by Hite, Nicole
Just as I was laying my fork down, I heard the click clack noise of heels on the hardwood floor.
“Muffin Top, is that you?” Fuuuckkkk. I would know that voice anywhere.
“Hi, Paisley.” My day was going so good too. Why do I feel it’s about to take a landslide down to shitsville?
“Oh. My. God. I almost didn’t recognize you; you’ve lost so much weight,” said Reva, who was evidently still stuck on Paisley’s hip. Just like high school, Reva always seemed to be up Paisley’s ass, and bowed to her every command.
Paisley was the same ole’ Paisley. She still had the same sky-high hairdo with her matching frosted, pink lipstick. How or why she thought that was cute is beyond me.
“I heard you were back in town, but I didn’t think you would be here stuffing your face. Be careful. We may need to reinstate that nickname permanently,” smirked Paisley
“The only thing you’ll be doing permanently, is feeling my boot up your ass if you don’t get the hell out of here, Paisley,” Harley shot back.
“It’s ok,” I said placing my hand on Harley’s arm.
“Paisley, it was so sweet of you to stop by, but if you don’t mind, my girls and I were enjoying a nice quiet breakfast. So if you’ll excuse us we’d like to continue doing just that,” I said with enough sugar to give her a cavity.
“You know, it doesn’t matter how much weight you lose, Carrington. You’ll always be “Muffin Top Mason” in the eyes of everyone in this town including Colton Wilson.”
“Well, bless your heart. Frankly, I was wondering if you knew my real name. Now, if you’ll excuse us, you’re free to leave now,” I said in my deepest southern accent while flicking my wrist in her direction. Paisley stomped away leaving a trail of fire and brimstone. Don’t let that one near water. Sheesh!
●
Climbing into the truck, I felt a sense of pride. I hadn’t gone off on Paisley like I’d always wanted, but it was still gratifying to put her in her place. Her words did sting a bit, but not half as bad as they used to. Maybe she’s right though; Colton will never like me. He will always see me as, “Muffin Top Mason.
“I can’t believe how reserved you were with Paisley,” said Skye.
“No, shit! I would’ve knocked that bitch flat on her boney ass.”
“No you wouldn’t, Harley.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right, but it feels good to know that Paisley thinks I would,” she said with a smile.
“She doesn’t seem like she’s changed at all from high school.” I asked.
“Oh, honey. She is the same ole’ bitch she was in high school. The only difference between high school and now she’s down a wing girl,” Skye added.
“You mean the mean girl posse isn’t a trifecta anymore?”
“Hell no. Sadie jumped ship some time ago. I think she was sick and tired of listening to Paisley’s bullshit. To be honest, everyone was.”
“Good for her. She was always sweet to me no matter what Paisley did or said.”
“Coming back home, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Wanna hear something funny?”
“What’s that,” Skye asked.
“I was convinced Colt and Paisley would have gotten married.”
“Oh, their parents tried, trust me. They went as far as setting them up on a date. Can you believe that shit?” Harley said with a look of disgust on her face.
“Yep. Rumor has it; Paisley made a complete ass out of herself when she tried to kiss him at Valencia’s. He didn’t want anything to do with her. To be honest, aside from Paisley and a few others, I’ve never seen him on a date.”
“Maybe he’s gay,” I joked.
“Oh honey, he is definitely not gay,” Harley added. “At least that’s what Bethany Campbell told me. She went on a date with him about a year after you left, and she said he was hung like a horse. I swear Scout’s honor,” she said holding up her fingers like a Boy Scout.
“At least we know he’s not a virgin,” I said cringing at the thought of when I lost my virginity. If I could take it all back, I never would have let Tad Berkley walk me home from that fraternity party. Hindsight’s twenty-twenty, I guess.
It was no secret; all through high school and college I was committed to studying and getting into Columbia. I had always been the bookworm who never allowed herself the freedom to indulge. Aside from the very few times in high school, I mostly kept to myself when I wasn’t hanging out with Harley and Skye. In college, I ran into the same issues. I couldn’t afford to pay additional years of tuition, so the first go round was my one shot. On move in day I was utterly alone, and left to tour the campus by myself until some of the girls on my hallway empathetically asked me to join them at a fraternity party. Without Harley and Skye as my crutch, this was utterly horrific.
Making up my mind to take advantage of my new school, a new state and no Paisley Parker I decided to submerge myself into the college life. Not having a lot of experience mingling or flirting, I decided I needed a little liquid courage. Great idea, Carr, consider yourself a walking tabloid that screams, “I’m a freshman.” Half in the bag, I walked onto the fraternity dance floor. Getting caught up in the music, I let it take me away. It was the best feeling not having to worry about a damn thing. I could have looked like cookie monster on roller skates for all I knew, but I didn’t care. Swaying to the music, I felt hands on my hips. What the…Ok, I’ll bite. Twisting my head, I noticed it was, actually, a really attractive guy. I remember hearing his name, Tad Berkley, and it immediately made me think of a country club brat, but at the time, I didn’t care.
Tad rocked me back and forth to the music as he rubbed my back and shoulders. This kid was awfully touchy-feely, but who cares. I’ve never had a man even remotely come close to touching me like this. Hot and sweaty, Tad asked if we could go outside to get some air. Willingly, I agreed. We walked over to the sidewalk and sat down. We talked about our hometowns, what we were majoring in, everything and anything, really. I was starting to like this Tad kid. Tad is going to be the guy that gets Colton out of my head, forever. I hope. Maybe if I moved on, it wouldn’t hurt as much knowing he was in Texas, and I was in New York.
Like a gentleman, Tad walked me back to my dorm hand-in-hand. He was sweet, and aside from Colt; I wasn’t used to that. I was so naive. We set up a date for the next night considering there was no way in hell I was going to let him in my dorm room at two a.m. I was still a virgin, and I was completely inexperienced. Having had a lot of alcohol, I didn’t want to experience my first time intoxicated. Tad gave me a kiss on the cheek and left me at the dorm. In my heart, it was hard for me to let go of Colt and move on, but I knew I would never see him again, so I needed to try.
Next night, Tad took me out to dinner. He ordered for me, which I thought was odd, but the again, he was paying the bill, and I was on a budget. When the waiter made his rounds again, he delivered a desert menu. Taking the menu out of my hands, Tad handed it back to the waiter and told him to get the check. Tad was a man in charge, and in a way, I dug it. Then again, there’s dominance, and then, there’s just plain being rude. Brushing it off, he paid the bill, and we walked hand-in-hand back to his apartment.
We settled on a movie and crashed on the couch together. Not even ten minutes into the film, Tad was getting touchy feely. At first I thought it was hot, but he started to get increasingly aggressive. Trying to speak, I pushed him away.
“Tad, can we slow things down a bit? I’m not exactly accustomed to this.”
“Are you saying you’re a virgin?” the question seemed to echo off the apartment walls.
“Yeaaaah,” I said hesitantly.
“No problem, we can take it slow tonight. Want to go to my room? It’s much more comfortable in there.”
“Suuurre,” I squeaked out. I was about to lose my virginity to Tad Berkley, the country club boy from Boston, Mass.
Instead of taking our time to get undressed, Tad ripped off his clothes and began taking off mine. I was all el
bows and knees. I stumbled on my jeans as I was taking them off. Classy, Carr. Classy. I didn’t even have my bra and shirt off when Tad was all over me. Seeing the expression on my face, he started to slow down as if our previous conversation finally set in. Removing my panties he tossed them aside. And, I take that back. This boy has zero self-control. I had never let a boy look at my hoo-ha before, and the thought of him staring straight into the eye of the storm intimidated and petrified me. Instead of taking his time to please me, he put on a condom and just went straight for it. So much for foreplay. Ok. So this is what sex is like. It pretty much sucked dick, and not in a good way. But then again, Tad was not making it special at all for me. Trying to be a little more intimate, I reached up to grab Tad’s face to pull him in for a kiss. He leaned in smashing his lips to mine, but immediately took my wrists and brought them above my head. He kept making these strange, grunting sounds, like he was herding goats with hemorrhoids. I tried everything not to laugh. You have got to be kidding me. At this point I just accepted that this was the single worst, least romantic, first sexual experience I have ever had. I couldn’t be mad at Tad; I wanted it too. I just didn’t think it would be this awkward. I mean, sex is awkward in general, but Tad took it to a whole new level. The look on his face when he climaxed reminded me of a monkey on crack the way it was contorted and strained. Ahhh! What the hell is that face he’s making.
Rolling off me, Tad removed the condom and threw it into his wastebasket. I pulled my panties back on and tugged my jeans up, confused as to what just happened here.
“So I guess you have to get going, chemistry test tomorrow, you know,” he finally piped up. Seriously dude! Could you be more of a prick?
“Yeah, I should get going. Don’t want to flunk my test the first week of school. I’ll call you when I get back to the dorm,” I said unenthusiastic.
“Ok, babe. I had a good time tonight,” he said wiggling his eyebrows like a total d-bag. It took every ounce of my being not to roll my eyes at him.
“Yeah, so did I,” half smiling and wanting to cry.
Finally getting back to my dorm after walking across campus by myself, I removed my shoes in pain. Could this night get any worse? Maybe we could work on the sex part. I mean, maybe it was partly my fault.
Calling Tad was altogether excruciating, “Hey, babe, I made it home ok.”
“Good, good,” he said curtly.
“I was thinking. Wanna hit up that new Thai place on Fifth tomorrow? I heard they have the best pho in town,” trying to make light of the situation.
“I need to study for this history test tomorrow, babe. Maybe Friday?” he responded. My stomach was in knots, and I felt like I was going to vomit. He was blowing me off! What a total and complete, asshat!
“No problem,” I said shortly.
“I guess I should go study. I’ll talk to you later,” I clutched the phone, not wanted to let go. I gripped the phone so hard; my knuckles started to turn an ugly shade of white.
“No problem. Talk later.”
Sitting on my bed in shock, I wanted to cry. Staring into space, I didn’t even hang up the phone. All I could do was sit there in disbelief. That’s when I heard voices.
“What’s up, Brutha? Did you seal the deal yet?” What the fuck!
“Yeah, I put that lard ass to bed as quickly as I could. I was going to stretch out the dating for a while, but I couldn’t stand it any longer. You owe me fifty bucks man!”
“What the hell, dude?” his friend said.
“Yes, ten for being fat, ten for being a book nerd, and thirty for being a virgin. Pay up, sucka!” I wanted to chime in, but words escaped me. I wasn’t a confrontational person, but somehow this felt warranted.
I wanted to curse him out, but who was I kidding. That wasn’t me. I sat there in silence just listening to him talk about how disgusting my body was. How he wouldn’t even let me take off my shirt because he didn’t want to see my stomach. I just lost my virginity to a complete and total fucktard. This was the last time I was going to let a boy distract me from my bigger goals - graduating college and law school.
I saw Tad on campus throughout the years, but never went up to talk to him. He never called me after that night, and frankly, I wouldn’t have picked up if he did. I wish I could have said my first time was magical and fantastic. Filled with sunshine and unicorns, but it wasn’t. I’m not even sure why I had sex with him looking back on it now. I didn’t love him. I didn’t even pretend to like him. I didn’t see the relationship going anywhere. I barely saw it going as far as the front door for crying out loud. Maybe, I just wanted to get Colt out of my head. I could have should-a-could-a-would-a, all night long, but it wouldn’t do any good. What’s done is done. Time to move on.
For the next couple of years, I kept my head low and my nose in a book. I partly thank Tad for being such an ass-clown. Without that experience, I wouldn’t have concentrated all my efforts on college and law school. Who needed a budding social life?
Years later, I did see Tad again. I was the defense attorney for a well-known New York socialite, while he was on the prosecutor’s team. Before the hearing began, he came over to shake my hand as a symbol of courtesy; something he knew nothing about.
“Carr, is that you? You look so…”
“…different,” I finished his sentence.
“Yeah, I mean, you look amazing,” he said looking genuinely stunned.
“Thanks, Tad. You look…good too,” I struggled to find a compliment.
“Hey listen, you wanna grab a drink after this is finished? I don’t think we’ll be here long, seeing as your client is…” he trailed off.
“Is what?” I asked.
“Oh, nothing. Drink?” he asked again walking over to his side of the bench.
“Sure. That sounds great, Tad.”
At that moment, I knew I had to crush this shithead.
After I had stomped all over his ass with my defense, I started to leave the courtroom, but not before stopping to talk to Tad.
“Oh, and, by the way, Tad. I changed my mind about drinks. I just can’t go out with a, what did you call me again, Oh I remember, “Lardass.” You should make sure you end your phone calls before inviting your “Bruthas” over to talk shit about me. And just in case your “Brutha” didn’t pay you that night, here’s fifty,” I said slapping a brand new fifty on the table.
He looked at me slacked jawed, and all I could do was smile my prettiest southern smile. Strutting out the courtroom, I high fived the bailiff, grinning from ear to ear. I felt like I was in a John Hughes film, and it felt fantastic.
Just like that day in the courtroom, I was feeling the same high standing up to Paisley. The adrenaline was coursing through my body, and I could barely sit still in the driver’s seat. Now, do I have the lady balls actually to do something about it?
Chapter 6
A week had passed, and I hadn’t gotten anywhere with Dad’s case. I sifted through his entire library, and still came up empty handed. Every time I thought I was getting somewhere, I had to backtrack quickly. It didn’t help that all I could think about was Colt. He was in my every thought since the night at Ralph’s. I don’t know if I was stubborn or just nervous, but one thing was for certain, I was not calling Colt. Nope. Not going to do it.
Climbing the stairs to my bedroom, I heard the familiar chime of my cell phone. Doing the bunny slipper shuffle, I snatched my phone from my robe pocket. Yep. It was ten a.m., and I was still in my pajamas. Don’t judge. Looking down at the display, I tripped going up the stairs, dropping my phone, but not before doing a face plant. Fuck, that hurt.
Man of My Dreams: Morning, sunshine!
Who the hell is this? I bet its Skye or Harley messing with me.
Carrington: Hilarious, Skye. When did you change your name in my phone?
Man of My Dreams: It’s not Skye.
Ugh ok. Must be Harley fucking with me.
Carrington: Harley, listen hooker, I’m going to ring yo
ur neck.
Man of My Dreams: It’s not Harley. And what’s with the hostility?
What. The. Hell. This is getting weird.
Carrington: No hostility, I just want to know to whom I’m speaking with.
Man of My Dreams: Is the name programmed into your phone not a clue?
The only man of my dreams was Colt.
Carrington: Uhhh…
Man of My Dreams: It’s Colt.
Holy shit! How did he get my number? He programmed his number into my phone not vice versa.
Carrington: You’re awfully presumptuous. How did you get my number, stalker?
Man of My Dreams: Oh, so now I’m a stalker, huh?
Carrington: The first step in overcoming an addiction is admitting you have a problem.