r u l e # 4

Rule #4 Be honest right from the start

Remember how as a kid, your parents told you that if you were good, you'd get a Popsicle at the end of the trip to the supermarket? Turned out you weren't that good, you bickered with your sister and chased around the aisles, and your parents decided that you shouldn't get a reward.

That made you seriously pissed. Yes, they never promised, they said if you were good, but the problem is they already had the image of a dripping, rainbow-colored Popsicle imprinted in your brain.

That's the number one thing to be avoided in a strictly physical relationship--vague promises. There's no "let's just see how it goes". There's no "it's complicated". There's no grey area, mixed signals, false advertising, and never guess and assume.

Put all the romantic thoughts in a box, close it, tie a ribbon around it if you must, and then burn it.

......

Jake glanced up at the cloudless sky. It was a beautiful weekend, and he was at a park shooting hoops with his buddies Dylan and Sean. They were all varsity basketball players in their senior year, and even though the season was over, it seemed they played more frequently than ever.

It wasn't because he liked basketball that much. It was mainly due to that one, Sean was brutally dumped and Jake wanted to keep him company and two, he had nothing better to do anyway. Ever since he screwed Jessica--or rather, Jessica screwed him--he hadn't had the chance to meet her despite how he desperately wanted to.

He had tried arranging another rendezvous. Jessica had said she was busy, in that infuriating "sorry, bro" tone, without offering any other explanation or the option of rescheduling.

Beside him, Dylan pulled out his phone from his Adidas duffel bag. He swiped a finger through the screen and cussed. "Eight missed calls? I played for half an hour and there's eight missed calls?"

"It'd save you a lot of trouble if you just told her what your plans were." Sean unscrewed his water bottle and took a gulp. "She doesn't know where you are so she worries."

"I don't need permission on what I do," Dylan said, "and she's not worried. She's just calling to check up on me because she doesn't trust me. I haven't cheated in eight months."

"You deserve a badge," Sean said dryly.

Dylan jabbed at his phone multiple times as if it would speed up the dialing.

This reminded Jake of why he never wanted a relationship. Too much hassle comes with it whether you're in or out, like a storm; it makes you moody, scared, and blinds you during the course, and leaves behind all kinds of wreckage once it's over.

Dylan was always complaining, and Sean was now in constant sorrow suffering from the aftermath. Jake was, however, happy as a seal sunbathing on the shore, and he searched the park to see if there was any girl worth ogling at.

Today there were no girls. There was only a preteen boy practicing by himself, and doing a lousy job at it, too. He took a shot and missed by about a mile. The ball rolled over towards Jake, like it pleaded to be in better hands.

Jake picked it up. "Here you go, buddy. Just a friendly reminder. You might want to keep your elbow in when you shoot."

The young boy failed to catch the ball. He mumbled a quick thank you as he scrambled after it. He straightened himself and turned back, a frown etched between the eyebrows, almost like an apology. "What do you mean?"

"You shoot with your elbows sticking out and that affects your accuracy. Your shots always go to the left."

The boy seemed puzzled. Jake walked on court and stopped at the three-point line.

"Here, let me show you." He was feeling charitable enough to demonstrate. The ball left his hands, fell through the hoop, and made a delightful swishing sound as it passed. It was easier than unhooking a bra.

The boy looked at Jake as if he just saw boobs for the first time in his life. "That's...wow. Can you coach me?"

Jake glanced back at his friends, who were picking up their things and getting ready to go.

"Please?" The boy sounded like his life depended on it. He reminded Jake of a cartoon character; harmless, cute, but not to be taken seriously. "I'm trying to make the school team. I've already tried twice."

He couldn't relate to that in the slightest. He not only played varsity for years but had also always been a starter, even when he was just a freshman. Basketball should be about teamwork, but he was treated like a nuclear weapon: just drop him on court and he'd take care of the rest.

But as mentioned earlier, he had nothing better to do and no girlfriend to meet up with.

"Please please please please."

So he stayed. He started with the basics and was stuck at basics, but at the end of the next hour, the kid, Russell, was watching him with fire in his eyes like a burning forest. What the kid lacked in skills he made up for with great energy.

"You're so nice!" Russell said. "You're the nicest cool person I've ever met."

No one had ever told Jake he was nice. He was usually described as funny, smooth, hot, or popular. If he heard the word nice from a girl, he'd almost think of it as an insult.

However, coming from Russell, he liked it.

He liked it enough to agree to coaching him again.

The kid gave him his home number and made him repeat it twice, making sure he got down all the digits, then asked him to say it again backwards. Just to be safe.

Jake flashed his good-natured grin. "Relax, buddy. I'll be here next week."

......

He had every intention of keeping his promise, he really did. But when it was time to leave for the park, a fresh text on his phone came in with a set of much more inviting numbers.

Jessica wanted to meet at the hotel again, same room, number 2046.

It didn't take two seconds for him to deliberate. He left a quick message on the answering machine when no one picked up at Russell's house, and headed straight to room 2046 and dove into the mystic river called Jessica.

She was as alluring and as private as the last time. When Jake asked if she had ever been in a relationship, she only stressed that she had no intention of starting one. She liked what they were right now.

Which was nothing, Jake understood.

He hated the role he was being casted as. He was supposed to be thinking of ways to throw her out of bed, yet he was grasping wildly at the chance of a conversation, just because she was guarded like a bank vault. He was the damsel in the folktale Bluebeard; of all the rooms in the château, he just wanted to open this door simply because it was locked.

"I can tell you a story," Jessica said. They lay in bed together, two feet apart, and her voice flowed melodically through the room, leaving faint traces of warmth behind.

She told him that in ancient China, two countries were at war, Yue and Wu. The king of Yue lost the battle and was imprisoned in Wu for many years, during which he constantly reminded himself of the humiliation by sleeping on wooden sticks at night and tasting bitter bile before every meal. He was released eventually, and in order to avenge himself, he asked his minister Fan to search for beautiful women.

They were to be offered to the king of Wu as tributes.

Minister Fan suggested his own lover, West, who was rumored to be so beautiful that when she washed silk chiffon by the river, all the fishes would be intimidated by her beauty and swim away in shame. West learned to sing, dance, and seduce, successfully diverting the King Wu's attention to herself when he should be focusing on ruling the empire instead. He executed his most loyal ministers and spent an astronomical amount of money on building a palace for West.

It wasn't a surprise that King Yue defeated King Wu at the next battle. After the victory, Minister Fan asked for no fortune or glory.

He just wanted West back.

Together they spent the rest of their lives together roaming on a fishing boat and were never to be seen again.

"That's a very strange love story indeed." Jake was thoroughly baffled. "This Fan guy basically pimped out his girlfriend, she went along with it, and they managed to get rid of all hard feelings in the end and lived happily ever after."

"Back then people were taught to sacrifice anything for the country. West was treated as a weapon."

"Yes, but shouldn't her boyfriend want to protect her from all that?"

"I guess they know how to separate sex and love completely." Jessica shrugged. "It's not that hard."

This was more than a story on Jessica's part, Jake realized. It was a statement.

......

He arrived at the park two hours late. Before he could search for Russell, a girl came hurtling towards him like a cannonball of fury.

"Are you Jake Lancaster?" she said. It sounded more like an accusation than an inquiry.

"Yes--"

"Well you're a massive jerk," the girl snapped.

Jake didn't appreciate being insulted for no reason at all. He didn't know this person and assumed she was friends with one of the girls he had sex with; for some reason it was always the friend that was angrier. They judged him with all their self-righteousness and called him every name they could think of, acting as if they were victims to a crime.

"And you are?" His lips parted into a cocky sneer. "Have we slept before?"

"What?" Her voice jumped up an octave. "Of course not!"

"Well usually girls don't start calling me a jerk until after they sleep with me."

Her face flushed. Jake found time to notice that she was quite pretty once she got some color in her cheeks.

"What are you talking about?" She crossed her arms. "You're a jerk because you made a promise to my brother and completely stood him up."

"You're Russell's sister?" Jake squinted at her. The only similarity between them was the light ash blonde hair. She looked years older.

She nodded, her ponytail jumping behind her head like a small furry animal. "There's a large gap, yes. He's ten and I'm eighteen."

She reminded Jake of Emily, who was five years older than he was and an extremely caring sister. They had an abundance of code words and secret signals between them so that they could communicate freely in front of the enemy/parents. As a kid he got into all kinds of trouble and could always count on her to cover for him. Whenever he got busted, she'd jump right to his defense. When he wasn't allowed to have dessert after dinner, she always passed him her share.

She was also the person who pressed the first condom in his palm and asked him to be safe.

Jake had a particular liking for protective sisters, even when they were mad at him. "I didn't mean to disappoint him," he said. "I was all set to go, but something came up so I had to call your house to cancel. You must've already left. I came here as soon as that got sorted, but you have to understand that people are allowed to have emergencies."

She didn't need to know that the so-called emergency was a sexual one, of course.

Her eyes softened, like dimming a lamp. They were now gentle behind a thin veil of worry. "Oh. I didn't know that. Is everything okay?"

Jake nodded.

"I'm very sorry," she said. The light in her eyes shifted further. "It's just that I get very protective where Russell is concerned. He really looks up to you and he's been looking forward to meeting you all week. You should see the way he talks about you, like you're a celebrity, and when you didn't show up I just assumed you're one of those privileged kids that don't care about other people's feelings. I'm sorry. I'm the one who didn't stop to consider that you had your own life, too. You're right and I'm wrong."

The sincerity was palpable in her voice, and Jake smiled to cover up his embarrassment. "Don't worry about it. I'm sorry too. I got defensive and asked you a very rude question. I'm not like that usually, I swear."

She seemed to remember the rude question, and she looked down to avert his gaze. "Uh, well, anyway, like I was saying," she started, stammering slightly in the beginning but quickly picking up speed. "Russell has trouble fitting in at school. He already tried twice for the basketball team, and he really wants to make it this time. He's convinced that he'll have a better life if he gets in, no matter how many times I try to tell him to relax. After meeting you he just doubled up his enthusiasm. He thinks playing basketball will make him as cool as you are."

If only Jessica could be a little more like this cute rambler, Jake thought. Just a tiny bit would be enough.

"See, that's where he's wrong," he said. "Playing basketball doesn't make me cool. I make playing basketball cool."

She laughed. It made her go up from eight point five to a solid nine. "I'm sure. My name is Charlotte, by the way. Russell is going to be so excited when he comes back and sees you! He went to get us Popsicles. We both really love them. Every time we went to the park, we have to finish off with Popsicles. Am I talking too much? "

"I don't mind."

"I always ramble when I'm nervous, and I'm very nervous now, I must admit. I was prepared to give you a lecture on credibility but now that I realize you have a good reason, my brain isn't functioning correctly and I can't shut up. If you don't interrupt me I can go on forever. Please interrupt me now. Say something."

Jake smiled. "I'd like to practice with Russell again," he said. "He doesn't have a cell phone but you do, right? If I can't make it next time, I'll call you."

He handed over his phone and asked her to punch in her number.

"Uh, you already have a Charlotte in your phone."

"You can save your number as Char. Can I call you that?" He was just being friendly. She seemed like a sweet girl and she amused him. He liked her, in a platonic, casual, I-like-summer sort of way.

"Yes, sure, you can call me Char. I like being called Char." Her head was lowered when she typed on the screen, the four letters taking her an eternity, almost like she forgot how to spell.

Jake waited patiently, watching the sun glistening off her hair. In his mind, he turned the ash blonde strands darker, shade by shade, until it looked like a pool of ink.

Do you like Popsicles, Jessica? Are you close with your sister? Do you ever ramble? What makes you nervous?

Charlotte handed his phone back. "Here."

"Thanks, Char."

"Yeah, call me," she said. She uttered a small gasp. "I mean, next time you need to reach Russell to reschedule, or something. If we left the house already. Not that you should call me. Although you can call me too, if you want. I'll stop now."

She closed her mouth, and blushed.

Uh-oh.

***

gorgeous cover made by Rae, thank you so much x