“You watch porn? Since when?”

“Since…a while ago.” She pulled out her phone. “PornMD.com.”

“No, no, no.” I took her phone and shook my head. “You have to use pornhub.com. It links to all the best sites, and its way better organized.” I typed up the website. “What category do you normally watch? Amateur?”

“Hardcore, actually.”

“You’re kidding me...”

“I’m not.” She looked genuine. “We watched a ton of them at Lisa Jane’s party last month. I watch them like twice a week now. I think I might be addicted.”

“A virgin addicted to porn?” I rolled my eyes. “I think I’ve heard it all now. You’re just going through a phase.”

She scooted close to me as I hit play on a video: “Double D Lila Gets Pounded by Huge Cock.”

“Of all the videos you could’ve picked…” She sighed.

“This was under the hardcore category, thank you very much.” I turned up the volume.

Onscreen, there was no attempt to even create a storyline. The blond model stripped out of her white T-shirt and spread her legs atop a desk as a guy wearing a “Vitamin D” shirt stroked his cock a few times.

“Can’t wait to pound that pussy, babe,” he said, winking at the camera. “You have such a beautiful and slick pussy.”

Ari and I laughed.

Vitamin D grabbed Lila’s hips and bent her over a chair, slapping her ass a few times before slipping his cock inside of her.

“Do you think her boobs are real?” Ari tilted her head to the side as Lila’s breasts bounced up and down, as Vitamin D pounded into her again and again.

“Nope. They’re silicone. See how the skin around the boob doesn’t move? How they keep their perfect too-good-to-be-true shape? It’s definitely silicone.”

“That is hands-down, the worst explanation I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s the truth. Next time you take a shower just jump up and down in the mirror and compare how your boobs—what little you have of them anyway, move compared to hers.”

“I’ll definitely let you know. What about her butt?”

“Arizona! Carter!” Her mom called up the steps and I exited the site, handing the phone back to Arizona. “Both of you come down here and help me put up the groceries! And yes, Carter, you’re required to help since you eat your fair share of them every week!”

I rolled out of bed and pulled her up.

“Okay, wait. I have a confession,” Ari said, crossing her arms. “I’m insanely jealous that you had sex before me. There. I said it.”

“I’d be jealous, too.” I laughed. “But you want that whole Prince Charming-stars-in-your-eyes fantasy for your first time, remember?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Just keep watching porn until you find the right guy in real life, and you better tell me when it happens.”

“I will.” She opened the door. “Always.”

“But if it doesn’t happen, I can always give you a sympathy fuck…That’s what a true best friend would do.”

She slapped the back of my head and pushed me out of the room. “If we ever did sleep together, I would be the one giving you a sympathy fuck…”

Track 8. Both of Us (4:21)

For the past few years, I’ve honestly tried my hardest to land a female best friend: Somebody I could get my nails done with, somebody I could talk to while obsessively discussing every detail of a date gone bad, and somebody I could point out a hot guy to and say, “Hey…I wonder how big his cock is…” with no judgment whatsoever.

Yet, every time I tried, one of three things happened:

1) The trial-BFF wanted to bring Carter everywhere with us just to get close to him, not me.

2) She was only using me for something school-related. (I still felt violated by trial BFF Carla, who apparently only wanted to be my study partner because I brought home-baked snacks to every all-nighter… “No snacks, no friendship”)

3) She turned out to be Nicole, the girl who was currently standing in front of my full-length mirror.

Dressed in a thin white dress that stopped mid-thigh and left little to the imagination, she was flat ironing her hair for the umpteenth time, making sure it was absolutely perfect…for a house party.

We’d met in one of my business classes last year, and I thought it was such a good sign since we had the same boring major in common. Until she dropped out a month later and told me, “I was only taking that class to get close to that football player. Did you know he’s going pro in the fall?”

Still, I clung to our fast-flame friendship—texting her small bits about my life, asking for hers in return. We did meet up to get our nails done every other weekend, and she never did judge me when I said, “I wonder how big his cock is…” because she wondered, too. But that’s where her potential BFF qualities ended.

Even though she was nice and gave pretty sound advice from time to time, she was always flaking on me at the very last minute, always meeting some new guy she “had to experience.” If we hung out for something other than nails or drinks, that usually just meant parties. No studying. No late night obsessive chats about guys. (I mean, although I could tell Carter anything and everything, I still wanted someone who could better relate from a female point of view).

“Why am I still trying?” I muttered under my breath.