“Mmmmm”

I know I heard that one right.

When the credits started to role I reached for the remote, consequently stirring Spencer from her sleep.  She smiled wide and wiped her eyes.

“Hey sleepy head.  Have a nice nap?”

“I’m sorry Ashley.  I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“Having any interesting dreams?”

“Not that I know of.  Why?”

“Just asking.  What would you like to do now?”  Spencer stood from the couch, unbalanced from the effects of the alcohol and caught her balance against me.

“Well, I’m wide awake now so…should we do dinner?”

“Sounds good to me.  My stomach’s been growling.  We can’t go out though because…well…I know I couldn’t drive.  And you sure as hell can’t.  Order in?”

“No food here?”

“I’ve never learned to cook so you’re shit out of luck if you want a home cooked meal.”  She laughed, rolling her eyes.

“Well I guess we have no other option than to order out.”

We ordered a pizza and I whipped up two more drinks for she and I.  We talked about random things like school and she asked me a lot about living on the road and what it was like to have a famous father.  I asked her all about herself and if us hanging out would be a conflict of interest at work.

“As long as we don’t sleep together I don’t think we’ll have a problem.”  She laughed at her statement, not looking up to see the amused look on my face.  I can’t say that I hated the idea but having never been with a girl I shouldn’t be too cocky.

“I would think I could earn a good amount of extra credit that way.  I’ll remember that towards the end of the semester.”  She couldn’t stop laughing hysterically, leaned up against me.  “Good lord girl, are you okay.  I know I’m funny, but I don’t know if I’m that funny.

“Sorry it’s just that I’m…whew…I’m really tipsy.  I haven’t drunk alcohol in several years.”

“Oh shit.  Had I known that I wouldn’t have made them so strong.  I’m used to making drinks for older guys.”

“Hey!  I can handle my alcohol!”

“Sure you can.”  I rolled my eyes.  She smacked my arm.

“So have you had guys all over you yet?”

“No.  I’m not looking.  I’d like to think most guys can get that vibe off me.”

“Guys are stupid.  They don’t get ‘vibes’.”

“Good point.  So are you like one of those man-hating lesbians?”

“Not hating.  I just don’t have anything in common with guys.  I’m indifferent.  I can get along with them fine.”

“But you are a lesbian then?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty confident in that one.  So you’re what?  A-sexual?”

“Me?  Hell no.  I just haven’t found anyone that is good enough I guess.  I’m definitely not a-sexual or anything.  I’m not into labels.”

“Cliché.”

“Excuse me!”

“That’s a cop out.  You have to be something.  ‘I’m not into labels’ is a way to avoid answering the question.  It’s okay though…that’s what I used to tell myself. “

“You think I’m some kind of lesbian or something?”

“Or bi-sexual.  I haven’t got you figured out yet.”

“And how do you draw that conclusion?”

“Gaydar.”  I couldn’t help but laugh.  Things just got a little bit more interesting with my new friend Spencer.