“You idiot! You moron! You stupid brainless dolt!” He’s waiting for me outside the loft building that houses Gamma Kappa and a few other NYU frats. “She was a call girl.” “That’s even worse!” he howls. “You had guaranteed action and you blew it.” “I didn’t blow it. I walked away. I don’t take anything from my father’s business.” “But can’t you make an exception for this?” “This goes double. When I think back to my first time, it’s going to be something real, not something bought and paid for.” That gives Alex an idea. “If she’s getting paid anyway, maybe I could head over there and go in your place.” “Don’t give me that,” I scoff. “You couldn’t do it either.” He looks pained. “I know. I just can’t stand to see it go to waste. It’s like you’re starving, but there’s this beautiful twelve-course dinner prepared by the top chefs of Europe, and you have to say, ‘No, thanks.’” I award him a friendly slap on the back.
