“I don’t know, she’s hammered. There’s no way she can drive like this.” They don’t realize I can overhear them. I’m curious what else they’ll say about me.
“I guess you guys can crash on the couch or something.” They’re talking about where we’ll stay tonight. I’m assuming our host wasn’t planning on housing us for the night. If I had known I might not have drank so much. I’m too drunk to care, but in the morning I’m sure I’ll experience the weight of my shame.
I stumble out of the bathroom and head into the kitchen. They catch me trying to finish the jello shot and they stop me, hiding all the booze. Sadie runs into the bathroom and now Adam crowds me in the tiny space.
My temperature has sky-rocked from the booze. I’m tired from the booze, but I’m horny from the booze.
I pinch my right eye closed as I fumble with my phone because I think in my drunken state I can see more clearly this way. “You look really pretty.”
My head snaps up at the voice and my vision blurs further. I glance around, but my friend is still in the bathroom and Adam has boxed me in.
“Me?” He nods and eyes me from head to toe.
Our third party opens the bathroom door. He takes my hand and leads me into another room. Sadie will think we went outside and come searching for us. My palms are sweating. My heart is racing. I’m like a bad version of an Eminem song.
He steps into my space and I back up against a wall. We have mere seconds before our friend finds us. His hips meet mine and I open my mouth to make breathing easier. I’m transparent and loud. I’m sure Sadie can hear me from inside the bathroom.
He touches my hips. “I’ve wanted you from the first day I saw you.” He’s older than Aiden and he has a girlfriend. He’s cute, but he’s also, technically, my boss. What is wrong with me?
He kisses me and I kiss him back, fisting his shirt in my palms. “Where are you guys?” Footsteps thump toward us. She’s coming closer. Three. Two.
“Oh, shit, sorry.” We were too slow. She saw us. Fuck. Now what?
Adam takes that as a green light. We were already spotted why stop now? He keeps kissing me, groping me. I’m numb. My head is a broken record repeating one word over and over again: Aiden.
The guilt swallows me whole. I need to forget about him. Is this my way out?
He leads me to his bed. I lie down on it and allow him to crawl on top of me. “I want you so bad.” He grinds into me and I don’t fight it. I don’t even move.
He kisses me, kisses my neck, touches my breasts. Sadie is mere feet away and we’re not being quiet. The room is dark but my heart in this moment is darker. It’s cold, black, dead. I feel nothing; I’m empty. I have nothing to give.
He’s trying, trying, trying. He can’t get hard. It’s my one saving grace. Thank God for whiskey dick. Yet, I’m embarrassed. Am I not good enough for him? Does he not think of me that way?
I fall asleep beside him in bed and it’s a restless night. I get about three hours of sleep and his bedside alarm goes off at six. I’m sober and so fucking embarrassed. I roll out of his bed without saying a word, ready to drive Sadie back to the mall so she can hop on the bus home.
I don’t even say goodbye as I wait for Sadie outside and she follows me down to my car. I put on my sunglasses and do my best to forget tonight ever happened, but my friend won’t let me off without spilling the dirty details.
“You have a huge hickey on your neck,” she points it out and laughs. Could this day get worse? I don’t even remember that happening. “Fill me in. What the hell happened last night? I heard some things…” she side-eyes me and yep, there it is, the shame.
“Then you know we didn’t have sex. He kissed me and that was it.” It’s a stretch as far as the truth goes, but it’ll have to do. Plausible deniability and all that.
“You slept in his bed.”
I shrug. “He didn’t kick me out. Better than sleeping on the floor.” I don’t think she believes me but there’s no proof. And, plus, nothing did happen.
But one thing is for certain—I have to tell Aiden. If I want another chance and want to pursue a future, then I have to tell him about this. It’s just not a conversation I’m looking forward to. Not in the slightest.
25
The Story of Us
When did you become such a slut? You’re spiraling out of control.
That’s not a text I would have ever in a million years thought I’d wake up to. My shitty ex-boyfriend Dan decided the first thing he would do this morning verbally abuse and slut-shame me. Tell me again why I dumped him?
I sit up in my bed, smacking my forehead on the godforsaken wooden frame of the top bunk. As if I need a headache added to my problems of today.
What the hell is he talking about? How does he even know anything? Didn’t he think I was a slut before when I cheated on him and told him all about it? That’s the worst thing I could’ve done in terms of our relationship and I did it without a second thought.
Does he think I’ll feel bad about myself now? Newsflash, I already do, Dan. Nothing he could say would ever affect me the way he’d want it to and now he’s lashing out to be nasty. He needs to grow up.
Thanks! I want that on my tombstone.
Fucker. I hope he likes my response. I have to ask how he has any idea about what I’m doing with my life and my vagina, but I shouldn’t. He has no power over me. I shouldn’t dignify him with a real reply.
But… I do. Because I’m curious. Because somebody has to be relaying information to him though I have no idea why.
What are you talking about? Who’s telling you this stuff? Because it’s none of your goddamn business.
And like the flip of a switch it all clicks. Tia must tell her boyfriend who is telling Dan everything I’ve been up to. What a nosy little bitch. She may be pissed at me, but she has no right to divulge my personal life to anyone. I didn’t think guys gossip like little girls, either, but it seems I’m wrong about that too.
Because I’m pissed and wanting to act like a petty bitch, I make it my Facebook status. Do people even make statuses anymore? No, they don’t, but today I don’t give a shit. I open my laptop and type the immature status.
Apparently I’m a slut who’s spiraling out of control! Cool.
It’s super dramatic and extra but I’m so numb to everything right now I don’t even care. Dan responds but I don’t open the message because I don’t give a shit. Sadie messages me wanting ‘story time’ at work tomorrow. Callie texts me and the status must’ve been a real cry for help because even Tia reaches out. I guess she’s done being pissed at me or what’s more probable is she’s riddled with guilt over her wrongdoings.
None of them matter in comparison though. My Facebook Messenger pings and my stomach drops. My mouth dries up like I’ve just spent a month in the Sahara. Is it hot in here? I pile my hair atop my head to get the heavy strands off my neck. The cool air floors and gives me slight chills.
hi
It’s a simple message. The actual word has nothing to do with my reaction, yet it’s so much more than a simple hello. I shiver again as I re-read the name. I can’t believe Aiden messaged me. He took the bait, and it was enough to make him talk to me again.
I’m one part mortified I made that my status, but the other part of me is thrilled it made him talk to me. There is a third part of me, the overwhelming part, which is filled with dread.
Yes, Aiden is talking to me again. There’s a good chance he’s considering taking me back now or else he would’ve deleted me off his friends list and ignored the eternal spark between us. But he didn’t. He’s coming back for more.
Now it means I have to spill the beans about my weekend with Adam and Sadie. Then he, too, will think I’m a slut who’s spiraling out of control. The pit in my stomach returns full force. I keep swallowing to moisten my tongue but nothing’s working.
Do I tell him now or in person? Should I be a coward and do it over the phone? I should see if he’s willing to gi
ve us another shot first and then I can confess. I’ll tell him when the time is right, but I don’t want to ruin us again before we get re-booted.
A: So I hear you’re a whore now, is that what you said?
C: I didn’t say it. Dan and his buddies think it. He went out of his way to text me and tell me.
A: I’m sorry you don’t deserve that. real nice of him to react that way.
You’re one to talk. I don’t deserve a lot of things, Aiden. Some of which include a drunken, nasty break up and promising to never talk to me again. Guess you broke your own promise there, buddy.
C: Yeah and all I want is to have sex. I don’t know where he got that from
A: Well you liked having sex with me remember
How could I forget? I’ll never forget.
C: When it’s good sex I like having it. I’m only human. It’s not like I’m having sex with every person I come into contact with.
A: we do have really good sex.
Do. Present tense. Duly noted, Aiden.
C: Yeah, I’d say.
A: But why do we have really good sex? What’s so good about it?
He can’t be serious. Why is he asking me what makes him good in bed?
C: The person I was having it with…
A: And what was so good about that person?
He’s fucking with me, he has to be. Why is he baiting me to pump his ego? Isn’t it big enough? His ego, not his dick. Although that is too. Is he fishing for a reason to be with me? Will my answer here make or break us?
What I want to tell him is everything is good about him in bed. His cock and the way he uses it. He has all the right moves and knows all the ways to make me unravel. He made me come before he even entered me, before he even touched me, but he wants me to put his godliness into words?
It’s his magic thumb and how he knows the exact right pressure to place on my clit. It’s how he hits my g-spot every time and I was never even completely convinced that body part existed before him. It’s how he eats me, lapping me up like he’ll die if he doesn’t get a taste.
Even more, it’s the way he looks at me as if I’m the most beautiful person in the world and the only one who matters. It’s how he savors me in his look, his touch, his everything. It’s how he moans my name and makes me scream. It’s how I never want it to end and even when we go on for hours it’s over too soon. I’m insatiable for him still, even after all this time.
It’s how I love him; his laugh, his lazy sated smile, how he rubs my back when we cuddle. It’s how his entire face lights up when something is hysterical. It’s how he can be so tender with me one moment but the next second he’s leaving me bruises that’ll last for days.
It’s how his smile changes when he’s being flirty and mischievous. It’s his voice in the morning, rough yet tender. It’s how we keep finding one another even when we fall apart.
It’s in the way he’s insatiable for me too. It’s how he always knows the right thing to say. It’s how hot it is sneaking around and how haven’t gotten caught. And it’s how he told his best friend about us when no one was supposed to know.
How am I supposed to explain that to him? It’s everything Aiden. It’s fucking everything. You’re what makes the sex so good. You. Me. Us together. We’re perfection.
Instead, I’m a fucking coward.
C: You’re just good at what you do.
A: Lol now you make me sound like the whore
C: Well what do YOU think makes our sex so good?
Let’s see how confident he is when I turn the tables on him.
A: Well for me I loved your boobs. Loved them. And you were soooo tight and feisty. That’s what made it good for me.
C: So you miss my boobs and not me. thanks for the heads up, asshole. Message received loud and clear. Whatever I’m over it.
A: Whatever I gotta go. Nice talking to you.
C: It was a fucking joke relax.
How did we get back here? I thought I had him hook, line, and sinker. I thought we were on the path back. We were talking about sex. Why, oh God, why, did I have to allow my snarky attitude to take over and ruin things between us? I want to take it back, but that’s the problem with living in this age of technology. Once you send something you can’t take it back.
I type I’m sorry and attempt to explain myself, but I don’t know what to say or where to start. How do I get someone back who was never mine to begin with?
∞ ∞ ∞
I wish I could say the week flies by but that would be an obvious lie. The days drag on, long and slow, while I go through the motions. I’m numb to everything and everyone. I can’t hold a conversation to save my life because I’m too busy ignoring the world around me and it’s only Monday.
Work will be terrible and awkward as hell. This is my last weekend at Queen Silvercliff and next week I start back at Blackshire which will also be painful and uncomfortable as hell. Could things get any worse?
I’m getting into my car, ready to leave campus and head to the mall for my shift, when my phone rings.
The caller ID reads Aiden and my eyes go wide. My tongue is like sandpaper and my heart is beating as fast as a woodpecker. I close my car door behind me before answering the call for an ounce of privacy from the other students wandering around.
“Hey.” My attempt to keep cool is futile at best. My voice cracks and is nothing but a whisper. He knows I’m weak and broken without him.
“How could you?” Panic courses through my veins with vehemence, like white rapids crashing against rocks. His voice is calm, chilling, which is what scares me most. His anger is vibrating against his vocal chords, barley contained.
My phone hits my ear as my hand shakes and I’m afraid I’ll crack it by how tight my grip is on the screen. My options are to keep the death grip or risk dropping it with the sweat that’s accumulated on my palms.
“Wh-what are you talking about?” I play dumb though I’m sure to regret the decision.
“You know what the fuck I’m talking about, Chelsea. How could you hook up with someone else?” I flinch though he can’t see me. His rage is unmatched, and it terrifies me.
“Who told you?” It doesn’t matter or change things, but I don’t know what else to say. The dam breaks and the tears fall. I fucked up bad this time.
“Does it matter?” He scoffs, his disgust loud and clear through the phone. “Adam and I are friends.”
God, I’m such an idiot. I thrum my head on the steering wheel wishing I had another outlet for my anger or a time machine to undo all my mistakes. The torrent of tears increases and it seems all I do anymore is cry.
“I’m so sorry, Aiden. Please, you have to forgive me. Let me explain. You dumped me over the phone. I was broken and angry. I’ve never been so hurt. Please, just give me another chance. Please.”
“Why should I?” I imagine his jaw is locked and ticking. The words are almost inaudible through the phone and he is getting more tense as the seconds pass.
“Because I—” BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE YOU. “Because I really am sorry and it meant nothing. He kissed me and nothing else happened, I swear. I will do anything, literally anything, to make this up to you. Please give me another chance. I never cheated on you and I never will. I regretted it as it was happening. Just…let me make it up to you. Please. I’ll do anything.”
He’s has to be having a hard time understanding me at this point. I wipe my nose with my sleeve and hiccup through my explanation. I’m sobbing, the tears are uncontrollable and I’m on the verge of hyperventilation. I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t take me back. He needs to. There’s no other option for me.
“Okay.” A whisper, but it’s one so full of hope and joy I think I could die happy if that’s the last word I heard. Okay.
“Really? Thank you. You won’t regret this, I swear. I’m gonna make this up to you no matter what. Whatever it takes I’ll do it.” The tears of despair have now morphed into happy ones. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able
to stop crying.
“Come over tomorrow after work. We’ll work it out.” Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you. Thank you.
One day I’ll tell him those three little words, but I need to be a whole person by myself before I give my heart to someone else.
26
Why You Wanna
Tuesday night after class I drive home to make up my lost time with Aiden. I have late Wednesday classes, meaning I won’t need to rush back to campus in the morning. I’m used to working Tuesday nights, halting me from being able to do this, but the world is on my side tonight and soon I’ll be on my back.
I have yet to see his new apartment and he told me it’s tricky to get to. He knows me well because everything is tricky for me to get to. I call him at the store. It’s a risky move, but it’s the best way to get ahold of him. Plus, when directions are involved, it’s easier for me to talk to him.
“Hey, want me to meet you at work?” It would be easiest to follow him to his new place instead of attempting to get directions.
“No, meet me at the Walmart past the mall. I have to run in there for something, anyway.” Weird place to meet him, but whatever. I’ll do anything he tells me. Though, it’s the same Walmart I took a pregnancy test at not too long ago, and he has no idea about it and he never will.
When the time comes, it’s dark and raining. I park my car in the lot and wait for him to tell me he’s here. I’m not going to wander around inside waiting for him like a lost, sketchy thief. It’s also warm and dry in my car.
A half hour passes and I stare at my phone as anxiety spreads through my veins slow and thorough like molasses. A tap on my window scares me and I see the most gorgeous man alive asking me to roll my window down. It’s pouring now, and the rain is dripping down his hair and onto his face. I imagine a scene similar to the one in The Notebook is about to take place.
I turn off the car after I roll down the window. “There you are. Where were you? Why’d you turn your car off?”
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