Personal Foul

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Personal Foul Page 3

by Hayley Faiman


  “You need to change,” he grunts. I look down at my dark wash skinny jeans, oversized cream sweater, and plain black pumps, wondering why on earth I would need to change. Then he opens his mouth to explain. “I told all the guys that my girl was hot. You look like you’re going out to the movies in that shit, not a party.”

  I press my lips together, in an effort not to cry, and turn away, walking toward my closet. I don’t know what I expect to find in here. I don’t own anything sexy. I’m not that person. I never have been.

  I’m jeans and tees, loose and flowy, nothing too tight and nothing to draw attention to myself. I don’t like having attention on me, anyway. It makes me feel like my mother, who always had to have attention on her.

  “Babe,” he murmurs against my back as his hand slips around my waist, from beneath my sweater.

  “Please don’t,” I whisper as I reach for my hangers and try to find something to wear.

  He releases me and takes a step back with a grunt. “We haven’t fucked since we’ve been here. What the fuck is going on with you?” he asks accusingly.

  I don’t tell him that I haven’t seen him at all, and in order to have sex you kind of have to be in the same room. I just reach for the plain black dress I’ve been wearing to work and hurry out of my comfortable clothes to wear this instead.

  It’s a short, black, cotton dress with three-quarter length sleeves. It fits me more snug than anything else I own, showing off my body, but the cotton is soft and stretchy. I switch out of my high heels and slip on a pair of flat sandals.

  “No makeup?” Trent asks, arching a brow. My hair is long and naturally wavy, so I didn’t do a thing to it but brush it, and the only makeup I have on is clear lip gloss. I don’t like makeup, and he knows it. “Fine, fuck it, you already made us late,” he grunts.

  I watch him walk out of my room, and I hurry after him, wondering how I made him late. I don’t say anything, as always, to avoid any argument that could ensue. We haven’t seen much of each other, and I want tonight to be fun, or as fun as it can be, seeing that it’s a party and I don’t really care for them.

  When we arrive at the house, it’s completely full of people, and I wonder how on earth this will be even remotely fun.

  It’s hot and sweaty and smells like weed, beer, and body odor. Trent yells as we arrive, and a few people give him high fives as he guides me toward what looks like beer kegs.

  “Your girl want one?” the guy behind the keg asks as he fills up Trent’s plastic cup.

  I open my mouth to politely decline, though I don’t wish to be a party pooper, I prefer not to drink.

  “No, she don’t drink,” Trent announces for me. The guy laughs as he hands Trent his cup.

  We walk around the house, and Trent talks to almost everyone. I wonder how on earth he knows this many people. I still only know him, Ines, and a few of my co-workers.

  As the night progresses, Trent’s one beer turns into eight, then ten, and he’s stumbling around, drunk off of his ass.

  “Trent, don’t you think we should head out?” I ask softly when he comes back with beer cup number eleven.

  “Party’s just getting started, babe,” he chuckles as he grabs a handful of my ass. I try to push his hand off of me, but it doesn’t budge. “You’re mine, Jessa. I wanna grab your ass, I’ll grab your fuckin’ ass,” he growls into my ear.

  Sober Trent isn’t the nicest, gentlest guy in the world, but drunk Trent is a raging asshole. He’s too rough and demanding, not caring about anybody but himself.

  I stand next to him, painfully uncomfortable with his hand on my ass for the world to see. He knows how I feel about public groping, another thing my mother did and I didn’t like.

  I’m thankful when the party starts to disperse a few minutes later. Trent and I walk back to his dorm— well, he stumbles and I try to hold his heavy body up.

  Once we’re finally in front of his door, I use his key to open his room and try to help him to bed. Instead, he just falls to the floor with a moan.

  “Does this every fucking night,” his roommate grunts from his bed. I look up to a guy I’ve only met once, Cheston, and give him a grimace.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

  He shrugs. “Why are you apologizing for his big dumb ass?” I open and close my mouth a few times and try to come up with an explanation, but I can’t. “You’re too good for him, Jessa. He’s only going to keep you down.”

  I leave Trent snoring on his dorm room floor, relieved that I won’t be the object of his affection the whole evening and that he’s had enough that he’s completely comatose. I hurry back to my room, wishing for nothing other than my warm bed and soft pillow. I’m exhausted.

  THERE’S POUNDING ON the door, and Ines mumbles from beneath her covers as I sit up. I look at my phone and notice that it’s eight in the morning. I’ve been asleep less than five hours, and I groan as I climb down my bed and walk over to the door. I open it only to have a hand push me back. I fall straight to my ass, completely off balance, and look up and into the angry eyes of Trent.

  “You fucking left me last night. Shit, Jess, you’re a cunt,” he growls. I open my mouth to say something, but he reaches down and grabs me by my upper arms.

  Picking me up off of the floor, he gives me a shake. It isn’t extremely hard, but it hurts my neck, making it snap. “How in the fuck are you this fucking goddamn stupid?” he murmurs.

  I have never seen Trent behave this way before. I am groggy and tired, but confused as hell. He’s never been this rough with me, or this angry. I mean, sure I irritate him, but this, this is completely out of the ordinary for him.

  “What?” I breathe.

  “Babe, haven’t seen you in a while, needed to get my dick wet, why do you think I even asked you to come? Not like you’re the life of the fuckin’ party,” he states as he sets me down roughly.

  I close my eyes and let out a shaky breath as I press my thighs together to keep my legs from trembling too hard.

  “I’m sorry, Trent,” I murmur the lie. I’m not sorry. His eyes soften a tad.

  He wraps his hand in the back of my hair. “You can make it up to me by letting me come down your throat,” he chuckles.

  I hear Ines gag beneath her covers, and I try to keep my face a mask instead of giggling at her response. I feel the exact same way about it. He’s irrational, though, and no way would I do something to trigger another crazy outburst from him.

  “You workin’ today?” he asks, much calmer than he was a few minutes ago, his mood slowly beginning to change.

  I shake my head and tell him that I don’t start weekends until next weekend, but that I needed to get some homework done for both of us tonight. He grunts as his hand wraps around my waist and tugs me against his body. He smells like stale beer, and I try my hardest not to gag in his face.

  “Do your homework and shit during the day. Tonight, you’re mine,” he growls.

  Nodding I tell him, okay, and he turns and sways as he walks out of my door, slamming it behind him.

  “God, he’s a fucking dick, Jessa. I’m sorry. I know I said I would keep my mouth shut, but damn, he’s a douche,” Ines announces as she sits up from her bed.

  Her long dark hair is a mass of messy wild, and her makeup from the night before is all smudged beneath her eyes. She’s still pretty, and I kind of don’t like her for that. Who the hell looks that pretty after being out all night, and not taking her makeup off? “I think we’ve known each other long enough. You can tell me why in the fuck you stay with that asshole.”

  I climb back up to my bed, needing the distance and solitude as I tell my tale. I decide to tell Ines everything. From my childhood, to my mother leaving, to moving in with Trent’s family.

  Once I start, I can’t stop, and I even let a few tears leak as I explain why I can’t leave him, not ever. I owe his family far too much to ever walk away from him, from us.

  “So because his parents cared for you, you think you deser
ve to be treated like shit by their spoiled ass brat of a kid?” she asks.

  “You don’t understand. Without them, I would have been put into foster care, sent god only knows where. It’s not like our town had a lot of people willing to take in a teenager,” I explain.

  Ines shakes her head and runs her hand through her hair. “I don’t understand your situation because I’ve never been there. But, Jess, he’s abusive, and he’s only going to get worse as the years go by,” she whispers. “I do know what it’s like to not have a parent. My mom is a single mom, and my dad has never been around. I don’t even remember him. So, I guess, I understand your need for his family, but you shouldn’t just take what he gives you. You are not his punching bag.”

  “That’s the first time he’s ever grabbed me like that.” I lamely defend.

  “Trust me, Jess. My oldest sister was married to a guy just like him. It started small. He told her what to wear and how to wear it, and not in a very nice way. He made her feel like shit, and eventually started treating her like she was less than him. Then he started hurting her. The first time he hit her, he apologized, even cried, and she forgave him. A couple months later, he did it again, and then it slowly turned into a weekly thing, and it was her who was apologizing for making him hurt her. You’re my friend, I’d never want to see you go through that, no matter how nice his parents are,” she says. I can’t help the tears that well in my eyes.

  Trent has gotten worse throughout the years, and I’ve done everything to keep him complacent. He’s angrier, drunker, and meaner than he was when we were just kids.

  I shake my head and decide to get started on our homework. I think he’ll grow up, eventually—maybe, he just has to get all the partying and stuff out of his system.

  “You’re not going to listen to me are you?” Ines asks.

  I pull out my book to get started and turn to her. “I listened, and I hear what you’re saying. I have it under control,” I lie.

  “I’ll be here as long as you’ll let me,” she states.

  I wonder what she means, but I don’t ask her. I decide to focus on work until Trent comes back.

  I hurry on our papers, finishing them in record time before I move to math and finish both of those assignments as well. Then I do the last paper and rush off to the bathroom to shower and get ready for Trent.

  I decide to wear a pair of shorts and the same loose fitting sweater that I tried to wear last night, hoping the shorts will be something he’ll like.

  I’m just finishing brushing out my hair when he knocks on my door. Ines told me earlier that she wouldn’t be back until late. She was going to one of the eighteen and over nightclubs with a group of girls from one of her classes. It sounded like so much fun, dancing with the girls. She invited me, but I knew I couldn’t go, not after Trent’s little blow up this morning.

  “Hey,” I whisper as he walks into the room.

  “Your roommate get lost for a while?” he asks, looking up to Ines’s made bed.

  I nod as my answer and he closes the door behind him. When he turns back to me, he places his hand on my shoulder and pushes me to the ground.

  “Trent,” I murmur.

  “Fucking that mouth, Jess, open and take it,” he grunts.

  Closing my eyes, I open my mouth. Trent wraps his hand in the back of my hair and holds my head still while he pumps in and out of me.

  Tears fall down my cheeks as I try to breathe out of my nose during his brutal assault. He comes with a shout and I lean back, wiping my mouth, thankful that it’s finished.

  “Take your clothes off. I sure as fuck am not done with you yet,” he orders.

  I quietly take my sweater and shorts off before I pull my panties down and remove my bra. Trent gets naked as well and climbs up my bed. I follow and lie down next to him. We barely fit on the twin bed as we lay our sides facing each other, and I suck in a breath when he reaches out and traces the side of my face.

  “You know I’m under a lot of pressure right now, don’t you?” he whispers. I nod, but I don’t know because we never talk. Luckily, he continues. “My new coach is a fucking dick. He totally has it out for me,” he complains.

  When he complains about coaches or teachers being against him, I always take his words with a grain of salt. Nine times out of ten, he’s earned their irritation. “I’m sorry,” I murmur as I cup his cheek.

  “You always make everything better, Jess. You’re a total buzzkill, but you keep me sane,” he whispers. I feel like shit for thinking so poorly of him. “On your stomach,” he mutters.

  I shift to my stomach and he rolls onto my back, holding himself up a bit. I hear the rustling of the condom wrapper, and after its on, I spread my legs and lift my hips slightly.

  Pinching my eyes closed tightly, I wait for the pain to ebb. He moans, and I let out a breath. I think about all of the things I need to do this upcoming week. I groan when I think about how I’ll be working for the first weekend ever. I need to get a couple new black dresses, and skirts to wear, since my boss said we weren’t allowed to wear pants.

  “Fuck,” Trent shouts. I feel him still behind me. I sigh, thankful that it’s over before I fall to my stomach on the bed. “That was good, babe,” he mutters from beside me.

  I don’t respond. I never do. It’s never good, not ever. I’ve heard people talk about how good sex feels, and I wonder if it will ever feel that way for me? I wonder if Trent will ever care if I get off or not? I’ve never had an orgasm, but I want one, and I want someone who wants to give me one.

  “Gotta hit the weight room,” he announces as he starts to climb down the bed. “I got shit to do all day tomorrow, but I’ll be here to go to class Monday,” he announces as he gets dressed.

  I tell him okay, and he waves at me before he closes the door behind him. I find myself alone on a Saturday night. Alone after my boyfriend demanded I be here for him, stayed thirty minutes, then left me.

  I try not to cry, but I can’t stop the tears from flowing down my cheeks.

  COLE

  BRITTANY IS ON top of me, and she’s giving one hell of a show, but it’s doing nothing for me. I shouldn’t have come over tonight. It’s the second time this week. I’d texted her on Tuesday and then she sent me a text a few hours ago.

  “Oh, god, Cole, you have the best dick I’ve ever had,” she purrs. That’s my cue to end things for a good long while.

  I wrap my hands around her hips and pull her down as I thrust up. I feel the walls of her pussy flutter around me, and she lets out her long squeal, which I know means she’s coming. It takes me a little longer to find my release. As soon as I do, I don’t waste a second pulling her off of me.

  “Cole?” she asks in a breathy whisper as she reaches for me.

  “Why’d you call me over here, Britt?” I ask, running my hand through my hair.

  When she doesn’t answer right away, I turn to her. She’s giving me her famous pouty lip. “I thought things were going so great the past few weeks that maybe we could start up again. We’re so good together, Cole.”

  Shaking my head, I let out a groan. “Brittany, I don’t feel that way. We’ve had our moment together, and don’t you remember how often we fought?” I gently explain.

  “I know. I just…”

  “Yeah, honey, I know what you just. I think we need to end this once and for all,” I say softly. She nods as she reaches for me. I take her hand in mine and give it a squeeze.

  “I hope whoever is the one for you, that she appreciates the kind of man you are, and that she deserves you,” Brittany murmurs.

  Shaking my head, I give her a smirk. “Same goes for you, Britt.”

  I leave Brittany’s condo for the last time. I’m thankful that she kept her brand of crazy under control, but that doesn’t mean that it won’t rear its ugly head. She’s known for dramatics. Fucking her is fun, but I don’t want to string her along anymore, not like that.

  JESSA

  IT’S BEEN A week since I’ve seen
Trent, other than in the classes he’s drug himself to, and I’m glad. I shouldn’t be happy that I don’t see my boyfriend. I should want to spend time with him, but he’s such a jerk most of the time. He’s been partying more than he ever has, and he doesn’t even show up to class half of the time. The half that he does make his appearance, he’s drunk or really hungover.

  Today is different though, he’s different. For whatever reason, he’s been sticking to my side like glue since our first class together. I don’t know why and I’m honestly a little afraid to question it.

  “Let’s get some lunch,” Trent announces as he throws his arm over my shoulders.

  Knowing Trent usually prefers to eat off campus, I mentally, count how much money I have in tips and agree. I could do lunch before my last class, my study session and then work. I’ve been working a lot, almost every night, and Friday and Saturday nights my tips were fantastic.

  However, I could use all of the money I can get. I have some things I am going to need to buy in the near future. My scholarship only covers my dorm room and classes, but not books or food.

  My meal plan only covers two meals a day, and I already had breakfast this morning. I usually skip lunch, and then eat heartily at dinnertime.

  Surprisingly, Trent guides us toward the dining hall. I end up with a small sandwich, a fruit cup, and a water, hoping that when they swipe my card I won’t end up with a huge balance due at the end of the month.

  Once I go through the line and pay for my items, I follow him to a table. He’s already sitting with a group of people I’ve never seen before, and he’s talking with them as though he knows them. I sit down next to him and wait to see if he’s going to introduce me, but he doesn’t.

  I start to eat, noticing a few lingering glances from the people around us, but nobody says a word to me. They’re all lost in their own conversations, and I feel like a complete outsider.

  Trent wraps his hand around the top of my thigh and squeezes, causing me to look up at him. He isn’t looking at me. His gaze is fixed across the room. When I follow it, my breath hitches.

 

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