Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
TEARS FOR FEARS, “HEAD OVER HEELS”
Gabby
“Was your break better than mine?” Olivia asked as we unpacked our bags Sunday night. “My parents spent the whole time fighting. I couldn’t wait to leave.”
“It was fine,” I said, returning to my favorite word.
“Did you see Ben?”
“Yeah.”
“How’s he doing?”
I grunted. “He’s taking self-pity to a new level. I bet he could get into the Guinness Book of Records with his level of pity.”
“Seriously? That doesn’t seem like Ben. I thought he was more confident and positive than that.”
“Well, Olivia, it’s not about you and what you think.”
“What?” She laughed. “I didn’t mean?—”
I shook my head. “I’m kidding. That’s just what Ben kept throwing at me. I couldn’t say anything that involved the word I or me. I can’t believe he treated me that way after …”
“After what? Everything you’ve been through?”
“Yeah. That too.”
“You’re acting weird. I told you, I’m not crushing on him or anything like that. You can totally tell me everything.”
I twisted my lips, considering what good could come from telling her. Probably nothing. But I needed to vent. “We did something, and afterward, he was so mean that I didn’t recognize him. Then I did something I’ve never done, and it felt really good in the moment, but now I regret it. I don’t like when someone brings out the worst in me, and that’s what he did.”
She shook her head. “You lost me. What did you do?”
I wrinkled my nose. “I gave him the middle finger.”
“Oh. Wow. You?” Again, she shook her head. “But no. I don’t mean that. You said ‘we did something.’ What did you and Ben do?”
I bit my thumbnail.
Olivia’s eyes widened. “Oh my god. Did you have sex?”
“No. Well, kind of, but not really.”
“What does that mean? Oral sex?”
I shook my head.
“He fingered you?”
Another headshake.
“Anal?”
My eyes bulged. “No!”
“Then what?”
I folded and refolded the same pair of jeans.
“I’m your friend.” Olivia laughed. “You can tell me.”
“Our clothes stayed on the whole time, but we kissed and he was on top of me, and we sort of …” I tugged at my sweatshirt’s neck, feeling really warm.
“Like he …” she stood and thrust her hips, which only doubled my embarrassment.
“Stop!” I covered my face. “Yes. That.”
“You dry humped. Just say it.”
I dropped my hands. “What?”
Olivia giggled. “Have you never heard of dry humping?”
I didn’t respond.
“It’s rubbing your genitals together with your clothes on. No bodily fluid is exchanged, so it’s, you know … dry.” Olivia was a sex encyclopedia.
I nodded several times.
“Did you orgasm? I’m sure he did. Men will hump anything.”
I winced.
“Oh. No!” She shook her head. “I didn’t mean it that way, like you’re not special, like him dry humping you is equivalent to a dog humping someone’s leg.”
“Wow. Thanks.”
Olivia’s giggles intensified. “I just meant that a guy always orgasms, well maybe not always , but most of the time.”
I tucked my chin and unzipped my toiletry bag. College was a painful experience for the inexperienced.
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with a good dry hump. It’s a useful tool for getting off in public situations. I once dry humped with a guy during a football game. I was sitting on his lap, and we had a blanket over us. It was probably the best one I’ve ever experienced because we had to go so slowly that by the time I came, I was dying.”
Olivia having a ranking of her best to worst dry humping experiences didn’t help me feel better. It made me regret not having sex with Matt. My virginity no longer felt like a trophy or even a gift to be given to my future husband. It made me feel like Linus Van Pelt sucking my thumb while hugging a security blanket.
“I did,” I said with as much confidence as possible.
“Did what?”
I cleared my throat. “Um … orgasmed,” I mumbled without going into detail about it being my first one.
“Did you both do it at the same time? That’s the best! Or did you go first and have to wait for him to finish grinding it out?”
Grinding was never a word I equated with any part of sex. I was more of a making-love girl. A synchronized rhythmic dance. A well-choreographed ballet with a symphony and Ben as the conductor.
“Together,” I said. Gosh, it was so hot in the room.
“That’s good because if he comes first, you’re on your own to finish later. Men are too lazy. They don’t know how to fake it like women. They just blow their wad and quit. So we’re like, ‘Oh, you’re done? Yeah, me too. Oh, God! Yes. Yes. YES! It was so good.’ But not guys. If you come first, they don’t care, they just keep on riding along, taking their sweet time. I don’t know why we feel like it’s okay to not only let them be quitters, but to stroke their ego at the same time. Our moms warned us about guys like that, but sometimes you don’t know what you’re getting until it’s too late.”
First, my mom never warned me about guys who failed to keep going until I orgasmed. My mom never said the word orgasm. Second, I was in way over my head. Olivia did proverbial back handsprings off a balance beam while I did one somersault on a crash pad. The most embarrassing part was I felt so proud of myself, like such a woman. There was even a moment afterward that I prayed I wasn’t pregnant.
* * *
Two days later I mailed Ben a letter.
Dear Ben,
Sorry I gave you the finger. You were a jerk, but I forgive you. Also, sorry I’ve used the word “I” three times. Let’s try this instead. Gabby misses you already. Olivia says hi and so does Jason. Can you believe there’s six inches of snow here and it’s not even Christmas yet? Remember how excited we used to get when it snowed in Devil’s Head?
Gabby has a test in social science tomorrow that she’s not ready for. She’s envious that you got straight A’s. Are you excited for your birthday? Gabby wishes she could be with you that day. She’ll bring your present when she’s there for Christmas? Speaking of Christmas, have you thought about what you want? Gabby wants mittens. Her gloves are not that warm. She needs to keep her fingers together.
Gabby hopes you don’t regret what happened, except the part where you were a jerk. Gabby thinks you’re a phenomenal kisser. Gabby hopes you don’t let anyone else read this letter. Mostly Gabby hopes you write her back.
Love,
Gabby
Ben didn’t reply.
The following week, I sent Ben a birthday card. Again, no reply.
Then the week before heading home for Christmas break, Olivia had news.
“I hope you don’t hate me,” she said, two seconds after getting back to the dorm room after her last class.
I looked up from my text book. “I don’t like where this is going.”
“Cassidy and Becky are moving to an apartment and they asked me if I wanted to move in with them. It’s three bedrooms, and they need one more person. I talked to my parents, and they’re fine with it.” She wrinkled her nose. “So I’m moving out at the end of the semester.”
I didn’t have a good response, but as soon as I opened my mouth to ask her a question, she added, “If they don’t need to move someone in with you, you’ll have this whole room to yourself. That’s pretty awesome, right?”
“Sure. I suppose.” I shrugged.
“Are you mad that I’m leaving you? I know it’s been hard since Ben left, but I really want to live off campus.”
“It’s fine.” I returned my attention to my text book, rereading the same sentence because nothing was sticking in my brain.
Ben consumed a majority of my thoughts, but Matt still occupied space along with the pressure of finals. I wasn’t sure I had the mental capacity to think about Olivia moving out. It wasn’t like we were best buddies. We were roommates who occasionally ate together and talked about sex, but she spent most of her evenings and weekends with Becky and Cassidy or on a date. Moving to the bottom bunk was a big bonus.
“Are you sure?” She hugged me from behind. “I’ll still come visit you.”
I laughed. “It’s fine.”
“If Ben comes to visit, you two can get it on without worrying about me interrupting.”
I couldn’t imagine a world where Ben would visit me, so I just replied with a tight-lipped smile.
A week later, with no word from Ben, I headed home for Christmas.