67
Valentina
After three hours of football talk, JJ has successfully failed at teaching us anything. But that’s sort of on me and Will. Every time JJ pointed out a play, Will and I pointed out their butts.
Hey, it’s not my fault they literally have a position called Tight End. And I did try to learn a few things. But once I called a sack a fumble, JJ gave up on us.
Oh well.
After that disaster, we all turned our attention to cooking for the meal later.
Going over ingredients and cooking times was only part of the problem.
JJ’s grandmother either has terrible handwriting or terrible cooking skills.
We all could have sworn it said to put grapes in the potatoes, and I still can’t think of what she actually meant.
But all that’s done now, and we agreed to get ready and meet back at a certain time, which leaves me faced with my phone again.
I stare at the new 30 messages on top of the 20 from before. I’m still not ready. Maybe I’ll block him. But I really should hear him out.
Why should you hear him out after what he said?
I drop my phone onto my bed and head over to my bag to find my outfit for tonight. As I pull out the red dress, my mind travels to Huxley in my bedroom, telling me to wear this dress and send him a picture.
My fingers trace the material over and over again until my eyes blur so much that all I see is red.
I fall back against the bathroom door and slide to the floor, my tears spilling over faster than I can catch them.
Clutching the dress to my chest, I beg last night to be a nightmare.
Or better yet, this entire semester was a nightmare.
I wish I had never run into Huxley. I wish I had never had the idea of sleeping with him. I wish he had turned me down.
My phone pings again, and I can’t take it anymore. I push myself from the floor and grab my phone, starting at the top of his messages.
Huxley: I don’t want you to forgive me. Mainly because I know you never will. And you have no reason to.
Huxley: You’re right. I hurt you.
Huxley: I said things that, as I’m sitting here typing this out to you, I don’t know why I said them.
Huxley: Not once since we started have I thought of myself as a plaything or that you were using me like that.
Huxley: I know you care, Valentina. I’m just scared of that.
Huxley: I’m scared that I care about you too.
Huxley: But how could we not?
Huxley: All the bullshit we’ve been through together, how could we not care about the other person?
Huxley: You’re the greatest person in my life.
Huxley: But you’re also one of the only people in my life.
Huxley: I’m sorry I got mad at you.
Huxley: Why shouldn’t you tell your brother about our deal?
My eyes close as a few tears still slip through. Why did he have to bring up the deal? Why couldn’t he just apologize and pretend that he actually cares? My eyes slowly open as I stare forward.
I don’t care anymore. Maybe I deserve to get hurt. Maybe this was all meant to be a joke. God’s up there laughing at his once-in-a-lifetime mistake.
I don’t bother with the rest of his messages.
Valentina: Fine. We’ll continue the deal.
The only reason I’m willing to keep this going is because I’m too scared to have sex with someone else.
At least Huxley knows my fears, and he’ll hopefully treat me kindly when the time comes.
God, I wish I believed that. But the idea of getting close to another person seems impossible now.
I just want to know what it feels like. Then he can leave me alone.
I drop my phone to start getting ready when a soft ping goes off behind me. My body numb, I lean down to read the message.
Huxley: I’m really sorry, Valentina.
I ignore him and go get ready. My body goes through the motions of changing and doing my hair and makeup, but I barely register them until I’m done. How long will I be numb from this?
I walk back to my bed to check my messages to see if Huxley sent any more. Surprisingly, there’s only the one still. I lock the screen before screaming at myself internally.
I told him I’d send him pictures of myself every day. And the red dress was the main reason for that.
I shouldn’t do this, but I promised him I would.
He hurt you. That promise is null and void.
Maybe I am a masochist.