Chapter 18
Elli
As soon as I open my eyes I regret it. The light is too bright, my head is pounding, and my body feels like I’ve been run over by a tractor.
I’m never drinking again.
I notice a glass of water and some Advil on my nightstand with a note.
It’s not my handwriting. It could be Robin’s or Savannah’s, but that doesn’t seem right either.
I check my phone and see that it’s just past eight. I feel sweaty and gross, and decide that a shower is in order, especially if someone is coming over with breakfast.
Stripping my clothes, I realize I’m not in my contraption of a shirt anymore, and I don’t know how I got out of it. I look in the mirror, expecting to find a mess of makeup and wild hair, but my face is bare and my hair is in a loose braid.
I don’t remember taking my makeup off or braiding my hair.
Standing under the hot water helps ease the tension in my body, which helps lessen my headache some, and now that I’m more awake, the memories of last night hit me like a truck.
Robin kissing me on the way to the club, the delicious pina coladas that I apparently had too many of, the tequila- gag- dancing with that stranger, him trying to get handsy, kneeing him in the balls and then leaving with Wes.
Wes.
Wes brought me home. He helped me take off that awful shirt and he did my skincare routine for me, brushed and braided my hair. He tucked me into bed. He must have written the note, placed the Advil, and then left.
I think I remember asking him to stay. Would he have stayed if I did? Why didn’t Drew bring me home? Did I call Wes?
My headache starts getting worse with all of the questions, but I’m not going to figure anything out in the shower, so I hop out and wrap the towel around my body. I towel dry my hair, apply my skincare, and moisturize my body before slipping on my pink satin robe.
Izzy calls me on my way to the kitchen, her chipper voice is a lot on a normal day, but hungover it’s amplified tenfold.
“You alive, Els?” She’s mocking me.
I answer with a groan, “Barely. Don’t drink, Iz. I feel like I got hit by a- FUCK.” The doorbell rings and scares the shit out of me and I almost drop my phone.
“I think it’s pronounced ‘truck’ Els Bells.” Izzy chides.
“Oh shush. Someone’s at the door, hold on.” I leave the phone on and at my side while I open the door to find Robin and Sav standing on the other side holding bags of food and to-go cups of what I’m assuming is coffee.
“Good morning! We brought breakfast and coffee!” Robin says, looking much more alive than I feel.
I bring the phone up to my ear and motion the girls inside. “Sorry Iz. Robin and Savannah just came over with breakfast. Can I call you when they leave?”
“As long as you tell me everything in explicit detail!”
“Deal. Love you Iz.”
“Love you too. Bye!”
I hang up as I walk over to the kitchen island and stand on the opposite side of it from Sav and Robs, who are both sitting with enigmatic smiles.
“Good morning…Why don’t you two look hungover?” I ask.
“We have a higher tolerance than you do, babe. Plus, we have routines to prevent hangovers. Stick with us, and we’ll teach you our ways.” Sav says, taking a bite of her breakfast sandwich.
“We brought you bacon, egg, and cheese on a croissant, and an iced white mocha with an extra shot. I hope that’s okay?” Robin says while sliding over the sandwich and a cup.
“That sounds fucking delightful. Thank you. But how did you know my coffee order?” I take a long sip of the coffee, almost moaning at the taste. Then, I take a bite of the croissant sandwich and groan. “This is really good.” I say impolitely around a mouthful.
“A little bird told us what you liked. We planned on coming over this morning to check on you anyway, but someone was adamant that we do.” Savannah answers.
She doesn’t have to say his name for me to know she’s talking about Wes. My stomach flutters, and it has nothing to do with the hangover this time. It has everything to do with how thoughtful Wes is.
We eat in silence until we’ve all finished our sandwiches and most of our drinks. I take our trash and throw it away, then stand back at the counter while they just stare at me.
“Sooooo,” Robin starts, “did you have fun last night?”
I narrow my eyes at her, “Yes… Why?”
Robs shrugs. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay after that douchebag and the drinking. We had a lot of fun with you, and we want to hang out more.”
Sav nods in agreement, then clears her throat. “We also wanted to make sure you got home okay and that Wes took care of you. Which, it looks like he did.”
“Yes, he took great care of me. He removed my makeup and braided my hair for me. Got me medicine and water. He even…” I trail off, my cheeks burning as I decide if I want to share the shirt thing, in the end I tell them anyway.
“He helped me take off that contraption of a shirt I decided to wear. Then I guess he left. Why did he come get me, anyway?”
Robin and Savannah have a silent conversation that I wish I could be part of full of eyebrow raises, head shakes, nods, and random hand gestures. Finally, they both look at me and Robin explains.
“You kept talking about Wes last night after a few drinks.” My cheeks heat again in embarrassment. “And after the incident with the dudebro, I figured you’d appreciate Wes taking you home.”
Sav jumps in. “Plus, and I love him with all my heart, Drew’s not the most… sensitive or caring with new people. He would have just dropped you off and let you fend for yourself. We wanted someone to make sure you got in okay and we knew Wes would do that without overstepping any boundaries.”
“He was a perfect gentleman.” I assure them.
“Good. Well. He has a show on Wednesday night, and we all try to go and support him.” Sav says.
“Oh well that should be fun. I hope you guys have fun-”
Robin interrupts me, “Nope. You’re coming with us. We will pick you up at six on Wednesday.”
“Wouldn’t Wes have invited me himself if he wanted me to come?”
“Nah.” She waves me off like it’s no big deal. “You’re part of the group now. This is what we do.”
Tears burn behind my eyes at how easily they have accepted me into their group. I’ve never had friends like this.
“Well okay. That sounds fun.”
“Great! Now get dressed. We’re going shopping.” Robin claps her hands together then pushes me towards my room.
“Shopping? For what?” I spin to face her and she has a mischievous glint in her hazel eyes.
“You may have rambled about not having a lot of… success… with orgasms. We’re going toy shopping.” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “And then outfit shopping for Wes’s performance. But that’s not the most important part of today’s journey.”
I look at Savannah, like she’ll agree that this is crazy, but she just shrugs. “Yep. Sorry babe, as a feminist, I can’t in good conscience let you continue to struggle with self-pleasure. Orgasms are a healthy, natural part of life and you deserve them.”
“Um. Okay. I’ll go get dressed then, I guess.”
Forty minutes later, we’re standing in front of a store called The Velvet Taco, which apparently is a euphemism for a vagina. I’ve heard a vagina called a lot of things, but never a velvet taco.
On the way here, Savannah and Robin gave me a rundown of their favorite toys, and how some toys are better solo, and some are better with partners. I swear my cheeks have never been redder. Having people so openly talk about sex and masturbation is new, and feels taboo because of the way I grew up.
The most I was told was “Never touch yourself. Never let anyone else touch you. Not until you’re married. Then you are to please your husband and make babies.”
There were never really any safe sex talks, discussions about pleasure, or anything like that.
I’ve done some of my own research, but the internet can only teach you so much. Reading the spicy romance novels has helped me figure out a little bit, and the rest has been self-exploration.
I’ve considered buying a toy, but the options are so overwhelming and I got so flustered I closed the tab and haven’t looked back.
Robin leads our little trio into the store and directly to the vibrator section.
Sav and Robs decided a vibrating rabbit, or a suction toy would be the best toy for a beginner.
I have no idea what either of those things is, so I follow them obediently while they point out all of the different options.
I know this is a sex toy shop, but holy shit there are a lot of toys. There’s all different sizes and shapes of penises that look both lifelike and fake. There’s one as thick and long as my arm! Who’s using that????
There’s a section for dildos that are “fantasy” shapes. A tentacle, alien fingers, a unicorn horn, a penis that has a bulbous part towards the base that they call a “knot.”
There’s a whole section for anal play toys and I cannot fathom how anyone fits those in there.
We’ve seen sex machines, sex swings, bondage kits.
There are so many vibrators to choose from, too, my poor, sheltered brain is overwhelmed.
“Alrighty Elli. I think this one is perfect for your first toy. You can use it just on your clit, or insert it vaginally, too, and this little part will vibrate against your clit. The stimulation in both areas will bring you a lot of pleasure.” Robin explains, holding out a pink silicone toy that has a longer part that I assume goes inside, and a shorter arm that I assume will vibrate against my clit while the other part is inside me.
That thing is supposed to go inside me?
Good grief. At least it’s not monstrous.
“Sure. Okay. That sounds good.” I squeak, cursing my voice for sounding as overwhelmed as I feel.
Robin and Savannah offer me some sympathetic smiles, and Robs wraps me in a hug. “I know this is overwhelming. We’re obviously not going to force you to buy a toy, but I do think this is a good step in unlearning the purity culture bullshit spewed to us through our lives.”
She’s right, and I know she’s right. And this is a good first step in taking back control of my body. It’s hard to unlearn twenty-four years’ worth of shame in an hour, but I can take this slow. I can buy the toy, but I don’t have to use it, right?
I take a deep breath. “You’re right. It’s time to take control over my body instead of letting religion define who I am.” I grab the plastic package holding the toy, “Let’s do this.”
Savannah pumps her fist, “Girl power! You’re going to be so glad you did this. I promise.”
They suggested buying some lube to make sure things are comfortable with the toy, so after buying the lube and the toy, we head down the road to a boutique that carries plus size and straight size clothes.
While Robs is thin and I’m plus size, Sav is somewhere in between so this store is perfect for each of us to find outfits in.
While we peruse the selections, I learn more about the girls and the rest of the group.
I learn that Robin is the social media manager for an art gallery in San Antonio, and she just got asked to head the opening of a new exhibit that opens in August. Savannah is a Spanish teacher at the local high school, which she says is weird because she feels like she just graduated herself.
Apparently everyone in their little friend group, other than Sean, went to University of Texas at San Antonio, and that’s where Robin met Matt in one of her business classes.
Sean joined the Army right out of high school and was deployed to Afghanistan shortly after finishing tech school.
That was apparently the last deployment the US made to Afghanistan, but it really messed Sean up.
He didn’t reenlist when his contract was up, wanting to be home more.
When he left the Army, he came out as gay, but hasn’t had any serious relationships that anyone knows of.
Drew is a cyber security analyst, and works for the government in some capacity. He and Sav have been dating for four years and she’s expecting a ring anytime.
The day flies by, and I end up with a really cute outfit for Wes’s show, and the feeling that I’m exactly where I need to be.