Sophie & Scott

Recently, my friend, let’s call her Sophie (chuckle, because that is her name) said she was wondering about her gorgeous boyfriend, Scott.

Sophie and Scott have been high school sweethearts, it has always been Sophie & Scott, Scott and Sophie.

They did all their firsts together. Kiss. Sex. Alcohol. Uni. Cars. Drugs. Jobs. House. 

It’s always been Scott.

Ever since he sat next to me in the playground at lunch time and said, Hi, I’m Scott. Moments later he held up a sandwich and said, you want a cheese sandwich.”

“How did you know?”

“I just knew,” said Sophie. “Oh, there you are. That is what I thought as I took the cheese sandwich out of his hand.”

Scott has said something very similar. “I just knew it was her. I don’t know why.”

“I used to go watch him play footy.” She smiled. “I could never really take my eyes off how well his shorts fitted him, around the waist and around each thigh.” She blush.

“Well, to be honest,” I said. “I’ve never been able to take my eyes off how well Scott’s shorts fit him.”

Sophie punched me in the arm good heartedly.

They are now in their mid thirties and they have been together for 20 years, just gone.

All their friends, and brothers and sisters, have paired up, separated, and paired up again multiple times and have now got married and started having children and Sophie and Scott have remained girlfriend and boyfriend only with eyes for each other.

Sophie and Scott have been regarded as a sure thing by all those who know them.

Recently, it has crossed Sophie's mind that perhaps something was going on with Scott. Oh, nothing really, but when you have been with someone for so long.

I opened my mull box and pulled out a joint I rolled earlier.

"When you have only been with that one person, like Scott and I, for so long," said Sophie. “I notice even the infinitesimal change in him. And something has changed recently.”

I flicked the lighter and lit the joint. We both gazed out over my back yard.

“What do you think?” I handed the joint to Sophie.

“I don’t know, I’m too scared to ask.”

“But it is Scott.”

“20 year itch?” She shrugged.

“Not Scott.”

She handed the joint back to me. “Why not Scott, he’s a guy.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I dragged on the joint.

“Guys cheat.”

“But it is Scott?” The smoke wafted out of my mouth as I spoke.

“So?”

“I’d feel like he’d cheated on me too,” I said. Sophie and I met in kindergarten. So, in a sense, Scott has always had to answer to me, too.

Sophie lifted her hand and touched my face. “I love you.”

We smiled at each other. I handed the joint back to Soph.

“And what if he has?”

Sophie shrugged. “Can I really expect him never to be with anyone else other than me?”

“Have you been with anyone else?”

“No, only ever Scott.”

“So, why can’t you expect the same of him?”

“How many people have you slept with?” She made a question mark in the air with the joint as she handed it back to me.

“Do you want to sleep with other guys?”

“I asked first?”

“I have no idea. I lost count years ago.”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe?” I spluttered on the joint smoke. Even I heard my incredulous voice.

“In theory,” said Sophie. “I wonder what it would be like?”

“Really?”

“So why wouldn’t I expect Scott to feel the same way.”

“Would you break up with him?” I handed Sophie the joint.

“If he slept with someone else?”

“Yes.”

Sophie took a long drag on the joint. She took her time exhaling the smoke. She shook her head. “No.”