Valentina
Why can’t showers wash away the things we’ve done like dirt on our skin? If that were the case, the shower I just took would have been nice. Instead, it only added to the sinking feeling in my chest and left me drowning while standing still.
The only smart thing my shower made me think about was how I have to move past Huxley. I can’t let him completely destroy me. And when I end things after I get home, I can’t let the thoughts in my head take over.
I told myself I wouldn’t fall back there again. For Will.
For Morgan.
For me.
A first. That’s what our phone call was. Just another first for me to experience.
He’s probably had phone sex loads of times, and I’m just playing catch-up. The amazing feeling during our call is now masked with hatred. Only the hatred is for myself because I’m so unbelievably stupid.
I close my eyes, silent tears spilling through. My hand comes up, wiping them away. I didn’t even know I was crying. Isn’t that the worst kind? When you’re in such deep pain that you just cry while feeling nothing at all?
I have to stop this. I need to stop this. But the sick, twisted part of me doesn’t know how to let him go, even if staying with him is the wrong thing to do.
Will I ever believe anything he says? Will I ever think he wants me?
He probably never did.
I try to picture Huxley actually being attracted to me. Him seeing me in his t-shirt and losing his mind a little. Would he?
Fuck.
There’s no way I can do four consecutive hours with him. Especially not added onto the 24 hours I joked to myself he would make me go through. At this point, I’m not even sure I can do five minutes with him. But I have to keep this up, just for a little bit longer.
I glance at my phone on the bedside table, new anger rushing through me.
He seriously thought that just because I’m a virgin, that means I’ve never done anything? I’m 21. Of course, I’ve experimented with what I might like.
Why do people always assume that if you’re a virgin, it means you’ve never done anything before?
You’ve never even explored yourself? But that also only applies to women.
Men can jack off all they want before they have sex, and it’s seen as what always happens as a guy grows up.
But once a woman starts talking about masturbation, it’s sinful and disgusting, and if she really wants to get pleasured, she should find a man, which is bullshit, honestly.
Women should be able to masturbate if they want to. They also shouldn’t rely on a man to fulfill them sexually. Sure, the physical connection is probably nice, but sometimes the last thing you want is for someone else to be there while you make yourself feel good.
But also, sometimes another person is what you really need.
Fuck, my thoughts are really in their masochistic phase. I need to stop thinking about Huxley. I have to.
I finish getting dressed in clothes that are thankfully not Huxley’s and head out toward the kitchen, where my attention is instantly drawn to the balcony. Thick white flakes fall quickly, blanketing the outside world.
“Sorry, Tina,” Will says when he sees me. “Looks like our plans for the day will be a bit different.”
“That’s alright.” I walk up to the balcony doors and watch the wind take the snow across the street. Even though most people will be upset by the weather, I feel nothing but calm, a piece of happiness that cleans my mind of this morning’s events.
“Well, we still have breakfast ready,” JJ calls over. “So eat up, and then we’ll rearrange our plans.”
I take one more long look over the snow and then head over toward Will and JJ. We spent most of the morning preparing for our meal tomorrow, but the afternoon didn’t have a schedule as we listened to the wind howl outside.
“So we need to talk about this change.”
I look up at Will on the couch from my spot on the floor. My head tilts slightly. “What do you mean?”
“You, Tina,” he states, gesturing over me. “Your wardrobe, the confidence. It’s so amazing, and I want to know more about it.”
I look over my outfit for the day—fitted grey plaid pants and a men’s Guns N’ Roses shirt. I had planned to wear a leather jacket that I also found in the men’s section of the thrift store, but since we’re staying inside today, I threw on one of Will’s sweaters to stay warm.
JJ comes and sits next to Will on the couch. Without hesitation, Will easily curls up next to him. “I didn’t think you listened to Guns N’ Roses,” JJ points out before sipping his coffee.
I shrug. “I’ve heard a few of their songs.”
“Why?” Will scoffs. “You always hated it when I played that type of music? What changed—”
The smile slips off Will’s face, understanding taking over his features as he stares at me. JJ looks at Will when he stops speaking.
“What’s wrong, babe?” he asks gently, but Will doesn’t look away from me.
“You have a boyfriend.” It isn’t a question, though I wish it were, so I could tell him no. Because Huxley isn’t my boyfriend. I’m not sure what he even is to me anymore. Or what he was to begin with.
And then, as if the Universe has a sick sense of humor, my phone buzzes on the coffee table. My gaze moves to the screen to read the message.
Huxley: I’m missing my picture of you today, Love.
I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care.
“Is that him?”
I keep staring at the message until my phone fades to black. I don’t want to talk to him again. I don’t want to go back to school. I never want to see him again.
“He’s just a friend,” I say quietly.
“Right.”
I look up at Will, but he doesn’t seem convinced. “Are you mad that I have a new friend?”
God, even just saying Huxley is my friend sends a knife into my chest. Calling him my friend after everything we’ve done together, hell, after just this morning alone, feels like I let someone take a part of my soul and crush it to dust while I plastered on a smile and went about my day.
Or in layman’s terms, it fucking sucks.
“I’m not mad at all,” he refutes. “I’m just a bit confused that you didn’t tell me about him. And why you’re calling him your friend.”
“Because that’s all that he is.” My voice heightens, and I feel the subtle burn in my eyes, tears begging to fall.
JJ looks at his coffee uncomfortably, but Will doesn’t look away.
“You want more, don’t you?” he asks.
I laugh. I have to.
“Honestly,” I bite out. “I don’t know what I want from him. Some days I wish he hadn’t ever come into my life, and some days I can’t pull myself away from him.”
It’s sick, really, what we have. We’ve fought before and come back together.
But we only came back together because of the deal.
There were times when I thought we actually hated each other, but kept up appearances.
I stayed because I thought he could want me.
He stayed so he could eventually fuck me.
The relationship of the century, if you ask me.
“Well, can we at least know his name?” JJ asks after a bout of silence. “A name can say a lot about a person.”
My eyes shift to Will, remembering all the random times I’ve talked about Huxley to him in an offhanded comment until he finally started to pick up on the fact that I might have feelings for him.
I brace for impact and say, “It may or may not be Huxley Adams.”
“Are you kidding me?!” His voice rings in my ears, new excitement filling our conversation. “The guy you’ve had a crush on since Freshman year?! That Huxley Adams?!”
I wince at his loud voice. “I feel that not many people have a name like that.”
“Holy shit. You finally became friends with him.”
“Well, you know, that’s what happens after you ask someone for sex. Friendship.”
Will and JJ’s eyebrows both go up. “You did what?” Will asks.
Oh shit. “You didn’t hear that.”
“You asked Huxley Adams for sex?” he asks slowly. “How did that even happen?”
I asked him to have sex with me, and then ruined everything by saying I was a virgin. And now several fucked up months later, here we are—I’m still a virgin, and he’s still an unattainable dream.
I shrug. “It’s a long and confusing and rollercoaster-y story.”
Will nods and glances over me. “So that’s why you’ve changed? To get his attention?”
“No. Not really.” I sigh, slightly in frustration and slightly in defeat that I have to now talk about this. “I guess, after spending so much time with him, I just realized more of what I wanted. More of what I liked.”
“And is one of the things you like still him?”
“Kind of,” I mumble. Unfortunately.
Will claps his hands together loudly. “This is amazing. You have to ask him out. Or wait.” He points at me. “Did you guys have sex?”
I shake my head. “No. I chickened out.”
“Well, when you get home, don’t chicken out and do it. I mean, imagine fucking a guy like that.”
JJ waves his hand at Will. “Yeah, hi. Your husband is right here.” He points at himself.
Will rolls his eyes. “Tina, please tell me you have a picture of this man on your phone.”
I pick up my phone but avoid Huxley’s message.
Instead, I head to my camera roll. Dozens of pictures of Huxley fill up my photo album.
The quiet moments we spent in his apartment.
The exciting moments when he taught me to play the guitar or took me to see the stars.
And all the moments I couldn’t help myself and took a picture of him because I couldn’t believe he was right there in front of me.
Will I ever delete these? Or will I use them to torture myself?
Torture. Definitely the torture.
I find a picture towards the end of my camera roll that I took of Huxley in his apartment. He was playing his guitar on the couch next to me, my legs lying over his lap like we were comfortable with each other.
We were.
At one point, we were comfortable. I was safe with him. He made me feel like I was more than I ever really would be.
That’s gone now.
I hand my phone over the coffee table, and Will grabs it, frowning at the screen. “You can’t even see his face here.”
JJ leans over Will’s shoulder, his eyes widening slightly. “Nope. Doesn’t matter. I get it now.”