After her junior year, Sheri Freeman, a chemistry student, accepts a summer internship with a research institution near the university. Her best friend and roommate, Gail Stinson, returns home for the summer to work. Gail's boyfriend, Melton Dixon, a football player, enrolls in a summer class.
Sheri accepts an invitation from Melton to a teammate's party, resulting in a sexual explosion between the two. Sheri spends her days in the lab conducting experiments and her nights in bed exploring her sexuality with her best friend's boyfriend. Will the sexual heat generated by Sheri and Melton destroy a friendship?
During my first three years at North Carolina Central University in Durham, North Carolina, Gail Stinson and I were best friends and roommates. She majored in sociology, and I was a chemistry student. At the end of school our junior year, I received a summer internship at the Research Triangle Institute, so I stayed in Durham. Gail found a summer job in D.C. and returned home.
Several months before the end of the semester, she began dating Melton Dixon, a football player. He enrolled in a summer class and participated in spring practice. Melton and I had taken several classes together over the years. There was nothing between us. I had a boyfriend, and he dated my friend and roommate.
Working in a chemical research laboratory over the summer was exciting, but spending the summer after working eight hours in the apartment alone was boring. When Melton asked me to a party given by one of his teammates, I accepted without hesitation. I saw nothing to be concerned about.
I usually don’t drink, but I’d turned twenty-one three weeks before, and I wanted to celebrate my newfound freedom to consume an alcoholic beverage. My drink of choice was rum and Coke. How many? I don’t know.
Saturday morning I found myself in Melton’s bed in an extra large sweatshirt, wondering what had happened during the night.
There was a knock on the door.
“Yes,” I yelled.
The door opened. Melton stood at the door in his underwear. “Sheri ,are you okay?”
“What happened?” I pulled the sheet tightly around me.
“I brought you here to my apartment. I was afraid of leaving you by yourself.”
“What happened to my clothes?” I noticed I didn’t have on any underwear.
“They’re in the dryer. You puked on them and in my car.”
“And you undressed me?” I felt embarrassed that he’d seen me naked but not about my inability to hold my liquor.
“Don’t worry. I put you in the shower with my eyes closed. I only touched the areas that were necessary to wash the vomit off.” He smiled.
“You allowed me to get drunk?”
“I advised you to stop, and you told me you were twenty-one and to go to hell.”
“You shouldn’t have listened to me.” I was angry at him and myself.
“I didn’t when you told me you wanted to go home with Brian, the team’s quarterback.”
“You are shitting me, right?” I wasn’t like that. I wasn’t a virgin, but I wasn’t a whore. In my three years of college, I’ve had two boyfriends.
“When I saw you and him heading for the bedroom, I followed after ten minutes. I opened the door, and he had his face in a place I don’t want to mention.”
“No way,” I yelled.
“You cussed me out when I pulled him off of you and made you put your panties back on.”
“Okay,” I said, not wanting to hear any more.
“Let me go and get your clothes so you can clean the inside of my car.” Melton left.
Fuck, what has happened to me? I thought. A little alcohol and I’m acting like a whore.
He returned with my clothes. In one hand he held my blue thong and bra.
“I hope I got these cleaned,” he said. “Do you know what crack I had to dig these out of?” He laughed.
“Give me my clothes.” I wasn’t laughing.
“Yes… and one other thing. I would have trimmed your bush, but I couldn’t find my clicker.”
I peeped under my sweatshirt. I did need to trim it up. “My man is thousands of miles away. I’m not worried.”
He left, and I dressed.
After cleaning his car—the odor remained—we went to breakfast.
