Chapter Ten – Wren #2
Makes me feel wanted, craved. I never got that with Mike. I got it with Logan, but it was full of the push and pull around that feeling, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that I don’t want the push and pull of a relationship like that.
“Well, I’ll be here,” I say lamely, and I’m thankful that I’m able to get out of the car afterwards, because out of everything I could’ve told him, that’s what I went with?
I hate myself sometimes. Me and the word cool are never in the same sentence together, for reasons that should be clear to anyone who spends more than five seconds with me.
I wave to him, and I watch as he pulls out of the driveway before I head to the house. The moment I step inside, Sloane is waiting for me in the kitchen. Though she looks uninterested—the normal expression she wears on her face—she still asks me about my date.
“How’d it go? I take it by your late arrival this morning you had a fun time with Mr. Sexy Professor?” It’s a darn good thing Elias isn’t nearby, otherwise she’d get a hard glare after that one.
“It was good.”
My short and sweet answer isn’t enough for her. She folds her arms over her chest and cocks her head at me. “Just good? If it was only good, I don’t think the date would’ve lasted all night. I’d say it was more than good.”
I blush. “Okay, it was amazing.” I walk past her, heading to the stairs, and she follows me. Together, we go to my room, where she plops herself down on my bed.
“How was he?”
If I wasn’t already blushing, that blunt question would have set me on fire. I can’t even look at her for a few seconds after that, mostly because I can’t believe she asked that particular question. Is that something friends talk about, or is it a Sloane thing?
“Oh, come on, don’t be a prude,” she says, as if it’s a simple question with an equally simple answer. I suppose to some people it might be like that, but to me…
No. New year, new me, right? If Sloane wants to know how he was, then I’ll tell her. It isn’t like I have any other friends. If it’ll satisfy her curiosity, then why not? It isn’t like she’s going to run and tell my parents that I hooked up with one of my professors.
“He had lots of stamina,” I say, and she smirks at that. “He, um, also has a thing for blindfolds, apparently.”
“Look at you go,” she purrs out the words, the approval laced with her tone.
“I had no idea you had something like that in you. I’m proud of you.
It’s like you’re a whole different person than you were last fall—not a bad thing.
You were wallowing way too much about your ex, and that asshole didn’t even deserve any of your thoughts. ”
I can’t argue with her there. Mike was, and still is, worthless.
I don’t know if he and Meghan are together or if things fizzled out once they got caught and it was no longer considered sneaking around, and I don’t care.
I blocked them both on all the sites. I haven’t seen neither hide nor hair of Meghan, and as for Mike…
I only saw him that one time at a party, and that’s it.
They’re dead to me, and they always will be. Sloane’s right: I spent way too long lost in my feelings when it came to my heartbreak. Not anymore.
Then Sloane asks something that’s totally private, and something I definitely am not expecting. “You’re on birth control, aren’t you? You know you can’t trust guys with condoms.” Stated so matter-of-factly, as if it’s a part of life I should be aware of.
And it is, except… I didn’t think about that at all last night.
I was blindfolded the entire time. I heard him put on what I assumed were condoms, but I didn’t actually see him roll the rubber on.
I don’t think Reese would do something like that, but at the same time, it isn’t like I know him that well.
Crap. She’s right. I’m so dumb.
The look on my face must’ve been enough, because she says, “Girl, what the hell are you doing? You want to put your future at risk? I assume you’re not ready to pop out a kid and raise it right now. You need to get on something, fast.”
I wander over to my bed and sit next to her.
“I don’t even know where to go. If I make a doctor’s appointment, won’t my parents’ insurance get the bill?
I don’t want them knowing.” Yes, I’m an adult, so I should be able to do adult things.
Heck, people were having sex in high school.
Middle school for some. I think I lasted pretty long, considering.
Still, I don’t want my parents to find out. If they make it to their deathbeds not knowing whether or not I’ve ever had sex, I’d be okay with that.
“Go to the campus clinic. They take cash.”
“I don’t have that kind of money.” I mean, I have some stuff saved up since I haven’t had to pay Sloane rent, but at the same time, I have no idea what something like that would cost me.
“Then call and schedule an appointment for this week, and I’ll go with you. I’ll pay.”
I shake my head. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t. I offered. You’re my friend.
” When she says that, she chuckles. “So weird to say. Can you believe I’ve never really had a friend before?
I was always the outcast.” She shrugs. “But I didn’t care.
Those people… they were nothing judgmental assholes, kind of like my grandparents and my mother. ”
I believe it. Sloane doesn’t strike me as someone who has a wide circle of friends. She is, to put it lightly, rough around the edges. It’s probably why she and Elias fit so well together. They’re both a little rough.
I don’t know whether I should bring it up, but I do, anyway: “Is it because of who your dad was?” What Sloane told me when we first met has always stuck in my mind.
Her father was a serial killer. I did some research after she told me, but at the time, I was in such dire need of new housing, I couldn’t afford to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Yes and no. I was never one of them. The cards were stacked against me from the beginning. I was never given a fair shot at anything, something my grandmother was always intent on rubbing in my face. My father had the rot in him, she always said, and I had the rot in me, too. I can only really be myself when I’m with Elias. ”
The rot. It’s a weird thing to say, but it isn’t the first time I’ve heard her use that word.
Now that there’s more context behind it, I think I get it.
Sloane comes from money. Her mother was raped and impregnated by a serial killer.
It’s no wonder why her grandmother and everyone else in her life treated her as though she was different—because she was different.
“I don’t think you’re rotten,” I tell her. “I wouldn’t know where I’d be now if it wasn’t for you.”
Sloane chuckles. “I’m not the kind of girl who helps people. You were a first for me, and in the beginning, I honestly didn’t know if it would work.” Her green eyes study me. “I’m glad it did, though.”
“Me, too.”
“Now, I think the clinic is open till one today, so you should call and make an appointment. The sooner the better.”
I dramatically roll my eyes and say, “Yes, Mom.”
Sloane chuckles. “Someone has to think about these things. Someone’s got to be responsible. You’re clearly too new at this to do it yourself.”
She’s not wrong. It is new to me. It’s new and exciting and it’s just the beginning.