said, even though I’d been too distracted by his touching me to listen to what he was saying. I lifted the club and felt a weird tension in my lower back, like I was moving a muscle in a way it was never meant to move. Then I looked up at the horizon and swung with all my might.
    “That was good, that was good,” said Jenna enthusiastically.
    I looked around to see how far I’d hit the ball. It was nowhere in sight. I felt a surge of warmth and excitement. Maybe I was some kind of golf natural—could I have gotten a hole in one on my first try?
    Lawrence nodded his approval. “Good swing,” he said. “Good form.” I got the sense he took the game of golf pretty seriously; when Jenna had suggested that I try one of his clubs since they were the lightest set, he responded as if she’d offered me a pair of his underwear—more specifically the pair he was currently wearing.
    Adam knelt down and