of the animal that was here in this kitchen just a moment ago.
“I think that was a little too far, even for me,” he said eventually. His sudden change in tone felt like an insult.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He was meant to be my co-rebel, my partner in crime, not another person telling me what I should and shouldn’t do.
“Nothing. Just maybe we should calm down a little with that kind of stuff?”
For all the time we had been “seeing” each other, all the stolen kisses and secret meetings, I had in the back of my mind that $641 I had tucked away in my backpack. It seemed a lifetime ago to me now; how different I was then. He had never asked for it after that first night, and I had never offered it, and we had marched on with a nasty set of assumptions brewing between us, the money being a sore point – all the wrong kinds of sore, too.
“Why? You enjoyed it,” I said, more than a little hurt. “Who are you to judge me anyway?”
His face tightened. “Who am I? I don’t know, Mel, who am I?”
I smiled nervously, trying to lighten the tension that was growing in the room.
“Who are you? Well you’re my sexy boy toy, aren’t you? You’re my bad boy who’s going to teach me a lesson and…” I pouted playfully and tried on the same voice I had earlier, but he drew back and tightened his face further.
“What the fuck, Mel? Can you just cut that out? I’m sick of all of that. I’m not just a piece of meat you know.”
The spell was broken. My thighs were still sticky and my hair was still tousled, but he was ruining the mood, and fast. This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to go. I like to have things planned out, even now, and he had stopped playing his part. He was supposed to be my handsome devil come to lure me away from righteousness, and defile me, and punish my innocence…
I drew back and looked at him, trying to think of something to say to hurt him. He was supposed to be on my side.
“You’re not a piece of meat? Well, tell me honestly then, are you still seeing them?” We had fought about this last time, too. He had sworn to stop seeing his “sugar mommies” but kept at it anyway. He had kept it all secret, the gifts, the short trips. Yet he wanted to judge me? I was a fucked up girl with issues, fine, but what was he ?
He looked hurt and hung his head, saying nothing.
“Oh my god …you are still seeing them!” I said, expecting him to jump in and deny it. I stood up, face burning.
“So you’ll do anything for them, as long as there’s cash involved, but I can go to hell? Is that right?”
He said nothing, and I wished with all my heart he would look at me. I threw on my shirt and left, banging the door behind me. I had planned all of this out. And this was not the way it was supposed to go.
Chapter Thirteen
The trouble with losing your virginity is that you can only do it once. The trouble with fantasies is that they’re not real. And the trouble with bad boys is that they’re …well, they’re bad.
I went to my dorm room that evening and secretly had to admit to myself that things just weren’t right. That maybe it was me who was the bad guy in this story. That first night on the futon, Jared wasn’t a real person to me, I’ll admit it. He was my ticket out of my “issues”, out of my stuffy ideas abut sex and my unhealthy home life and my toxic, religious upbringing. He was a catalyst, the same one that had released my aunt from of her crazy red chrysalis and now had worked on me, sparking some fierce repressed rebellion in me and letting loose a new beast entirely.
That night, the blood of something old and primal smeared on my belly like a dangerous idea, I had changed. Jared has the eerie talent of being able to reach deep into people and pull out their real desires, pull away their layers and reveal what’s really underneath. He was a “toy boy”, sure, but he was also something like a sexual magician, his irrepressible energy
“I think that was a little too far, even for me,” he said eventually. His sudden change in tone felt like an insult.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He was meant to be my co-rebel, my partner in crime, not another person telling me what I should and shouldn’t do.
“Nothing. Just maybe we should calm down a little with that kind of stuff?”
For all the time we had been “seeing” each other, all the stolen kisses and secret meetings, I had in the back of my mind that $641 I had tucked away in my backpack. It seemed a lifetime ago to me now; how different I was then. He had never asked for it after that first night, and I had never offered it, and we had marched on with a nasty set of assumptions brewing between us, the money being a sore point – all the wrong kinds of sore, too.
“Why? You enjoyed it,” I said, more than a little hurt. “Who are you to judge me anyway?”
His face tightened. “Who am I? I don’t know, Mel, who am I?”
I smiled nervously, trying to lighten the tension that was growing in the room.
“Who are you? Well you’re my sexy boy toy, aren’t you? You’re my bad boy who’s going to teach me a lesson and…” I pouted playfully and tried on the same voice I had earlier, but he drew back and tightened his face further.
“What the fuck, Mel? Can you just cut that out? I’m sick of all of that. I’m not just a piece of meat you know.”
The spell was broken. My thighs were still sticky and my hair was still tousled, but he was ruining the mood, and fast. This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to go. I like to have things planned out, even now, and he had stopped playing his part. He was supposed to be my handsome devil come to lure me away from righteousness, and defile me, and punish my innocence…
I drew back and looked at him, trying to think of something to say to hurt him. He was supposed to be on my side.
“You’re not a piece of meat? Well, tell me honestly then, are you still seeing them?” We had fought about this last time, too. He had sworn to stop seeing his “sugar mommies” but kept at it anyway. He had kept it all secret, the gifts, the short trips. Yet he wanted to judge me? I was a fucked up girl with issues, fine, but what was he ?
He looked hurt and hung his head, saying nothing.
“Oh my god …you are still seeing them!” I said, expecting him to jump in and deny it. I stood up, face burning.
“So you’ll do anything for them, as long as there’s cash involved, but I can go to hell? Is that right?”
He said nothing, and I wished with all my heart he would look at me. I threw on my shirt and left, banging the door behind me. I had planned all of this out. And this was not the way it was supposed to go.
Chapter Thirteen
The trouble with losing your virginity is that you can only do it once. The trouble with fantasies is that they’re not real. And the trouble with bad boys is that they’re …well, they’re bad.
I went to my dorm room that evening and secretly had to admit to myself that things just weren’t right. That maybe it was me who was the bad guy in this story. That first night on the futon, Jared wasn’t a real person to me, I’ll admit it. He was my ticket out of my “issues”, out of my stuffy ideas abut sex and my unhealthy home life and my toxic, religious upbringing. He was a catalyst, the same one that had released my aunt from of her crazy red chrysalis and now had worked on me, sparking some fierce repressed rebellion in me and letting loose a new beast entirely.
That night, the blood of something old and primal smeared on my belly like a dangerous idea, I had changed. Jared has the eerie talent of being able to reach deep into people and pull out their real desires, pull away their layers and reveal what’s really underneath. He was a “toy boy”, sure, but he was also something like a sexual magician, his irrepressible energy
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