The Down Side Of Things + new Chapter Six.
Hello, my name is Lydia. I'm hoping to get some major feedback on this story so if you see it other places that's why.
This is The Down Side Of Things (up until my most recent chapter):
Warning: Heavy Content in Prelude.
Prelude-Unreasonable Attraction
“Finger me.”
“What?!”
“Finger me. I’m so horny.” She whined at me as she removed her clothes. She gracefully sat on the floor and leaned back spreading her legs open. I was shocked, to say the least. And becoming extremely turned on myself, I could feel.
“You’re serious?” I asked trying to brush off my physical need. I knew she could tell though. That I was soaking wet, I mean. I guess something showed on my face, but I was still a bit hesitant. Wouldn’t you be to? The most I had ever experienced with another female before was a drunken make out session, and I only had Tommi’s word on that one seeing as how I blacked out. And now, here I was, dripping vaginal fluid over a former “working girl” as they say. I didn’t understand it. Why the sudden physical attraction to a girl, but not just any girl, a girl who used to be a hooker.
“Stop looking like a deer caught in the headlights and get down here. I know you want to.” She looked further down…and I literally saw more liquid gushing out of her welcoming vagina. “And you might wanna take your pants off before you stain them.”
Without looking away from her sopping wet clit, I removed my shirt and jeans. She gave me an intense look and I removed my bra, my breasts popping out. And lastly my thin layered lace underwear to reveal my drenched soft tender pink pussy. I was watching her eyes now and as she looked up at my nude needing form. I watched her suggestive, horny expression change into one of pure ecstasy as she begins to moan uncontrollably. As I watched her body’s reaction, I grew wetter, if that was possible. It began running down along the contours of my thighs. She was panting and trying to catch her breath again as she looked back up at me.
“I’ve just come,” she panted, as if it wasn’t obvious. Then looking at me with a devilish, seductive smirk she says “You wanna take care of it for me,” and spread her legs open further, and dipping her finger down into the come. Holding it out for me to taste. I knelt down on the floor in front of her taking her pointer finger into my mouth, I heard her sigh. My tongue twirled around her finger, wiping it clean. I removed her finger from my mouth, looking at her. She opened her eyes, and twirled her hands in my hair, slowly dragging my face down toward her clitoris. My tongue extended again as I licked and sucked the come and vaginal fluids off of her skin, though it never seemed to disappear. She moaned and I began to feel the needing itch. She tasted amazing though and I really needed to drink all of her or else I thought I’d die of thirst. As I continued to dip my tongue way deep down into her vagina, I began adding my fingers into the mix as well. She was panting and moaning and groaning, and I knew she was getting close again. I scraped my teeth and she came to me, screaming and practically ripping my hair out of my head. And I sucked her dry. Then, suddenly, she flipped us over. My face was still in her crotch as she was straddling my head. Then she looked at me intensely, my face buried in her lower region, and began to slide down my body. She stopped once she was straddling my chest and smiled demonically. My nipples were very much erect. She placed her wet cunt on top of my left breast, moving it around. I whimpered in pleasure and found my body mounting the peak to my climax. She moved down further and needless to say she returned the favor.
And that’s how I found myself in this situation. And what is this situation? The one where I, Libra, was being dumped by the only guy I’ve ever truly loved in a passionate romantic sort of way. He was the one guy - no, no, no - person I could ever see myself ending up with. And I was losing him. I guess in order for you to understand this I have to start at the beginning. Don’t worry, I’ll come back to this, not gonna leave you hanging forever that’d be cruel.
It all began at the bar where we were holding my best friends bachelorette party…
Chapter One
Well, lets just put it this way, it was one of the more idiotic, drunken experiences of my life. I fucked Tommi. Only, I was the only one of the two of us that was drunk that night. And Tommi is not my boyfriend, no. My boyfriend was out of town for the week. So, when I woke up with him in a bed, not in a sleazy motel, but my apartment. You can just assume it wasn’t one of my more pretty moments. Here’s how it all went down.
My best friend, Cherry was engaged to a “wonderful guy,” “the love of her life” she says. It was the Saturday before her wedding, which was to be held on Tuesday. Her bachelorette party. At a bar. So, of course we all got completely smashed. I never expected it to turn out the way it did, but what’s past is past, right? Wrong. The past will come back to haunt you. Mine did. We had rented a stretch limo that night, the same driver as the one for the wedding. Well, it was supposed to be, before… Anyhow, we were partying around town after leaving the bar at about one a.m. I guess it was, entirely too shit-faced. The limousine dropped me off on the street of my apartment building. Stumbling through the doors and up the stairs, to encounter Tommi, who was perhaps too sober. Somehow, we managed to make it inside of the apartment, although I can’t recall how, miniscule details. I don’t exactly recall the chain of events leading up to the sex, but I remember quite a bit about the sex itself that night, though not as much as when he came back and I was sober that time. Tommi is, was, always will be, a sleazebag in all respects, but to me…to me he was different. That is to say, he acted differently around me, with me, about me. He wasn’t such a sleazebag all the time with me. We had been friends long before the days of pal’s weddings’ and bachelor or bachelorette parties. Long before getting college degrees. Long before applying for credit cards, and parties at three a.m. Long before high school graduation, and nights of drinking for the heck of it, just for the simple pleasure of knowing we were breaking the rules. Long before my parents divorced, and long before his died. Long before ridiculous middle school phases and fads, and boy bands and concerts. Long before relationships, and commitment, and swiping the v-card. Long before boyfriends and girlfriends, and heartache and breakups. And second chances, and first kisses or dates. Before jealously, and popularity contests, and arguments with your folks or about your folks or between your folks. Before moving from place to place because your parents would never settle down. Before Tommi came to live with us because he didn’t have anywhere else to go. Maybe just a little before the days of the wonderful cardboard boxes that could take you a million wonderful places as long as you imagined them. And, I know, for sure, we knew each other long before he fell in love. And so much longer before than when he mended my heart and broke my heart. And showed me a side of him I’d never seen before. Long before he made promises he couldn’t keep, and ones he wouldn’t keep. And way long ago, before I died inside.
That night, still so fresh in my head, of what I remember at least, still haunts my thoughts today.
The sex was great. It was so much better the second time, but that doesn’t make my opinion of that first drunken night any less great. It wasn’t the first time we had slept with each other, but that had been so long ago and we had been completely inexperienced. The first time we had sex together was the first time we had sex period. We had made a pact that if we were still virgins by the time we both had turned seventeen then we’d have sex with the other. So, basically, if he had still been a virgin at seventeen, but I hadn’t I would have had sex with him or if I had still been a virgin at seventeen but he hadn’t he would have sex with me, and the last, which is what actually happened, If neither of us had had sex by seventeen, we’d do it together. So, we pretty much set ourselves up so that the only way we wouldn’t have had sex with each other at seventeen is if neither of us had still been a virgin. It was a percentage deal of seventy-five to twenty-five. And we landed ourselves right smack dab in the middle of that seventy-five percentage area. I have to tell you, the first time was probably one of the worst sexual experiences for me. And it wasn’t Tommi, or me, it was just the lack of connection and familiarity or skill. After a few years undergoing the act more and more, we each became better.
The night I was drunk, some of it’s a blur but I got little flashes of detailed memories every now and then. I won’t give them to you because they may not make sense. So let’s just skip to the morning part.
I woke up to exploding pain caused by the burning light streaming onto my eyelids from the open shades in the next room. I felt like my skull was about to explode and I groaned. I reluctantly opened my eyes only to immediately shut them closed again. So, naturally it took me a good say twenty minutes before I conjured up enough strength in my body to take notice to the fact that their was a form laying beside me. I automatically squealed and jumped out of bed too quickly for my aching body, whose limbs cried out to me in protest. I instantly regretted said action as squealing also tends to further the pain of skull-pounding headaches caused by hangovers. Thank god, I didn’t drink Champaign. Oh no. I learned my lesson about that. You see, if you drink too much champaign the night before, instead of having a hangover the next day, you’ll still be drunk because of your body’s inability to process or digest it or whatever. Nope, instead I drank, I believe, beer, rum, rum and coke, vodka, scotch, gin, martini, pina colada, and pretty much everything else the bar owned. And in the morning, I was flat broke. All I had to show for it was a massive migrane, Tommi in my bed with no idea how he got there, and a major hole burnt into my pocket. Yup, I was a mess. Oh, and that’s not all. After I put all the pieces together I figured I also had incriminating evidence that I had cheated on my boyfriend. My life was great in that moment, I felt the best damn fucking feelings I had ever felt in my entire life. Note the sarcasm. That was the moment it all came crashing down on me. What is it? Life. That was the moment I would later come to remember as the defining one. The moment that changes your life. Forever. And I was there.
Chapter Two
You see, normally I’m a very faithful person. Faithful to my friends. Faithful to my family. To my boyfriend. However, occasionally, I tend to stray away from my morals and common sense, and cause disaster. Like now, for instance.
I decided that before I dealt with any other of my current problems, I had to do something about this massive headache that was currently ripping my skull apart. I sat up in bed, no lack of pain here, people, and groaned. I heard the sheets ruffle behind me, as I held my skull together. Carefully standing up, I trotted, slowly, very slowly, to the bathroom. Unfortunately, things just weren’t starting off well for me today. As soon as I opened the medicine cabinet above the bathroom sink, I was attacked. By a barrage of pill bottles. Lovely. Just lovely.
I heard shuffling and then the pitter patter of bare feet walking across the kitchen floor then quiet as the feet made their way along the carpeted floor to the bathroom. I was leaned over the sink, which had caught a few of the fallen bottles, holding my temples and whimpering pathetically. And, naked, might I mention. Tommi, who stood in the doorway wearing only boxer briefs, himself, calmly walked over behind me, reached over me to where the aspirin still stood on a shelf, opened it, took out four, and closed it again. He put it on the counter, in which the sink was connected to, and held out his hand, open palmed, where the pills set. He calmly moved his other hand, soothingly, up and down my bare back.
“Come on,” he said, receiving a whimper from me at the sudden noise. “Come on, Li,” he whispered this time, right beside my ear. Eyes closed, I took the drugs from him, and swallowed them. No liquid required. He stood there for a moment still, running his hand along my backside. Slowly, I turned around, facing him. I was not ashamed at my lack of clothes. Was not embarrassed. I looked right at his bare chest, and leaned right against it, wrapping my arms around him, as a tear streamed down my face. He wrapped his own ropy arms around my nude form and held me.
That’s all. He didn’t shush me. Didn’t whisper comforting words. As if he knew words couldn’t comfort me. He didn’t wipe my tears. He just…held me. The best thing he could’ve done for me.
I don’t remember how long we stood there. It seemed like hours, but at the same time, it seemed like only seconds. It’s hard to explain.
Eventually, though, I stopped crying. He didn’t stop hugging me to him, though. Finally, when I felt strong enough to move, I turned my head to rest my chin on his chest, looking up at his face, looking down to mine. Finally, when I felt strong enough for words, I mumbled that I was sorry. He just looked at me, knowingly. We let go and he said “Call him.” Simple as that.
Was he crazy? If I called him, then I’d lose him. And I loved my boyfriend. Didn’t I?
“I can’t,” I whisper. “I can’t. I’ll lose him.”
“You have to tell him eventually. He needs to know.”
“But…I can’t. I lo - ”
Tommi looked at me pointedly.
“Don’t you dare,” he commands. “Don’t you dare tell me that you love that jerk when I know the truth.”
“Oh, really?” I snap, sarcastically. “And what is that, Tommi?”
“You don’t.”
“Who are you to tell me that? I do love him. And he’s not a jerk,” I inform him.
“Why are you lying to me?” Tommi asked.
“I’m not.”
“You are. If you love someone, no matter how drunk you get, you control yourself. You don’t sleep with someone that you don’t lo - ”
“Don’t you dare!” I push him back so that he hits the wall. He lets me. “And how the hell would you know so much about love, huh?” I snap. “I’ve never seen you last in any relationship long enough to go on a third date! So don’t talk to me about love. I know damn well what it is, and you don’t.”
“What?!” he screams. Not helping my head. “Why do you think I never stay with one girl for long?! It’s certainly not because I can’t love, Li!” he paused.
“Then humor me. Why?” I say, resisting the urge to grab my temples again. No signs of weakness here. No siree.
“It’s because I couldn’t have the girl I do love! And none of them have even come close, Libra,” Tommi cried out.
“Well, then, whoever this girl is, let her go. She’s not worth it.”
“Oh, she is so worth it.”
“Alright. Who is this ditz? I want her name, social security number, address. Tell me who I have to kill,” I say, grinning a little.
“This isn’t a joke, Li,” he started. So unlike Tommi. “This is serious.”
“Who is she, dammit?”
“SHE’S YOU!” he yelled, bringing me to a complete halt. Everything shut down. “You are the girl that I love. That I’ve lo - ”
“Mm…no. Stop.” I’m panicking. Oh, god, I’m panicking. I’m shaking. I’m paling. Having trouble breathing. What to do…what to do… Oh, god. What the fuck do I do?!
Tommi advances. But I wave my right hand at him to stop, while holding my left hand to my mouth. Suddenly, I felt as if someone kept punching me in the stomach as nausea crept over me. Before I knew it, I was head over toilet, letting out all the affects of this morning and the booze from the night before.
Great Fucking Way to Start off My Sunday Morning.
Chapter Three
I’m going to hell, I think, as I imagine my grandmother going to church every Sunday morning, like the studious catholic girl she was. I wasn’t raised in a very religious environment, but I was pretty sure that what I had been experiencing on this Sunday morning wasn’t going to put me in good graces with the big man upstairs. I’m sure my dead catholic grandmother was probably cursing my name up in heaven right about now. That bitch.
All of it was too much to handle. How or why Tommi thought I was ready to hear something like that with everything that I had already discovered and had been stressing over that morning, is beyond me. Like I needed a bombshell dropped on me now, of all times.
What do you say to that? I’m sorry, Tommi? I don’t love you? I don’t want to hurt him. I just want things to go back to the way they were before I found out. Before I slept with Tommi. Before I ruined my life.
Okay, maybe that’s a bit drastic, but that’s how I felt. Like my whole life that I’d worked so hard to build up, was crashing down around me with one quick sweep.
“You got all that from a toilet bowl?” I heard. I turned my head around to look at Tommi.
“What?” I say.
“You got all that from barfing in a toilet bowl?” he asked again. Had I said all of that out loud?
“Shit.”
“What were you thinking?” Tommi asked, curiously.
“What do you mean?” I say, worried. “What did I say?”
“That you wanted things back the way they used to be and about how it felt like you were ruining your life.” I breathed out a puff of air. “So, what were you thinking about?”
“I can’t deal with this right now,” I said. “Or ever.”
“You have to.”
“Get out,” I told him pointing toward the bathroom door.
“What?!” Tommi exclaimed, startled.
“Get. Out.”
“You’re not seriously throwing me out are you?”
“Get. Out. NOW!” I scream. He stared at me, horrified. “This isn’t a game, Tommi. Get out.”
“But, Libra…I - ” Tommi started.
“No, Tommi! Stop!” I interjected. “Please, just go. I need some solitude right now. Just go.”
Tommi, though, ever the stubborn and reluctant, wouldn’t leave me. “Libra,” he began again, and I sighed in agitation. “Li, I just…I just wanted to help.”
“No, T. You’re not helping. Please. If you really want to help me right now - ”
“I do, Li. You know I do. Please, just let me,” he pleaded. I would say beg, but Tommi never begs. He has too much pride. So do I. And I don’t back down. He knows.
“Let me finish,” I whisper. He nodded, and leaned back against the wall, waiting. Waiting for me. To speak. To think. To…want him.
I was leaning against the toilet, nude, sitting on the tiled floor.
He was leaning against the pastel-colored wall, in only his boxer shorts, standing. Staring. Staring down at me. Staring and waiting.
“I need you to leave. I need to be alone. I need…I need you to understand, and even if you don’t, then I at least need you to respect my privacy and my needs. I can’t tell you how much I need you…but right now…I need - ”
“I get it,” he snapped, though quietly. He heaved a sigh. “I know, you need time. You need space. You need…distance. I’ll respect that. But I’m not going to stop needing you. I’m not going to stop being here. I’ll leave, for now.” And with that, he…left.
I waited about ten minutes, unmoving, listening for the sound of the closing door. When the sound of the click came, I released a huffy breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding in. I didn’t move from the bathroom floor for a while. Instead I sat, curled my knees up to my bare chest hugging them to me in a fetal-like position and rocking back and forth in a ball. My eyes were all cried out, but it poured inside. My eyes were glassy, and staring off into space. I was in a different place right now. What scared me, though, was that I didn’t know where that place was. Actually, that’s an understatement, I was more then scared…I was terrified. I was panicky. I was thrown. Thrown into disarray. Into chaos. Confusion. What was I doing?
Chapter Four
After, I don’t even know how long, I uncurled my body from it’s tangled position and leaned on the toilet for support as I shakily stood up. I groaned from frustration and exhaustion.
Still in the nude, I trotted the few steps over to the sink and looked in to examine the still fallen pill bottles, and began depositing them back into their rightful place on the shelves hidden behind the mirror above the sink.
Once I had made sure the entire display of pill bottles were replaced, though not very neatly, might I add, I felt another wave of nausea. I just barely made it over to my faithful friend, the toilet bowl, before I emptied the meals I’d eaten throughout the past five or so days, seemingly. Wiping my mouth I reached up and flushed the toilet, and had luckily leaned my still-aching head away from it or else I might’ve gotten some backsplash thrown my way, although the whooshing sound did nothing for my migraine.
I closed the lid, standing up once again, and making my way back over to the sink. Grabbing my toothbrush I promptly began washing the odor of upchuck and alcoholic beverages from my mouth. As I scrubbed my teeth, tongue and gums thoroughly, I looked in the mirror and stopped brushing to analyze myself for the first time that morning.
Guess what? I looked like shit. Correction. I looked dead. Suddenly sick of myself, I angrily spit out the toothpaste and rinsed off my mouth, and, tossing the brush back into the cup, I stormed out, back to the bedroom. I took one look at the bed and the flashes started, reminding me of my wrongdoing. I didn’t know how much I could handle to remember right now, so I tried as much as possible to avoid looking at the bed. As I moved toward the dresser to collect my clothes, I felt like a two year old holding up my hand to the left side of my face to block the bed from my view.
In my clothes drawer, I picked the most modest bra and set of underwear I could find, purposely made sure that they didn’t match, and put them on. Next, I stalked over to my closet with objective and selected the most comfortable shirt and shorts I could find, slipping them on my body.
My original intent to coming back to the bedroom had been to crawl in it and stay there for the rest of my life, but seeing as how I couldn’t even bare to look at the bed at this present moment, I somberly made my way out into the living room to lay on couch, which I hoped wouldn’t become my permanent bed.
Of course, the way this whole morning had been playing out, I shouldn’t have been surprised that no sooner had I plopped on the couch with a quiet poof and a semi-contented, semi-stressed sigh, my landline rang. Now, sighing again, this time in irritation, I sat back up and pushed up from the couch to grab the phone, who I assumed would be Tommi calling. Needless to say I was surprised the caller I.D. showed up as Derek. My boyfriend.
“Shit,” I cursed in complete and utter shock. And again I was back to asking my self the question: What the fuck do I do now?
Chapter Five
Well, I decided it was better that I didn’t ignore it, although my gut instinct told me not to answer. I couldn’t avoid him forever. I clicked the talk button on my receiver and said a solemn greeting.
“Hey, baby,” Derek purred. “You miss me?” With a sigh, I lied to my boyfriend.
“Yeah, I can’t wait until you get home.” I was dreading his arrival, but thank god I at least had three more days to think about what I was going to say.
“Good, because we got finished early and I’ll be home tomorrow night.” Or at least I thought I had. Shit. So, unfortunately, my irrational thinking kicked in.
“I slept with somebody,” I sighed.
“What are you talking about, Lib?” Derek said.
“Cherry’s bachelorette party was last night and…” I paused not sure how to word it.
“And? What?” But by the tone he was using I could tell he already knew how everything had played out, I just hoped he wouldn’t figure out who it had been. I really didn’t want to lose my best friend.
“And…I got sloshed and had se - slept with someone.” I didn’t know why I couldn’t say sex, but maybe it was too much of an understatement. No. No, that was wrong.
“So, how was it?” Derek asked, surprising me.
“What? Aren’t you jealous? Concerned? Pissed? Something?” I was completely and utterly baffled now.
“Is that what you wanted to happen by telling me that? You wanted to make me jealous?” Where was he going with this? Why wasn’t he mad at me?
“No, I was just trying to be honest because I lo - ” I couldn’t say that either.
“You love me? Are you sure?” his tone seemed genuine, concerned.
“Yes,” I replied firmly. “And I’m sorry - ” But he cut me off.
“Who was it, Libra? Who did you sleep with?” he suddenly demanded, maybe he was upset. But then again he had every right to be, didn’t he?
“Why does that even matter?”
“It just does.”
“Nobody, okay. Just some guy. Why are you being so defensive?” I abruptly growled.
“Don’t I deserve to be defensive? You just told me you cheated.”
“Yes, I cheated, but at least I was intoxicated,” I reminded him. “And lonely.”
“What are you trying to say?” he began treading lightly, afraid his next step might be the wrong one. Not me, I was on a roll.
“When you cheated, you were fully aware of what you were doing, even came back for more.”
“I cheated with you!” he screamed. “Not on you!”
“Turn around is fair play then.”
“No it’s not.”
“How do you think that girl felt?” I grilled. “Do you think she wanted to be cheated on either? And she really loved you.”
“I thought you did too,” he whispered, suddenly trying to make himself a victim. No, I wouldn’t let that happen, we were both at fault here as far as I was concerned. It wasn’t just me. And he needed to realize that.
“Why did you do it anyway?” I asked. “Why would you cheat on someone who truly loves you for someone like me?”
“Because…I don’t know. I did it for a lot of reasons. But it doesn’t matter now, because I fell in love with you,” Derek supplied.
“And broke her heart,” I reminded him once again. “And it was only a matter of time before you did the same to me, so maybe it’s just better this way.”
“You never did, did you? Not really,” Derek asked voice full of unmasked emotion. “I could tell.”
“Never did what?” I snapped. I was getting irritated at his…ugh.
“Love,” he said simply. “Not me, at least.” My mouth fell open, and I stayed silent for lack of speech. “I didn’t think so,” were Derek’s final words to me before he hung up and I was left holding the phone to my ear and listening to the dial tone that signaled the end of a very meaningful relationship, whether or not the meaning had been genuine.
I could still hear the droll of the beeping dial tone as the phone when sailing toward the ground and fell on the floor with a loud kerplunk.
And then here's the most recent chapter, Chapter Six:
Chapter Six
I stayed on the couch for the rest of the day, moping pathetically. I couldn’t help it. I was devastated. No matter what I thought of him, I never thought it would end like that.
I was harsh on him for a mistake that I had made. I brought up things that were much more comfortable staying in the past, and I began to think about that girl again. The one he cheated with me on. The one who gave him her love and expected nothing in return, but hoped for it. He used her. And now, I had used him, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
I thought I had loved Derek. I knew I cared for him. I wished I hadn’t hurt him. I wanted nothing more than to forget about the possibility of Tommi and me being together. How could I face him again? But, still, I felt like I needed him now, more than any other time.
But my resolve had faded, and so I did nothing but lay on the couch wishing I could float away into nothing. And before I drifted off to sleep for the first time since I had woken up with horrible repercussions from a bachelorette party and a night of wild drunken sex, I thought to myself that I wondered if anyone could ever truly know me.
When I awoke, my blanket had fallen to the floor and the light from the hallway of the apartment building seeped in through the bottom of the door to land, gracefully on my cheek. It was dark outside, so I assumed it was pretty late. Slowly, carefully, I sat up, noticing my head no longer ached as much as it had this morning, but I decided to take another aspirin, anyway.
Making my way from the living room to the adjoining bathroom, I tripped over the rug just in front of the bathroom door and landed quite ungracefully as I, at the last minute caught myself with my hand, bending my wrist back. I cried out in pain and let my body drop to the floor. Rolling over, I coddled my wrist to my chest in agony, and moaned and whimpered like a two year old. I did, however, take notice to the fact that this was the second time today I had felt like a toddler.
From the constant throbbing in my joint due to the fall, I made the deduction that my wrist was either sprained or broken. Shit. Attempting to sit up again without any support from my arms proved to be difficult, but eventually, I succeeded with a hiss. I turned my body and leaned it against the wall for support. I was suddenly exhausted. I’m not a crier, but that doesn’t mean I don’t cry. A few tears slipped down my face now from the affects of the day and the now excruciating physical ache. But the physical ache still didn’t hurt as much as the emotional ache did.
Conjuring up energy from somewhere, I huffed, kneeled on my knees and pushed up on them to stand up, one leg at a time. It was then that I realized my ankle was hurt too as pain shot up my leg when I tried to walk on it. So, limping and coddling my arm I carefully, slowly made my way to the medicine cabinet and grabbed the originally intended bottle of aspirin, and limped back out of the bathroom to the phone. I couldn’t open the bottle by myself, which was my first problem. I picked up the phone as I hobbled over to the couch, groaning and moaning pitifully.
I had no idea who to call. I didn’t really consider this an emergency. Sighing, I laid back down on the couch, propping my leg up and carefully resting my arm across my stomach, having no energy to get up. The phone rested on my chest, in my cleavage area. I was currently trying to open the pill bottle with my right hand and my teeth. It took about an hour before I actually got it opened and I swear once I did I downed half the contents of the container, which probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas.
I passed out.
The next day, Monday, instead of going to work, I called in sick, due to my still, useless limbs. Cherry called me, as soon as I hung up with my boss. She told me that she had just picked up my Maid of Honor dress and that she was coming by to drop it off to me, and asked if I wanted to go out to lunch, to which I promptly told her that I didn’t feel like going anywhere or doing anything. She would be devastated when I told her that I wouldn’t be able to walk down that aisle at her wedding because of my injury. It would just figure wouldn’t it? She was bringing over takeout.
The door had been left unlocked by Tommi the previous day, when I had made him get out, so I hadn’t needed to worry about opening the door for Cherry, she just let herself in. When she saw me with an icepack on my ankle and a bag of frozen vegetables, peas to be specific, laying across my wrist, both of which I had retrieved this morning when I had to use the bathroom facilities, laid back down, and hadn’t gotten up since, she rushed over demanding to know what had happened. There’s Cherry for you.
I calmly told her about my fall. But, of course she was panicky and frantic about how this had to happen the day before her wedding and how I could be such a klutz. And then, she saw the look on my face and her concern completely changed. Focusing on me again, she could see it on my face.
“Oh no,” she sighed. “He dumped you.” I brought my not completely useless hand and rubbed it down my face.
“Actually, I’m not sure who did the dumping,” I commented, raw. I sat up, with some difficulty, and she sat on the sofa in the space next to my feet as my back leaned against the arm of the couch. She now picked up the takeout bag and began pulling food out as she exclaimed, “Tell me what happened.”
“I slept with Tommi,” I said, my voice hoarse. She looked over at me, suddenly, frozen in shock with a slack jaw.
“You didn’t!” she exclaimed, but I nodded. She set the paper bag back down. “You did?! You’re serious.” She seemed really shocked. “How? Why? What happened?”
“Well, you remember how drunk I was after your party,” I started. But she interjected.
“Oh, no, Libra,” she said. “You were wasted? Oh, and Tommi…oh man.”
“Can I finish please?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Cherry said.
“Tommi was here waiting for me when I came home, and one thing led to another and, well, next thing I knew I was waking up naked with him beside me in the bed, a massive migraine and nonstop nausea,” I tried explaining in the simplest form.
“Can I just ask you something?” she commented. I nodded briefly as she started taking the food out of the bag again and handing me Indian Food. “Why was he here in the first place? You know? Why was he waiting?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I mean, come on, it’s Tommi.” I opened the container and she handed me a plastic spork from the bag. I dug in. I hadn’t eaten in almost two days, I was starving.
“Okay, it just seems suspicious to me. Was he drunk too?” Cherry inquired, genuinely just curious.
“Not as far as I could tell.” Cherry froze mid-fork-raise at that and let her hand drop back down.
“Why would he sleep with you if he knew you were drunk?” Cherry paused for affect and consideration. “And he was sober.”
“Because…” I thought about it. “Well, it’s like I’ve said before, Tommi is a sleazebag.”
“Yeah, but…it’s you,” she pressed. “Don’t get me wrong, taking advantage of a girl while she’s drunk seems like something Tommi would do, but…it’s you. I never would have expected it with you.” I thought about what she said.
“He didn’t take advantage of me, Cher,” I mumbled looking at my tray as I played with my food, no longer shoveling it into my mouth as I began to lose my appetite.
“Really?” Cherry asked, concerned, leaning her head down to meet my gaze. “Are you sure?”
We didn’t talk much the rest of the meal, and I thought about what Cherry had said to me. It had gotten too quiet so I turned on the television to the cooking channel, which I normally enjoyed watching. But today I couldn’t focus.
Cherry cleaned up our food and washed her hands, while I sat there feeling useless in my own apartment. She brought out the Maid of Honor dress she had been so proud of, bragging, claiming I would love it. I didn’t wear dresses, but I had figured I could make an exception for my friends wedding. I was surprised to find, however, that it wasn’t even really a frilly dress. It was pretty simple, my kind of style. It was burgundy colored with spaghetti straps and the length came down to about just above my knees. It buttoned up in the back, and the bottom hung loose like one of those dresses in a Special K commercial . I had to admit, if I were to wear a dress, she definitely picked one that was my speed. She still intended on me being up at the altar next to her, somehow.
After she zipped up the dress in a protector case and placed it carefully in my closet, she turned back to me and stated that we were going to get me an x-ray, to which I fought wasn’t necessary, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer, and, despite my normal stubbornness, I was in no condition to argue with her.
She drove me to the orthopedics office. Where the casted my arm and gave me a brace for my ankle. They also gave me a crutch for walking, and Cherry insisted that I still walk down the aisle, and that they would set a chair by the altar that I could sit in if I was putting too much pressure on my ankle while standing. I reluctantly agreed.
I didn’t really know the guy Cherry was marrying. All I knew about him was that his name was Chuck, and I’m pretty sure he is a friend of Derek’s, my ex as of yesterday. This sucked because that meant that he’d most likely be at the wedding. I thought about it, and realized that this could have been the reason he was coming back early. I hadn’t even thought about it until now. Abruptly, I turned to Cherry.
“Is Derek supposed to be there?” I wrenched out, chillingly. She looked a little anxious at my tone.
“Be where?” she said.
“At the wedding.”
“Oh, uh. I’m not sure to tell you the truth,” she said turning as we walked out the door of the orthopedics office together, myself walking a bit slower do to my ankle. She held the door for me.
“How can you not even know who is going to be at your own wedding?” I asked.
“Well, I mean, he was originally. He was the best man, which worked out great when you were going steady with him,” she added on a side note, and I gave her a pointed look. “Right, sorry.” I loved Cherry, she was one of my best friends, well, her and Tommi were pretty much my only friends at this point, but I’d rather have two best friends than a bunch of meaningless friendships. Anyway, I love Cherry, but sometimes that girl just does not know what the wrong things to say are, and she always ends up saying them.
I nodded at her to continue.
“Anyway, Chuck said he couldn’t be the best man because he had a last minute business trip,” she finished.
“He called to tell me he was coming back early,” I said. “That’s when I told him about Tommi.”
“Oh, well then I’m not sure. Chuck didn’t say anything to me about it.”
“Maybe he doesn’t know yet,” I suggested, which was highly plausible. I already had enough to worry about and now, this.
I went back to Cherry’s house with her for a while. She showed me all the finishing touches that had been done on everything wedding related. Kidding, she and I weren’t like that. Cherry wasn’t obsessive, and I hated talking about things like that. Plus, I’m pretty sure she was trying not to act nervous about the whole ordeal. I felt it would’ve been my duty as the best friend to comfort her and convince her that it would all be okay and that he loved her, but I really couldn’t, partly because I didn’t know him.
I felt kind of bad, because I think part of the reason I didn’t know this guy was that Tommi had been hogging all my time, and Derek. And the other reason I didn’t was because I hadn’t really thought they were a serious couple.
Cherry went to the bathroom.
Cherry, Tommi, and myself used to have pizza and beer nights every Saturday, but after college the tradition had only lasted a year or so more. I had decided, despite the fact that Tommi wasn’t here, that we needed to have one last pizza and beer night before she got married. I didn’t have to worry about going to the reception the night before the wedding or anything because we had done it last Thursday.
I called in the pizza while she was in the bathroom, and called the local liquor store and asked the owner, “Stinky” Pete, if he could send a few cases over because of my injury. We had a good rep with Pete, so he closed early without any hesitation to bring us over as much alcohol as we wanted.
When Cherry came out of the bathroom I told her my plan and she smiled.
“You calling Tommi, too, or not?” she asked. Again. She said the wrong thing. I looked at her. “Never mind,” she quickly amended, before I could respond. I brushed it off. I was determined to make this pizza and beer night a success.
We ended up getting a little tipsy and goofing around. Chuck had come home and gone to sleep at about eleven, and I think we woke him up a few times. I think he already knew he might be driving me home in the morning.
Just as I had expected I would, I stayed the night at Cherry’s house. I couldn’t really drive anywhere because of my ankle, and Cherry was already home and had been drinking so I just slept on the couch. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Chuck was the first to wake up, and when I heard him rustling around in the kitchen, I woke up. Sitting up I heard the refrigerator open and close again. I stood up and walked calmly to the bathroom, brushing my teeth, and then entered the kitchen. He was preparing to cook an omelet it looked like. When he heard my sticky footsteps on the tiled floor, he turned to look at me over his shoulder.
“Good morning,” he said, turning back to the frying pan in front of him.
“Morning,” I replied with a yawn. I trotted over to the freezer and pulled out a package of bacon and one of sausage, and set them on the counter as I began heating up Cherry’s indoor grill. I hopped up on the counter between the meat products and Chuck. I looked at him. “You nervous?” I asked.
“A little,” he said. It seemed as though he didn’t really want to talk about it.
“What kind of omelet are you making?” I asked.
“Vegetarian,” he answered.
“You’re a vegetarian?” I asked, shocked. Cherry would marry someone who didn’t eat meat?
“Well, I used to be a strict vegetarian,” he started. “But I’ll eat meat every now and again. But, for some reason I never liked it on my omelets.” He looked up at me, away from the omelet, and smiled. He was making an effort to get to know me, and I found that he was actually very easy to get along with. I wasn’t in love with the guy or anything, but I felt confident that he wouldn’t hurt Cherry.
“I couldn’t survive without meat!” I sighed, dramatically, jumping off the counter with a smile as the grill’s orange light came on, signaling it was hot enough to cook. I opened the package of bacon and began laying the slices down, listening to them sizzle. I looked up and noticed he had been staring at me. When he saw me look at him we both chuckled.
“So, I’ve heard a lot about you, but I feel as though I don’t know you that well,” he began, flipping the egg over. “I mean, I’m marrying Cherry and I don’t even know her best friend. Like I don’t know anything about that part of her life.” He kept grinning, looking at me. I looked back up at him as I opened the sausage package.
“Well, I only really need to know one thing about you,” I said, pausing before putting the links down.
“What’s that?” he asked looking back down to the pan.
“Do you love her?” No trace of a smile now. I would be able to tell whether or not he really did by how he reacted.
“Yeah, I do,” he looked up, pausing in his cooking to look at me, seriously. And when I nodded, he smiled again.
“Do you ever stop smiling?” I asked, lightheartedly and we laughed, waking Cherry up. She came trotting down the stairs and into the kitchen within ten minutes.
“What’s all the racket down here?” she asked and we both looked at her and then at each other and laughed again. Chuck seemed pretty shy to me, so I answered.
“Just bonding,” I said, grinning. She nodded, taking a seat at the kitchen table.
“So, what’s for breakfast?” she asked.
“Pig’s feet,” he said, turning to look at her.
“Yeah right,” she said.
“Vegetarian omelet, sausage, and bacon,” I answered.
“Isn’t that kind of contradictory?” she giggled.
“Yeah I guess so.” I could tell they were friends, but like I said before about me not getting the feeling that they were a serious couple. Well, I got the same impression from them now. I didn’t know the ins and outs if the situation, and I was trying to be less judging. But I still wondered if they were right for each other.
After breakfast, Chuck drove me back to my apartment, as I had presumed he would. The car ride was interesting to say the least. I learned what type of music he listened to, and it didn’t appeal to me, but, to each his own.
I examined him, and really got to look at him and take in his features for the first time since meeting him. He had a hazel kind of hair-color, and his hair was cut short, but looked like it had grown out a little since his last cut. I briefly wondered if he would be getting it cut today or if he liked it the way it was.
His eyes were a dark brown, contrasting his eyes a bit, and his nose was long. His ears seemed average sized to me and his ear lobe wasn’t attached at the bottom like mine was. His head was oval shaped and skinny.
I assessed that his favorite color was probably green from his clothing, his car, and well, he just seemed like a green type of person to me. I didn’t think he had any tattoos, at least not visible ones, but he didn’t seem at all like a tattoo type of person either.
He was shy. One of those, well not meek, per say, but one of those bordering meek guys. I imagined him being a fidgety kind of guy.
On the other hand, Cherry had bright red hair, although natural. She had olive green eyes that I had always been jealous of. Mine were deep bright blue.
Cherry was voluptuous, and not at all skimpy, although not fat, but she average weight, and where Chuck was tall, like myself, Cherry was around five foot two.
She was outgoing, a high contrast to Chuck, who also seemed to be modest.
I didn’t know what to make of the two.
I wondered what Cherry saw in him.
This is The Down Side Of Things (up until my most recent chapter):
Warning: Heavy Content in Prelude.
Prelude-Unreasonable Attraction
“Finger me.”
“What?!”
“Finger me. I’m so horny.” She whined at me as she removed her clothes. She gracefully sat on the floor and leaned back spreading her legs open. I was shocked, to say the least. And becoming extremely turned on myself, I could feel.
“You’re serious?” I asked trying to brush off my physical need. I knew she could tell though. That I was soaking wet, I mean. I guess something showed on my face, but I was still a bit hesitant. Wouldn’t you be to? The most I had ever experienced with another female before was a drunken make out session, and I only had Tommi’s word on that one seeing as how I blacked out. And now, here I was, dripping vaginal fluid over a former “working girl” as they say. I didn’t understand it. Why the sudden physical attraction to a girl, but not just any girl, a girl who used to be a hooker.
“Stop looking like a deer caught in the headlights and get down here. I know you want to.” She looked further down…and I literally saw more liquid gushing out of her welcoming vagina. “And you might wanna take your pants off before you stain them.”
Without looking away from her sopping wet clit, I removed my shirt and jeans. She gave me an intense look and I removed my bra, my breasts popping out. And lastly my thin layered lace underwear to reveal my drenched soft tender pink pussy. I was watching her eyes now and as she looked up at my nude needing form. I watched her suggestive, horny expression change into one of pure ecstasy as she begins to moan uncontrollably. As I watched her body’s reaction, I grew wetter, if that was possible. It began running down along the contours of my thighs. She was panting and trying to catch her breath again as she looked back up at me.
“I’ve just come,” she panted, as if it wasn’t obvious. Then looking at me with a devilish, seductive smirk she says “You wanna take care of it for me,” and spread her legs open further, and dipping her finger down into the come. Holding it out for me to taste. I knelt down on the floor in front of her taking her pointer finger into my mouth, I heard her sigh. My tongue twirled around her finger, wiping it clean. I removed her finger from my mouth, looking at her. She opened her eyes, and twirled her hands in my hair, slowly dragging my face down toward her clitoris. My tongue extended again as I licked and sucked the come and vaginal fluids off of her skin, though it never seemed to disappear. She moaned and I began to feel the needing itch. She tasted amazing though and I really needed to drink all of her or else I thought I’d die of thirst. As I continued to dip my tongue way deep down into her vagina, I began adding my fingers into the mix as well. She was panting and moaning and groaning, and I knew she was getting close again. I scraped my teeth and she came to me, screaming and practically ripping my hair out of my head. And I sucked her dry. Then, suddenly, she flipped us over. My face was still in her crotch as she was straddling my head. Then she looked at me intensely, my face buried in her lower region, and began to slide down my body. She stopped once she was straddling my chest and smiled demonically. My nipples were very much erect. She placed her wet cunt on top of my left breast, moving it around. I whimpered in pleasure and found my body mounting the peak to my climax. She moved down further and needless to say she returned the favor.
And that’s how I found myself in this situation. And what is this situation? The one where I, Libra, was being dumped by the only guy I’ve ever truly loved in a passionate romantic sort of way. He was the one guy - no, no, no - person I could ever see myself ending up with. And I was losing him. I guess in order for you to understand this I have to start at the beginning. Don’t worry, I’ll come back to this, not gonna leave you hanging forever that’d be cruel.
It all began at the bar where we were holding my best friends bachelorette party…
Chapter One
Well, lets just put it this way, it was one of the more idiotic, drunken experiences of my life. I fucked Tommi. Only, I was the only one of the two of us that was drunk that night. And Tommi is not my boyfriend, no. My boyfriend was out of town for the week. So, when I woke up with him in a bed, not in a sleazy motel, but my apartment. You can just assume it wasn’t one of my more pretty moments. Here’s how it all went down.
My best friend, Cherry was engaged to a “wonderful guy,” “the love of her life” she says. It was the Saturday before her wedding, which was to be held on Tuesday. Her bachelorette party. At a bar. So, of course we all got completely smashed. I never expected it to turn out the way it did, but what’s past is past, right? Wrong. The past will come back to haunt you. Mine did. We had rented a stretch limo that night, the same driver as the one for the wedding. Well, it was supposed to be, before… Anyhow, we were partying around town after leaving the bar at about one a.m. I guess it was, entirely too shit-faced. The limousine dropped me off on the street of my apartment building. Stumbling through the doors and up the stairs, to encounter Tommi, who was perhaps too sober. Somehow, we managed to make it inside of the apartment, although I can’t recall how, miniscule details. I don’t exactly recall the chain of events leading up to the sex, but I remember quite a bit about the sex itself that night, though not as much as when he came back and I was sober that time. Tommi is, was, always will be, a sleazebag in all respects, but to me…to me he was different. That is to say, he acted differently around me, with me, about me. He wasn’t such a sleazebag all the time with me. We had been friends long before the days of pal’s weddings’ and bachelor or bachelorette parties. Long before getting college degrees. Long before applying for credit cards, and parties at three a.m. Long before high school graduation, and nights of drinking for the heck of it, just for the simple pleasure of knowing we were breaking the rules. Long before my parents divorced, and long before his died. Long before ridiculous middle school phases and fads, and boy bands and concerts. Long before relationships, and commitment, and swiping the v-card. Long before boyfriends and girlfriends, and heartache and breakups. And second chances, and first kisses or dates. Before jealously, and popularity contests, and arguments with your folks or about your folks or between your folks. Before moving from place to place because your parents would never settle down. Before Tommi came to live with us because he didn’t have anywhere else to go. Maybe just a little before the days of the wonderful cardboard boxes that could take you a million wonderful places as long as you imagined them. And, I know, for sure, we knew each other long before he fell in love. And so much longer before than when he mended my heart and broke my heart. And showed me a side of him I’d never seen before. Long before he made promises he couldn’t keep, and ones he wouldn’t keep. And way long ago, before I died inside.
That night, still so fresh in my head, of what I remember at least, still haunts my thoughts today.
The sex was great. It was so much better the second time, but that doesn’t make my opinion of that first drunken night any less great. It wasn’t the first time we had slept with each other, but that had been so long ago and we had been completely inexperienced. The first time we had sex together was the first time we had sex period. We had made a pact that if we were still virgins by the time we both had turned seventeen then we’d have sex with the other. So, basically, if he had still been a virgin at seventeen, but I hadn’t I would have had sex with him or if I had still been a virgin at seventeen but he hadn’t he would have sex with me, and the last, which is what actually happened, If neither of us had had sex by seventeen, we’d do it together. So, we pretty much set ourselves up so that the only way we wouldn’t have had sex with each other at seventeen is if neither of us had still been a virgin. It was a percentage deal of seventy-five to twenty-five. And we landed ourselves right smack dab in the middle of that seventy-five percentage area. I have to tell you, the first time was probably one of the worst sexual experiences for me. And it wasn’t Tommi, or me, it was just the lack of connection and familiarity or skill. After a few years undergoing the act more and more, we each became better.
The night I was drunk, some of it’s a blur but I got little flashes of detailed memories every now and then. I won’t give them to you because they may not make sense. So let’s just skip to the morning part.
I woke up to exploding pain caused by the burning light streaming onto my eyelids from the open shades in the next room. I felt like my skull was about to explode and I groaned. I reluctantly opened my eyes only to immediately shut them closed again. So, naturally it took me a good say twenty minutes before I conjured up enough strength in my body to take notice to the fact that their was a form laying beside me. I automatically squealed and jumped out of bed too quickly for my aching body, whose limbs cried out to me in protest. I instantly regretted said action as squealing also tends to further the pain of skull-pounding headaches caused by hangovers. Thank god, I didn’t drink Champaign. Oh no. I learned my lesson about that. You see, if you drink too much champaign the night before, instead of having a hangover the next day, you’ll still be drunk because of your body’s inability to process or digest it or whatever. Nope, instead I drank, I believe, beer, rum, rum and coke, vodka, scotch, gin, martini, pina colada, and pretty much everything else the bar owned. And in the morning, I was flat broke. All I had to show for it was a massive migrane, Tommi in my bed with no idea how he got there, and a major hole burnt into my pocket. Yup, I was a mess. Oh, and that’s not all. After I put all the pieces together I figured I also had incriminating evidence that I had cheated on my boyfriend. My life was great in that moment, I felt the best damn fucking feelings I had ever felt in my entire life. Note the sarcasm. That was the moment it all came crashing down on me. What is it? Life. That was the moment I would later come to remember as the defining one. The moment that changes your life. Forever. And I was there.
Chapter Two
You see, normally I’m a very faithful person. Faithful to my friends. Faithful to my family. To my boyfriend. However, occasionally, I tend to stray away from my morals and common sense, and cause disaster. Like now, for instance.
I decided that before I dealt with any other of my current problems, I had to do something about this massive headache that was currently ripping my skull apart. I sat up in bed, no lack of pain here, people, and groaned. I heard the sheets ruffle behind me, as I held my skull together. Carefully standing up, I trotted, slowly, very slowly, to the bathroom. Unfortunately, things just weren’t starting off well for me today. As soon as I opened the medicine cabinet above the bathroom sink, I was attacked. By a barrage of pill bottles. Lovely. Just lovely.
I heard shuffling and then the pitter patter of bare feet walking across the kitchen floor then quiet as the feet made their way along the carpeted floor to the bathroom. I was leaned over the sink, which had caught a few of the fallen bottles, holding my temples and whimpering pathetically. And, naked, might I mention. Tommi, who stood in the doorway wearing only boxer briefs, himself, calmly walked over behind me, reached over me to where the aspirin still stood on a shelf, opened it, took out four, and closed it again. He put it on the counter, in which the sink was connected to, and held out his hand, open palmed, where the pills set. He calmly moved his other hand, soothingly, up and down my bare back.
“Come on,” he said, receiving a whimper from me at the sudden noise. “Come on, Li,” he whispered this time, right beside my ear. Eyes closed, I took the drugs from him, and swallowed them. No liquid required. He stood there for a moment still, running his hand along my backside. Slowly, I turned around, facing him. I was not ashamed at my lack of clothes. Was not embarrassed. I looked right at his bare chest, and leaned right against it, wrapping my arms around him, as a tear streamed down my face. He wrapped his own ropy arms around my nude form and held me.
That’s all. He didn’t shush me. Didn’t whisper comforting words. As if he knew words couldn’t comfort me. He didn’t wipe my tears. He just…held me. The best thing he could’ve done for me.
I don’t remember how long we stood there. It seemed like hours, but at the same time, it seemed like only seconds. It’s hard to explain.
Eventually, though, I stopped crying. He didn’t stop hugging me to him, though. Finally, when I felt strong enough to move, I turned my head to rest my chin on his chest, looking up at his face, looking down to mine. Finally, when I felt strong enough for words, I mumbled that I was sorry. He just looked at me, knowingly. We let go and he said “Call him.” Simple as that.
Was he crazy? If I called him, then I’d lose him. And I loved my boyfriend. Didn’t I?
“I can’t,” I whisper. “I can’t. I’ll lose him.”
“You have to tell him eventually. He needs to know.”
“But…I can’t. I lo - ”
Tommi looked at me pointedly.
“Don’t you dare,” he commands. “Don’t you dare tell me that you love that jerk when I know the truth.”
“Oh, really?” I snap, sarcastically. “And what is that, Tommi?”
“You don’t.”
“Who are you to tell me that? I do love him. And he’s not a jerk,” I inform him.
“Why are you lying to me?” Tommi asked.
“I’m not.”
“You are. If you love someone, no matter how drunk you get, you control yourself. You don’t sleep with someone that you don’t lo - ”
“Don’t you dare!” I push him back so that he hits the wall. He lets me. “And how the hell would you know so much about love, huh?” I snap. “I’ve never seen you last in any relationship long enough to go on a third date! So don’t talk to me about love. I know damn well what it is, and you don’t.”
“What?!” he screams. Not helping my head. “Why do you think I never stay with one girl for long?! It’s certainly not because I can’t love, Li!” he paused.
“Then humor me. Why?” I say, resisting the urge to grab my temples again. No signs of weakness here. No siree.
“It’s because I couldn’t have the girl I do love! And none of them have even come close, Libra,” Tommi cried out.
“Well, then, whoever this girl is, let her go. She’s not worth it.”
“Oh, she is so worth it.”
“Alright. Who is this ditz? I want her name, social security number, address. Tell me who I have to kill,” I say, grinning a little.
“This isn’t a joke, Li,” he started. So unlike Tommi. “This is serious.”
“Who is she, dammit?”
“SHE’S YOU!” he yelled, bringing me to a complete halt. Everything shut down. “You are the girl that I love. That I’ve lo - ”
“Mm…no. Stop.” I’m panicking. Oh, god, I’m panicking. I’m shaking. I’m paling. Having trouble breathing. What to do…what to do… Oh, god. What the fuck do I do?!
Tommi advances. But I wave my right hand at him to stop, while holding my left hand to my mouth. Suddenly, I felt as if someone kept punching me in the stomach as nausea crept over me. Before I knew it, I was head over toilet, letting out all the affects of this morning and the booze from the night before.
Great Fucking Way to Start off My Sunday Morning.
Chapter Three
I’m going to hell, I think, as I imagine my grandmother going to church every Sunday morning, like the studious catholic girl she was. I wasn’t raised in a very religious environment, but I was pretty sure that what I had been experiencing on this Sunday morning wasn’t going to put me in good graces with the big man upstairs. I’m sure my dead catholic grandmother was probably cursing my name up in heaven right about now. That bitch.
All of it was too much to handle. How or why Tommi thought I was ready to hear something like that with everything that I had already discovered and had been stressing over that morning, is beyond me. Like I needed a bombshell dropped on me now, of all times.
What do you say to that? I’m sorry, Tommi? I don’t love you? I don’t want to hurt him. I just want things to go back to the way they were before I found out. Before I slept with Tommi. Before I ruined my life.
Okay, maybe that’s a bit drastic, but that’s how I felt. Like my whole life that I’d worked so hard to build up, was crashing down around me with one quick sweep.
“You got all that from a toilet bowl?” I heard. I turned my head around to look at Tommi.
“What?” I say.
“You got all that from barfing in a toilet bowl?” he asked again. Had I said all of that out loud?
“Shit.”
“What were you thinking?” Tommi asked, curiously.
“What do you mean?” I say, worried. “What did I say?”
“That you wanted things back the way they used to be and about how it felt like you were ruining your life.” I breathed out a puff of air. “So, what were you thinking about?”
“I can’t deal with this right now,” I said. “Or ever.”
“You have to.”
“Get out,” I told him pointing toward the bathroom door.
“What?!” Tommi exclaimed, startled.
“Get. Out.”
“You’re not seriously throwing me out are you?”
“Get. Out. NOW!” I scream. He stared at me, horrified. “This isn’t a game, Tommi. Get out.”
“But, Libra…I - ” Tommi started.
“No, Tommi! Stop!” I interjected. “Please, just go. I need some solitude right now. Just go.”
Tommi, though, ever the stubborn and reluctant, wouldn’t leave me. “Libra,” he began again, and I sighed in agitation. “Li, I just…I just wanted to help.”
“No, T. You’re not helping. Please. If you really want to help me right now - ”
“I do, Li. You know I do. Please, just let me,” he pleaded. I would say beg, but Tommi never begs. He has too much pride. So do I. And I don’t back down. He knows.
“Let me finish,” I whisper. He nodded, and leaned back against the wall, waiting. Waiting for me. To speak. To think. To…want him.
I was leaning against the toilet, nude, sitting on the tiled floor.
He was leaning against the pastel-colored wall, in only his boxer shorts, standing. Staring. Staring down at me. Staring and waiting.
“I need you to leave. I need to be alone. I need…I need you to understand, and even if you don’t, then I at least need you to respect my privacy and my needs. I can’t tell you how much I need you…but right now…I need - ”
“I get it,” he snapped, though quietly. He heaved a sigh. “I know, you need time. You need space. You need…distance. I’ll respect that. But I’m not going to stop needing you. I’m not going to stop being here. I’ll leave, for now.” And with that, he…left.
I waited about ten minutes, unmoving, listening for the sound of the closing door. When the sound of the click came, I released a huffy breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding in. I didn’t move from the bathroom floor for a while. Instead I sat, curled my knees up to my bare chest hugging them to me in a fetal-like position and rocking back and forth in a ball. My eyes were all cried out, but it poured inside. My eyes were glassy, and staring off into space. I was in a different place right now. What scared me, though, was that I didn’t know where that place was. Actually, that’s an understatement, I was more then scared…I was terrified. I was panicky. I was thrown. Thrown into disarray. Into chaos. Confusion. What was I doing?
Chapter Four
After, I don’t even know how long, I uncurled my body from it’s tangled position and leaned on the toilet for support as I shakily stood up. I groaned from frustration and exhaustion.
Still in the nude, I trotted the few steps over to the sink and looked in to examine the still fallen pill bottles, and began depositing them back into their rightful place on the shelves hidden behind the mirror above the sink.
Once I had made sure the entire display of pill bottles were replaced, though not very neatly, might I add, I felt another wave of nausea. I just barely made it over to my faithful friend, the toilet bowl, before I emptied the meals I’d eaten throughout the past five or so days, seemingly. Wiping my mouth I reached up and flushed the toilet, and had luckily leaned my still-aching head away from it or else I might’ve gotten some backsplash thrown my way, although the whooshing sound did nothing for my migraine.
I closed the lid, standing up once again, and making my way back over to the sink. Grabbing my toothbrush I promptly began washing the odor of upchuck and alcoholic beverages from my mouth. As I scrubbed my teeth, tongue and gums thoroughly, I looked in the mirror and stopped brushing to analyze myself for the first time that morning.
Guess what? I looked like shit. Correction. I looked dead. Suddenly sick of myself, I angrily spit out the toothpaste and rinsed off my mouth, and, tossing the brush back into the cup, I stormed out, back to the bedroom. I took one look at the bed and the flashes started, reminding me of my wrongdoing. I didn’t know how much I could handle to remember right now, so I tried as much as possible to avoid looking at the bed. As I moved toward the dresser to collect my clothes, I felt like a two year old holding up my hand to the left side of my face to block the bed from my view.
In my clothes drawer, I picked the most modest bra and set of underwear I could find, purposely made sure that they didn’t match, and put them on. Next, I stalked over to my closet with objective and selected the most comfortable shirt and shorts I could find, slipping them on my body.
My original intent to coming back to the bedroom had been to crawl in it and stay there for the rest of my life, but seeing as how I couldn’t even bare to look at the bed at this present moment, I somberly made my way out into the living room to lay on couch, which I hoped wouldn’t become my permanent bed.
Of course, the way this whole morning had been playing out, I shouldn’t have been surprised that no sooner had I plopped on the couch with a quiet poof and a semi-contented, semi-stressed sigh, my landline rang. Now, sighing again, this time in irritation, I sat back up and pushed up from the couch to grab the phone, who I assumed would be Tommi calling. Needless to say I was surprised the caller I.D. showed up as Derek. My boyfriend.
“Shit,” I cursed in complete and utter shock. And again I was back to asking my self the question: What the fuck do I do now?
Chapter Five
Well, I decided it was better that I didn’t ignore it, although my gut instinct told me not to answer. I couldn’t avoid him forever. I clicked the talk button on my receiver and said a solemn greeting.
“Hey, baby,” Derek purred. “You miss me?” With a sigh, I lied to my boyfriend.
“Yeah, I can’t wait until you get home.” I was dreading his arrival, but thank god I at least had three more days to think about what I was going to say.
“Good, because we got finished early and I’ll be home tomorrow night.” Or at least I thought I had. Shit. So, unfortunately, my irrational thinking kicked in.
“I slept with somebody,” I sighed.
“What are you talking about, Lib?” Derek said.
“Cherry’s bachelorette party was last night and…” I paused not sure how to word it.
“And? What?” But by the tone he was using I could tell he already knew how everything had played out, I just hoped he wouldn’t figure out who it had been. I really didn’t want to lose my best friend.
“And…I got sloshed and had se - slept with someone.” I didn’t know why I couldn’t say sex, but maybe it was too much of an understatement. No. No, that was wrong.
“So, how was it?” Derek asked, surprising me.
“What? Aren’t you jealous? Concerned? Pissed? Something?” I was completely and utterly baffled now.
“Is that what you wanted to happen by telling me that? You wanted to make me jealous?” Where was he going with this? Why wasn’t he mad at me?
“No, I was just trying to be honest because I lo - ” I couldn’t say that either.
“You love me? Are you sure?” his tone seemed genuine, concerned.
“Yes,” I replied firmly. “And I’m sorry - ” But he cut me off.
“Who was it, Libra? Who did you sleep with?” he suddenly demanded, maybe he was upset. But then again he had every right to be, didn’t he?
“Why does that even matter?”
“It just does.”
“Nobody, okay. Just some guy. Why are you being so defensive?” I abruptly growled.
“Don’t I deserve to be defensive? You just told me you cheated.”
“Yes, I cheated, but at least I was intoxicated,” I reminded him. “And lonely.”
“What are you trying to say?” he began treading lightly, afraid his next step might be the wrong one. Not me, I was on a roll.
“When you cheated, you were fully aware of what you were doing, even came back for more.”
“I cheated with you!” he screamed. “Not on you!”
“Turn around is fair play then.”
“No it’s not.”
“How do you think that girl felt?” I grilled. “Do you think she wanted to be cheated on either? And she really loved you.”
“I thought you did too,” he whispered, suddenly trying to make himself a victim. No, I wouldn’t let that happen, we were both at fault here as far as I was concerned. It wasn’t just me. And he needed to realize that.
“Why did you do it anyway?” I asked. “Why would you cheat on someone who truly loves you for someone like me?”
“Because…I don’t know. I did it for a lot of reasons. But it doesn’t matter now, because I fell in love with you,” Derek supplied.
“And broke her heart,” I reminded him once again. “And it was only a matter of time before you did the same to me, so maybe it’s just better this way.”
“You never did, did you? Not really,” Derek asked voice full of unmasked emotion. “I could tell.”
“Never did what?” I snapped. I was getting irritated at his…ugh.
“Love,” he said simply. “Not me, at least.” My mouth fell open, and I stayed silent for lack of speech. “I didn’t think so,” were Derek’s final words to me before he hung up and I was left holding the phone to my ear and listening to the dial tone that signaled the end of a very meaningful relationship, whether or not the meaning had been genuine.
I could still hear the droll of the beeping dial tone as the phone when sailing toward the ground and fell on the floor with a loud kerplunk.
And then here's the most recent chapter, Chapter Six:
Chapter Six
I stayed on the couch for the rest of the day, moping pathetically. I couldn’t help it. I was devastated. No matter what I thought of him, I never thought it would end like that.
I was harsh on him for a mistake that I had made. I brought up things that were much more comfortable staying in the past, and I began to think about that girl again. The one he cheated with me on. The one who gave him her love and expected nothing in return, but hoped for it. He used her. And now, I had used him, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
I thought I had loved Derek. I knew I cared for him. I wished I hadn’t hurt him. I wanted nothing more than to forget about the possibility of Tommi and me being together. How could I face him again? But, still, I felt like I needed him now, more than any other time.
But my resolve had faded, and so I did nothing but lay on the couch wishing I could float away into nothing. And before I drifted off to sleep for the first time since I had woken up with horrible repercussions from a bachelorette party and a night of wild drunken sex, I thought to myself that I wondered if anyone could ever truly know me.
When I awoke, my blanket had fallen to the floor and the light from the hallway of the apartment building seeped in through the bottom of the door to land, gracefully on my cheek. It was dark outside, so I assumed it was pretty late. Slowly, carefully, I sat up, noticing my head no longer ached as much as it had this morning, but I decided to take another aspirin, anyway.
Making my way from the living room to the adjoining bathroom, I tripped over the rug just in front of the bathroom door and landed quite ungracefully as I, at the last minute caught myself with my hand, bending my wrist back. I cried out in pain and let my body drop to the floor. Rolling over, I coddled my wrist to my chest in agony, and moaned and whimpered like a two year old. I did, however, take notice to the fact that this was the second time today I had felt like a toddler.
From the constant throbbing in my joint due to the fall, I made the deduction that my wrist was either sprained or broken. Shit. Attempting to sit up again without any support from my arms proved to be difficult, but eventually, I succeeded with a hiss. I turned my body and leaned it against the wall for support. I was suddenly exhausted. I’m not a crier, but that doesn’t mean I don’t cry. A few tears slipped down my face now from the affects of the day and the now excruciating physical ache. But the physical ache still didn’t hurt as much as the emotional ache did.
Conjuring up energy from somewhere, I huffed, kneeled on my knees and pushed up on them to stand up, one leg at a time. It was then that I realized my ankle was hurt too as pain shot up my leg when I tried to walk on it. So, limping and coddling my arm I carefully, slowly made my way to the medicine cabinet and grabbed the originally intended bottle of aspirin, and limped back out of the bathroom to the phone. I couldn’t open the bottle by myself, which was my first problem. I picked up the phone as I hobbled over to the couch, groaning and moaning pitifully.
I had no idea who to call. I didn’t really consider this an emergency. Sighing, I laid back down on the couch, propping my leg up and carefully resting my arm across my stomach, having no energy to get up. The phone rested on my chest, in my cleavage area. I was currently trying to open the pill bottle with my right hand and my teeth. It took about an hour before I actually got it opened and I swear once I did I downed half the contents of the container, which probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas.
I passed out.
The next day, Monday, instead of going to work, I called in sick, due to my still, useless limbs. Cherry called me, as soon as I hung up with my boss. She told me that she had just picked up my Maid of Honor dress and that she was coming by to drop it off to me, and asked if I wanted to go out to lunch, to which I promptly told her that I didn’t feel like going anywhere or doing anything. She would be devastated when I told her that I wouldn’t be able to walk down that aisle at her wedding because of my injury. It would just figure wouldn’t it? She was bringing over takeout.
The door had been left unlocked by Tommi the previous day, when I had made him get out, so I hadn’t needed to worry about opening the door for Cherry, she just let herself in. When she saw me with an icepack on my ankle and a bag of frozen vegetables, peas to be specific, laying across my wrist, both of which I had retrieved this morning when I had to use the bathroom facilities, laid back down, and hadn’t gotten up since, she rushed over demanding to know what had happened. There’s Cherry for you.
I calmly told her about my fall. But, of course she was panicky and frantic about how this had to happen the day before her wedding and how I could be such a klutz. And then, she saw the look on my face and her concern completely changed. Focusing on me again, she could see it on my face.
“Oh no,” she sighed. “He dumped you.” I brought my not completely useless hand and rubbed it down my face.
“Actually, I’m not sure who did the dumping,” I commented, raw. I sat up, with some difficulty, and she sat on the sofa in the space next to my feet as my back leaned against the arm of the couch. She now picked up the takeout bag and began pulling food out as she exclaimed, “Tell me what happened.”
“I slept with Tommi,” I said, my voice hoarse. She looked over at me, suddenly, frozen in shock with a slack jaw.
“You didn’t!” she exclaimed, but I nodded. She set the paper bag back down. “You did?! You’re serious.” She seemed really shocked. “How? Why? What happened?”
“Well, you remember how drunk I was after your party,” I started. But she interjected.
“Oh, no, Libra,” she said. “You were wasted? Oh, and Tommi…oh man.”
“Can I finish please?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Cherry said.
“Tommi was here waiting for me when I came home, and one thing led to another and, well, next thing I knew I was waking up naked with him beside me in the bed, a massive migraine and nonstop nausea,” I tried explaining in the simplest form.
“Can I just ask you something?” she commented. I nodded briefly as she started taking the food out of the bag again and handing me Indian Food. “Why was he here in the first place? You know? Why was he waiting?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I mean, come on, it’s Tommi.” I opened the container and she handed me a plastic spork from the bag. I dug in. I hadn’t eaten in almost two days, I was starving.
“Okay, it just seems suspicious to me. Was he drunk too?” Cherry inquired, genuinely just curious.
“Not as far as I could tell.” Cherry froze mid-fork-raise at that and let her hand drop back down.
“Why would he sleep with you if he knew you were drunk?” Cherry paused for affect and consideration. “And he was sober.”
“Because…” I thought about it. “Well, it’s like I’ve said before, Tommi is a sleazebag.”
“Yeah, but…it’s you,” she pressed. “Don’t get me wrong, taking advantage of a girl while she’s drunk seems like something Tommi would do, but…it’s you. I never would have expected it with you.” I thought about what she said.
“He didn’t take advantage of me, Cher,” I mumbled looking at my tray as I played with my food, no longer shoveling it into my mouth as I began to lose my appetite.
“Really?” Cherry asked, concerned, leaning her head down to meet my gaze. “Are you sure?”
We didn’t talk much the rest of the meal, and I thought about what Cherry had said to me. It had gotten too quiet so I turned on the television to the cooking channel, which I normally enjoyed watching. But today I couldn’t focus.
Cherry cleaned up our food and washed her hands, while I sat there feeling useless in my own apartment. She brought out the Maid of Honor dress she had been so proud of, bragging, claiming I would love it. I didn’t wear dresses, but I had figured I could make an exception for my friends wedding. I was surprised to find, however, that it wasn’t even really a frilly dress. It was pretty simple, my kind of style. It was burgundy colored with spaghetti straps and the length came down to about just above my knees. It buttoned up in the back, and the bottom hung loose like one of those dresses in a Special K commercial . I had to admit, if I were to wear a dress, she definitely picked one that was my speed. She still intended on me being up at the altar next to her, somehow.
After she zipped up the dress in a protector case and placed it carefully in my closet, she turned back to me and stated that we were going to get me an x-ray, to which I fought wasn’t necessary, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer, and, despite my normal stubbornness, I was in no condition to argue with her.
She drove me to the orthopedics office. Where the casted my arm and gave me a brace for my ankle. They also gave me a crutch for walking, and Cherry insisted that I still walk down the aisle, and that they would set a chair by the altar that I could sit in if I was putting too much pressure on my ankle while standing. I reluctantly agreed.
I didn’t really know the guy Cherry was marrying. All I knew about him was that his name was Chuck, and I’m pretty sure he is a friend of Derek’s, my ex as of yesterday. This sucked because that meant that he’d most likely be at the wedding. I thought about it, and realized that this could have been the reason he was coming back early. I hadn’t even thought about it until now. Abruptly, I turned to Cherry.
“Is Derek supposed to be there?” I wrenched out, chillingly. She looked a little anxious at my tone.
“Be where?” she said.
“At the wedding.”
“Oh, uh. I’m not sure to tell you the truth,” she said turning as we walked out the door of the orthopedics office together, myself walking a bit slower do to my ankle. She held the door for me.
“How can you not even know who is going to be at your own wedding?” I asked.
“Well, I mean, he was originally. He was the best man, which worked out great when you were going steady with him,” she added on a side note, and I gave her a pointed look. “Right, sorry.” I loved Cherry, she was one of my best friends, well, her and Tommi were pretty much my only friends at this point, but I’d rather have two best friends than a bunch of meaningless friendships. Anyway, I love Cherry, but sometimes that girl just does not know what the wrong things to say are, and she always ends up saying them.
I nodded at her to continue.
“Anyway, Chuck said he couldn’t be the best man because he had a last minute business trip,” she finished.
“He called to tell me he was coming back early,” I said. “That’s when I told him about Tommi.”
“Oh, well then I’m not sure. Chuck didn’t say anything to me about it.”
“Maybe he doesn’t know yet,” I suggested, which was highly plausible. I already had enough to worry about and now, this.
I went back to Cherry’s house with her for a while. She showed me all the finishing touches that had been done on everything wedding related. Kidding, she and I weren’t like that. Cherry wasn’t obsessive, and I hated talking about things like that. Plus, I’m pretty sure she was trying not to act nervous about the whole ordeal. I felt it would’ve been my duty as the best friend to comfort her and convince her that it would all be okay and that he loved her, but I really couldn’t, partly because I didn’t know him.
I felt kind of bad, because I think part of the reason I didn’t know this guy was that Tommi had been hogging all my time, and Derek. And the other reason I didn’t was because I hadn’t really thought they were a serious couple.
Cherry went to the bathroom.
Cherry, Tommi, and myself used to have pizza and beer nights every Saturday, but after college the tradition had only lasted a year or so more. I had decided, despite the fact that Tommi wasn’t here, that we needed to have one last pizza and beer night before she got married. I didn’t have to worry about going to the reception the night before the wedding or anything because we had done it last Thursday.
I called in the pizza while she was in the bathroom, and called the local liquor store and asked the owner, “Stinky” Pete, if he could send a few cases over because of my injury. We had a good rep with Pete, so he closed early without any hesitation to bring us over as much alcohol as we wanted.
When Cherry came out of the bathroom I told her my plan and she smiled.
“You calling Tommi, too, or not?” she asked. Again. She said the wrong thing. I looked at her. “Never mind,” she quickly amended, before I could respond. I brushed it off. I was determined to make this pizza and beer night a success.
We ended up getting a little tipsy and goofing around. Chuck had come home and gone to sleep at about eleven, and I think we woke him up a few times. I think he already knew he might be driving me home in the morning.
Just as I had expected I would, I stayed the night at Cherry’s house. I couldn’t really drive anywhere because of my ankle, and Cherry was already home and had been drinking so I just slept on the couch. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Chuck was the first to wake up, and when I heard him rustling around in the kitchen, I woke up. Sitting up I heard the refrigerator open and close again. I stood up and walked calmly to the bathroom, brushing my teeth, and then entered the kitchen. He was preparing to cook an omelet it looked like. When he heard my sticky footsteps on the tiled floor, he turned to look at me over his shoulder.
“Good morning,” he said, turning back to the frying pan in front of him.
“Morning,” I replied with a yawn. I trotted over to the freezer and pulled out a package of bacon and one of sausage, and set them on the counter as I began heating up Cherry’s indoor grill. I hopped up on the counter between the meat products and Chuck. I looked at him. “You nervous?” I asked.
“A little,” he said. It seemed as though he didn’t really want to talk about it.
“What kind of omelet are you making?” I asked.
“Vegetarian,” he answered.
“You’re a vegetarian?” I asked, shocked. Cherry would marry someone who didn’t eat meat?
“Well, I used to be a strict vegetarian,” he started. “But I’ll eat meat every now and again. But, for some reason I never liked it on my omelets.” He looked up at me, away from the omelet, and smiled. He was making an effort to get to know me, and I found that he was actually very easy to get along with. I wasn’t in love with the guy or anything, but I felt confident that he wouldn’t hurt Cherry.
“I couldn’t survive without meat!” I sighed, dramatically, jumping off the counter with a smile as the grill’s orange light came on, signaling it was hot enough to cook. I opened the package of bacon and began laying the slices down, listening to them sizzle. I looked up and noticed he had been staring at me. When he saw me look at him we both chuckled.
“So, I’ve heard a lot about you, but I feel as though I don’t know you that well,” he began, flipping the egg over. “I mean, I’m marrying Cherry and I don’t even know her best friend. Like I don’t know anything about that part of her life.” He kept grinning, looking at me. I looked back up at him as I opened the sausage package.
“Well, I only really need to know one thing about you,” I said, pausing before putting the links down.
“What’s that?” he asked looking back down to the pan.
“Do you love her?” No trace of a smile now. I would be able to tell whether or not he really did by how he reacted.
“Yeah, I do,” he looked up, pausing in his cooking to look at me, seriously. And when I nodded, he smiled again.
“Do you ever stop smiling?” I asked, lightheartedly and we laughed, waking Cherry up. She came trotting down the stairs and into the kitchen within ten minutes.
“What’s all the racket down here?” she asked and we both looked at her and then at each other and laughed again. Chuck seemed pretty shy to me, so I answered.
“Just bonding,” I said, grinning. She nodded, taking a seat at the kitchen table.
“So, what’s for breakfast?” she asked.
“Pig’s feet,” he said, turning to look at her.
“Yeah right,” she said.
“Vegetarian omelet, sausage, and bacon,” I answered.
“Isn’t that kind of contradictory?” she giggled.
“Yeah I guess so.” I could tell they were friends, but like I said before about me not getting the feeling that they were a serious couple. Well, I got the same impression from them now. I didn’t know the ins and outs if the situation, and I was trying to be less judging. But I still wondered if they were right for each other.
After breakfast, Chuck drove me back to my apartment, as I had presumed he would. The car ride was interesting to say the least. I learned what type of music he listened to, and it didn’t appeal to me, but, to each his own.
I examined him, and really got to look at him and take in his features for the first time since meeting him. He had a hazel kind of hair-color, and his hair was cut short, but looked like it had grown out a little since his last cut. I briefly wondered if he would be getting it cut today or if he liked it the way it was.
His eyes were a dark brown, contrasting his eyes a bit, and his nose was long. His ears seemed average sized to me and his ear lobe wasn’t attached at the bottom like mine was. His head was oval shaped and skinny.
I assessed that his favorite color was probably green from his clothing, his car, and well, he just seemed like a green type of person to me. I didn’t think he had any tattoos, at least not visible ones, but he didn’t seem at all like a tattoo type of person either.
He was shy. One of those, well not meek, per say, but one of those bordering meek guys. I imagined him being a fidgety kind of guy.
On the other hand, Cherry had bright red hair, although natural. She had olive green eyes that I had always been jealous of. Mine were deep bright blue.
Cherry was voluptuous, and not at all skimpy, although not fat, but she average weight, and where Chuck was tall, like myself, Cherry was around five foot two.
She was outgoing, a high contrast to Chuck, who also seemed to be modest.
I didn’t know what to make of the two.
I wondered what Cherry saw in him.