My friend Charlie claims to be the relationship type, but what he won’t tell you, is that he isn’t really the loyal type.  Every time I meet a new girlfriend of Charlie’s, I always think the same thing: “you poor girl”.  Typically I’m doing this while gritting my teeth to bear a smile and shaking her hand; I would ever actually voice it. 

Charlie and I grew up in the same neighborhood during middle school and much of high school, but didn’t get to know each other until the summer I had graduated and he had returned from his first year of college at NYU.  And when I say “get to know each other”, I mean in the sexual way.  Throughout high school I scoffed at the girls that came around to give themselves up to him, like some sort of sacrificial service.  They would be at his dispense for the night, and immediately expect a follow up from him.  Whether it was a phone call, a casual outing to get breakfast tacos, or an expression of romantic feelings, those girls waited on their toes to take what they could get.  But Charlie never gave those girls what they wanted.  For many guys, this recurrence would be a nightmare, but not for Charlie.  He had a way with words, and with no effort at all, he managed to cheer these girls up enough to willingly hook up with him all over again. 

When Charlie moved from Texas to New York, he vowed to begin a new life.  This was his chance to have a clean slate.  Although I was only starting my senior year of high school when he left for college, I knew Charlie would meticulously attempt to establish a good reputation among his east coast peers.  He occasionally kept in touch with those of us still back home, as well as his friends that were in college elsewhere, and when he did, he stressed how much college had changed him.  He said he had grown up, he had seen the light.  He made himself out to be as new and pure as a born again Christian.   

But I never believed this.  Not for a moment.  During the first week of summer we spent together, we had sex three times.  Three times doesn’t seem like very much in reference to horny teenagers, but the number’s magnitude increases with the fact that he was my ex boyfriend’s best friend.  I’m not a guy, but even I know that violates man law.  We had to be sneaky about our affair, or else both of us would have to suffer the wrath of my ex.  The sexual tension between us was obvious to anyone with vision, but none of our friends imagined that I would go through with something so scandalous.  We managed to keep things under wraps until we went our separate ways for school.  It was difficult for me to leave him, but I refused to let him be under the impression that I was like those other girls.  Things were going to be different for him this time around.