I love Greg, but how much more could I handle feeling like his mother? I didn’t want to take care of him, I wanted to laugh with him. But I was worried. He hadn’t slept in a few weeks and I felt bad for being so rough on him, but I didn’t know how to get through to him. The doorbell rang.

Betsy had been crying but she wasn’t too upset to put on a short skirt and tight sweater. She looked like a Melrose Place drone, especially with her eyes lightly red and puffy. She wanted to know if I knew anything, if Shirley had talked to me about any of it, which I could honestly say, “No.”

“I don’t think she ever loved me. She sure acted like she did, but when it came down to it, she never said it.”

“Did you love her Betsy?”

A long silence as Betsy wiped her eyes and finally glanced at me, “No, I liked her and loved being around her, but I guess I didn’t. It still hurts though, being rejected and all.”

“Oh yeah, I know. Did she say why?”

“I think there’s someone else.”

“Really? Why do you think that?”

“Fran,” She let her hand drop on my leg. “I don’t know, but maybe I don’t care.” Her hand slid up my thigh and I slipped my hand on her hip then quickly pulled it away. “Don’t stop, please.”

“Betsy, you are...gorgeous. And I can’t deny that I want to touch you.” I stood quickly. “But I have to confess I have feelings for...ah, well, maybe I shouldn’t say who.”

“Do you have any feelings for me at all?”

“I do, I think I do. I don’t know if they’re more than physical because right now at this very moment all I can think about is having both my hands all over you, but I know I have deeper feelings for...for Shirley, Betsy.” I shut my eyes afraid to see Betsy’s reaction. “I don’t blame you if you hate me.” When I opened my eyes Betsy was smiling. “Aren’t you mad? I feel terrible.”

“You mean for stealing my girlfriend?”

“Well, I didn’t steal her.”

“Yes, you did, but I don’t care, because right at this very moment all I want is to have my hands all over you. Don’t you want that?”

I’ve never sighed so loudly, and I said almost sadly, “Yes, that’s what I want.” The door bell rang, “Pizza.” I went to the kitchen to grab my wallet and then answered the door. After paying and tipping, I turned around and Betsy was gone. I put the pizza down and went to where I knew she went. There she sat on the edge of my bed. I leaned against the door frame.

“Aren’t you curious?” She asked.

I tried to think about Shirley, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Betsy. “Yes,” I said, “very.”