5. Ali
5
ALI
I’ve been remade.
It’s as if my entire self was a piece of clay that had been set in its shape, and then an immovable force by the name of Parker came along and heated me to such a degree that he was able to remold me, cast me into a subservient doll whose only desire is to please him. He took my virginity. He made a woman out of me. And everything was pure bliss.
Until last night.
What was that? I don’t mean the gun in his hands or the blade to my throat. I can understand why a man like him would react that way to someone breaking into his apartment. What I can’t understand is the way his personality and how he treated me shifted within just minutes. He threatened to kill me. He fucked me. He made me feel loved. Then he threw me out of his apartment like I was a piece of trash.
I still have whiplash from it all.
And it must be visible to everyone because I’ve been getting looks all day and am being subjected to an onslaught of questions by my friends like I’m a State’s witness or something.
“What’s going on with you?”
“You look…different today.”
“Are you in love? You’re absolutely glowing!”
“I bet she’s in love. Oh my God. You got laid finally, didn’t you!?”
“No.” I shake my head adamantly. Of course it’s Amy from English Comp that’s the most direct and to the point. Whatever internal filter we all have that keeps us from saying things we know we shouldn’t–well, Amy doesn’t have one of those.
“Oh, please!” She scoffs, giggling at the rest of the girls. “You totally got some dick. It’s obvious. I was watching this video on YouTube about how human females emit different pheromones that like…cause their skin to glow after they’ve had sex.” I fight to stop my eyes from rolling. “It’s some kind of biological evolutionary trait that tells the rest of the men in the tribe to get away from her.”
Tammy and Christa laugh as I pop the lid on my salad. The café lunches here aren’t that great, but it’s hard to fuck up a salad.
“That’s funny, because I was watching this video by this great creator that said human females love to pressure their friends about sex when they’re super horny and not getting any!”
Counter-thrust. Riposte.
Tammy and Christa gasp, but Amy simply laughs like I just cracked the world’s greatest joke. “I love you, bitch. But you totally just admitted you got dicked down.”
“I did not!”
“Who is he?” Tammy asks.
“Do we know him?” Christa joins in.
“I bet it’s Mr. Gengris from her stats class,” Amy says, her eyes wide with excitement. “She’s got that student-teacher kink going.”
Again, I merely shake my head as I stuff my mouth with lettuce. I know she’s trying her best to embarrass me into spilling my guts, but it’s not going to work. I’m not even close to blushing.
Oh, sweet summer child. If only you knew just what my real kink was and how tame your suggestion is in comparison.
“Mr. Gengris is hot,” Tammy agrees. “He’s like thirty-five but looks twenty-something.”
I sigh. This isn’t going to stop. Something about me is giving off indicators that things have changed. That I’ve changed. And to be honest, I’d love to actually come out with it and tell the girls everything that’s happened, but how can I do that? How can I explain to them that I fell for my stalker, let him sneak into my room and spy on me, stalked him in return, and then let him take my virginity while I lay there and pretended to be asleep?
Tammy lost her virginity to her boyfriend in her room while her parents were gone with all the lights off and said it was completely underwhelming. Christa’s favorite position is missionary, and she also likes the lights off because she’s embarrassed being naked in front of her boyfriend. Maybe Amy would relate, as she says she likes to dress up in lingerie for her man, but still–compared to this bunch, my freak-o-meter is off the charts.
Still, I have to give them something, or they’ll never stop.
“Okay,” I groan. “You’re right.”
“I knew it!” Amy says, clapping her hands excitedly.
“ Sort of ,” I correct her. “The truth is…I met someone. But I’m not sure where things are going to go just yet.”
“What do you mean? He’s not married, is he?” There’s Amy again, cutting through the bullshit.
“No, he’s not–” Jesus, I actually don’t know if he’s married. Despite my best attempts to pull the Uno-reverse-card on Parker and stalk him to discover his secrets, I really found out nothing about him. It’s almost like he has no life outside of work and stalking me. I never saw him make any phone calls or have any visitors. Could it be possible he does have a family somewhere and that he’s simply come to Gatree to get away from them? Or maybe they’re back at home in some other state, waiting for the right time to move out here with him.
Why am I thinking this way right now?
I shouldn’t even be thinking about Parker. Not after how he treated me last night.
I was bawling my eyes out when I left his building. The way he slammed me up against the wall and held his knife to my throat was frighteningly exhilarating. And the sex…well, that was phenomenal. So many guys go on and on about how gross it is to go down on girls, but Parker didn’t hesitate. His tongue did things to my sex that I never even thought possible, and then when he stretched me with his massive cock–well, let’s just say I was in heaven.
And just like that, he snatched me back to earth. It was like having an icy fist stabbed into my stomach as he snatched me to my feet and ordered me away. Tears fell from my eyes, waterfalling down my cheeks as I somehow managed to put one foot in front of the other and stumble out of his building. People outside probably thought I was drunk or on something as I floundered down the street to my car.
When I got home, I curled up into a ball and lay there in the fetal position for hours, my body cold, my heart barely beating. I couldn’t even keep my eyes closed. I keep staring at the window– his window–waiting for a flicker of movement, his shadow. Anything indicating his return. Of course he was going to realize what a mistake he’d made, right? And like in the movies, he would rush over to my place, wrap me up in his arms, and tell me how much of a fool he’d been.
But that didn’t happen.
I lay there alone in the dark for hours and didn’t fall asleep until the sun was almost up.
Even now, I’m still wondering if he’s watching me from afar. From some nook somewhere, through one of the windows with his binoculars, or waiting in the hall for me to emerge so he can follow me to class. I know I’m being ridiculous. Why would he be watching me after basically throwing me out of his entire life last night?
“That’s right. You’re just a fuck. Now I’m done with you. Get out.”
Those words will be imprinted on my heart for the rest of my life. I can almost feel them there now, like they were seared into the muscle with one of those brands they use on cattle. I’ll always belong to Parker now in some way. Even if I’m no longer with him.
“So who is he?” Amy presses. I look down at my salad and realize I’m no longer hungry. “What’s he do?”
“He’s a…security guard,” I reply. But is he actually? All those tattoos. The ruthless way he stormed into his apartment last night, gun drawn. How he didn’t even hesitate before grabbing me and holding a piece of lethal metal to my neck. I have a feeling a security guard–someone who probably worked law enforcement prior–would have handled things differently.
“Security guard.” Tammy smiles. “Hot.”
“Totally.”
“So what’s the problem?” Christa asks. “Is he ‘just not sure he’s looking for a relationship right now’?”
I have to laugh. Christa is right, but for all the wrong reasons. Shit, I don’t even know what his reasons are, but he’s not just the typical fuck-boy going around trying to screw as many women as possible. Even though he may have tried to act like that last night when he threw me out, it’s obvious there’s something more there. Something deeper that caused him to behave like he did.
“Well, it’s complicated,” I reply. Isn’t that the understatement of the year?
“You want us to whip him into shape?” Amy gleefully suggests. “I’ll take the girls here, and we can go give him a talking to.” She mimes punching someone while she scrunches up her face, trying to look tough. “I can give him my best Milla Jovovich.”
“Who?” Tammy asks.
“You know, the girl from all those Resident Evil movies. She’s always like a tough girl?” Tammy just shrugs, causing Amy to sigh. “You girls really need to watch more movies your man actually enjoys.”
The banality of this conversation is starting to grate on me. I’ve had a headache all morning–probably from lack of sleep–and it’s coming back now with a vengeance.
“No, I don’t want you to whip him into shape,” I snap, causing the girls to jump. Tammy even spills her iced tea and looks at me in shock as she quickly picks it up. “You couldn’t even if you wanted to. You’re three tiny girls, and he’s a massive, hulking, freakishly-strong security guard. He could kill all three of you if he wanted to.”
Silence.
The girls look at me like I just morphed into an alien.
“I’m sorry,” I sigh, slumping forward onto the table like an exhausted caterpillar. “I didn’t sleep well last night. I have a headache. And this guy…”
“We’re only trying to help,” Amy says sweetly, patting me on the back. Despite her hard edges, Amy always knows when a bit of comfort is needed.
“I know.” I nod. “I just…I really like this guy. I was ready to dive in, you know? Give myself over to him. But he’s just–I can’t figure him out. And that scares me.”
Memories of last night’s events begin to bubble up from beneath the surface, and my eyes start to well up with tears. Some things are better left alone, and maybe Parker is one of those things. Maybe I will be better off without him. Because for the first time since he entered my life, the thrill is gone. The excitement vanished. And all that remains now is a vacant, hollow feeling, tinged with pain and despair.