Interrupted Sleeping patterns

I awake in darkness. Why the hell am I awake? Xtian is diving toward the dresser. And now he's talking. What the hell? Who is he talking to. There are voices coming from the living room and then a loud, grating howl. Slowly I wake up enough to realize the phone is ringing. The voice in the living room was the answering maching picking up the call, the howl was the feedback from the phone being too close to the machine as Xtian ran to turn off the inexplicably loud replay.

Still unable to form sentences, I yell "who?" at Xtian. He gives me the name on the caller ID, I realize it's Sarah. She hung up when all the feedback started. Looking at the clock I'm immediately horror struck. If Sarah's calling me at 2 am, something must be wrong so I call her back.

She then gives me a quick synopsis of her night. She just had sex with Capt. America.

Capt. America was in the same early admittance program back in Chico (one of those programs where you get to go to college during your senior year of high school). There were only 30 of us in the programs, so over the year we all got to know eachother pretty well. This is how Sarah and I first met.
You've never met anyone like Capt. America. Sure, we all knew a handful of super-patriotic "can't wait to graduate and join the military" kids in high school. But Capt. America was something else. Every time you looked at him, you could actually see the flag waving behind him. So serious, he almost didn't have a sense of humor. The kid who joined the military and loved every second of it.

When we all met him, he was terrified of girls. Mine was the first breast he ever saw, and I think he was afraid. We spent a lot of time trying to get him to behave as a 17 year-old should: irresponsibly. Sometimes we succeeded and he'd relax a bit, but for the most part, he was an upright, uptight guy who seemed vaguely amused by Sarah and my debauchery. I saw him on Spring Break my freshman year of college. He'd been off travelling the world and training. Not a bad looking guy, but way too cleancut for my tastes. He'd grown up a bit, and was still way too conservative, but we always had lively talks without getting too riled up.

But Capt. America was the opposite of sexy. While I'm not the pinnacle of female attractiveness, I know a certain fact that gives a bit of confidence: Any man will have sex with any woman in the right circumstances. This does hold true the other way around, but that's less what I'm looking for. I must stress the phrase the right circumstances. But knowing this gives me a just enough confidence to walk around with a little overt sexuality. Capt. America does not know this. He has confidence in certain things, but not in his attractiveness to his desired partners. As such, I've always considered him completely asexual.

So, when Sarah called me at 2 am to tell me of her conquest, it was understandable. Lost sleep be damned, how often does an opportunity like that come along?

Rock on Sarah. Rock on.