2
Valentina
And queue the failure.
Almost all of the conversations I try to spark up fizzle out quickly.
Like the guy who told me he would only have sex with girls who could fit his fist into their mouth.
I don’t think that even had to do with the size of his dick; I think he genuinely just wanted to stick his fist into a girl’s mouth.
What the appeal is in that, I’m not sure.
The conversations that did continue were with guys who were way too forward, and the sex would have been more than I was bargaining for.
Like the guy who, after I ended the conversation, walked up to another girl and put her hand down his pants.
She looked like she enjoyed it, but I’m glad I got away before that happened.
I take a break from my dick-finding adventure—Ava’s words, not mine—and head to the kitchen. With a glass of water in hand, I turn back to the crowded room. I scan the area, about to take a drink, when I freeze, my breath catching in my throat.
Huxley Adams stands in the living room talking to some guy I barely see. His hair is slick back now from sweat, and he emphasizes it as he runs his hand through it. Rings still adorn every finger, and a new tattoo peeks out from the sleeve of his leather jacket.
I wonder how many tattoos he has now. I remember only a few on his arms Freshman year, but now they're nearly covered. Not to mention the ones I’ve never seen under his shirt. Well, I assume he has tattoos there anyway. But I’ll probably never get the answer to that.
He brings a bottle of water to his lips when he looks in my direction. That damn easy smile spreads on his face as he lifts his water in a makeshift wave.
I smile back, hopefully just as easy, and raise my hand to wave at him.
“You’re Valentina, right?”
My eyes swing up to the guy next to me, who wasn’t there a second ago. My hand is still awkwardly up in the air, so I play it off by tucking my hair behind my ear. My eyes shift back to Huxley, but he’s gone.
I deeply sigh and turn back to the guy beside me. “That’s me,” I say with a nod.
The guy smiles and extends his hand. “Carson.”
I softly smile back, shaking his hand. His eyes scan me over once before he lifts his beer to his lips. “So what’s your major?”
“Fine Arts.”
“But do you want to be an artist or just look at art all day?” he asks, his beer bottle pointed at me like a microphone.
I smile at his gesture. “Definitely just look at it. They don’t want someone like me creating pieces for museums, believe me.”
Carson laughs at my dig, but surprisingly, I feel calm. I’m also genuinely surprised that he didn’t say something awful about my major. Most guys I’ve talked to tonight jumped into their major in hopes of impressing me. Too bad them talking about themselves in length only did the opposite.
I lean back into the counter. “What about you?”
My eyes scan him—with his clean-cut hair and confident posture, I’m guessing business, medicine, or law.
He actually kind of reminds me of Collin from Freshman year.
I wonder how he’s doing.
Carson takes another drink from his beer and shrugs. “Pre-Law.” Knew it. “There are way too many unjust rulings in this country that need to be shut down.”
I cross my arms over my chest, easing into the conversation. I know barely anything about major laws in the country, other than those that could pertain to me, but I think it would be interesting to hear someone talk about them who actually knows what they mean and how to fix them. “Like what?”
“Like abortion,” he says in disgust. “How do people still support that?”
And there goes my sense of calm. “I’m sorry?”
“I mean, think about it,” he says as if I’ve never thought about this topic before in my life. “A baby getting ripped apart just because someone doesn’t want it anymore? You’re a woman, you should hate the idea of your child getting ripped apart.”
I gape at him. Is he serious right now?
I push myself from the counter so I’m standing straighter in front of him. My height is a disadvantage, but my words are my weapon.
“You do realize that most people aren’t having abortions at nine months pregnant just because they think, ‘You know what? Never mind. Kill this child.’ Women are having abortions because they can’t support the child, or because the baby would die anyway, or because having the child could kill the mother.
Sometimes it’s because they’ve been raped.
And in pretty much all of those situations, the abortion happens early on in the pregnancy.
Usually within a month to two months’ time.
So as a woman, I would appreciate being able to keep my choice on whether or not I have an abortion. ”
I have to control my breathing after I speak, my chest rising quickly with annoyance. Carson glanced at it while I was talking, but now his focus is back on the subject.
He scoffs. “How does it feel admitting that you could one day be a murderer?” There’s a taunt in his voice like he wants to scare me. But I don’t have time to be scared of someone who doesn’t respect me.
I step up to him, getting more in his face to the best of my height ability. “It feels a hell of a lot better than staying here and continuing this conversation with you.” I spin away from him and start searching for Birdie and Ava.
This is why I talk to the guys first. Not only to see if they’d be too aggressive if we had sex, but also so I don’t end up losing my virginity to someone who doesn’t even respect the choices of the person he’s sleeping with.
Men have no reason to be making decisions about a woman’s body.
“I have to get out of here,” I say as soon as I reach them.
“Are you okay?” Ava looks me over with worry, and I can see her words from earlier crossing her mind.
I nod, but then immediately shake my head. “I just had a conversation with a man who tried to tell me my rights as a woman.”
Birdie smiles evilly. “Let me talk to him.”
Ava’s eyes widen.
“Birdie no. You might actually kill this guy.”
Her smile only grows. “Even better. One less fucker that wants to take away our rights.”
“Let’s just go, please,” I say before she can go off and find Carson herself. Birdie shrugs off the fact that she was about to kill a man. And I’m not sure I would have stopped her.
She and Ava put their cups down, and the three of us head towards the door.
Before we leave, I can’t help but look back.
My eyes catch onto Huxley immediately, like I knew exactly where he was.
He frowns when his eyes land on mine. I don’t know if he can see how distraught I am, but I force a smile to hopefully ease his worry.
He softly smiles back, and I feel a little less on edge.
Despite having some of the weirdest and worst conversations of my life tonight, all it took was one smile from Huxley Adams for everything to feel right again.