“You don’t have to worry. It was just sex. That’s all it was.”
He finally turned to look at me, and he took his time studying me, trying to make sure I was being honest. His jaw twitched, and for a second, I saw relief flicker in his eyes. He gave a short nod, as if I had just confirmed a business transaction.
“Good,” he said, his voice flat and lacking any of the warmth or lust from moments before. “That’s what it was.”
Then he turned, and without another word, he walked out of the room.
I started crying the second I locked myself in my room. I was hit with emotions I didn’t let show in front of him. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to seem weak or give him any reason to think I was getting attached. He didn’t want that. He hadn’t promised me anything, and he made it clear he never would. I knew it. I accepted it. And still, admitting it to myself hurt more than anything I’d felt in years.
I wiped my eyes and tried to steady my breathing. My body still felt raw from him, and I couldn’t sit there feeling sorry for myself all night. I needed to wash it off. I stepped into the shower, and I stayed under the water long enough to empty my head or at least dull the edges.
An hour later, I was curled up on my bed, with the covers pulled up to my chin, staring at my phone. I was on FaceTime with Holland, and I had just finished telling her everything. Every detail, from the observatory to the filming room to the brutal silence after. I needed someone to talk to, and Holland was the only one I had. I needed her to tell me I wasn’t crazy, and that I wasn’t stupid for letting it happen.
Her face on the screen was a storm cloud. She didn’t look disappointed in me. There was no judgment in her eyes for me being naïve enough to lose my virginity to Callan. No, all her anger was aimed at him, and it was a fiery, protective rage that I could feel even through the screen.
“It’s almost as if every guy goes to the same special academy where they get a PhD in being a complete and utter asshole,” she seethed. “Like, seriously, Lana. He takes you out to dinner, he takes you to your favorite place in the entire city, he has this whole deep, meaningful conversation with you, makes you feel seen, and then he takes your virginity and just…leaves you on that bed? That’s not just a dick move, that’s a psychological crime. He’s a monster.”
I picked at the corner of my phone case, absently chewing my bottom lip as I listened to her righteous anger on my behalf. It was easier to focus on her than the hollow feeling in my own chest.
“And another thing,” she continued, her voice rising. “He’s a grown-ass man. Which, once again, proves my theory that they never, ever grow up. They just get older and find more sophisticated ways to be immature, selfish pricks. Lana, girl, I need you to know that you did nothing wrong. Do you understand me? Nothing.”
She stared directly into the camera, her expression fierce. “If anything, you were the one in control of everything. You made the rules clear at the end. It was a total bad-ass move telling him that sex is all it was. He might not have shown it, you know, with his whole “I’m-a-block-of-ice” routine, but I guarantee that hit him right in the ego. Right in the nuts. Men cannot stand hearing that you used them too, that it didn’t mean anything more to you than it did to them.”
I looked at her face on my phone’s screen and sighed. “It doesn’t feel like I used him, Holls.”
“But you did,” she said immediately, her tone softening just a fraction. “And that’s a good thing, considering the way he used you. You took back the power in that last sentence, Lana. You told him he wasn’t special enough to break you. That’s a win.” She paused, her eyes softening with concern. “How are you feeling, though? Really?”
I thought about it for a moment. “Sore,” I admitted quietly. “And stupid. And a little bit empty.”
“You’re not stupid,” she said firmly. “You’re human. You took a chance on something new. And I know you’re going to be okay. Do you still need me to come over?”
I managed a small, genuine smile. “No, I’ll be okay. But thanks.”
“Anytime,” she said, her protective glare returning. “I’ll take you out for lunch on Saturday, and I’ll show you exactly how you deserve to be treated.”
In any situation I felt small or unloved, Holland always stepped in and showed me that friendship truly was the only thing I could count on.
25
Lana
I didn’t see him for the next few days, and honestly, it was a relief. The distance let me focus on my essay instead of replaying that night in my head. I set a hard deadline to finish by today, and I did. I only needed three thousand words, which wasn’t much. I stayed in the library until it closed every day, and I only went back to the house to sleep, slipping in late and leaving early, successfully avoiding any and all interactions.
It was done, and I read through the final sentence, my eyes scanning the carefully constructed argument one last time. I was proud of it. It was a piece of work I didn’t think would work out for me, but it did. I ran a final spell check, corrected a few minor punctuation errors, and then hit ‘print.’ Professor Hayes always expected us to print our essays, which gave me an excuse to print them twice and keep one copy on my desk. While I waited, I decided to print a third copy. I didn’t owe him anything, and I wasn’t even sure he’d want to read it, but I wanted to offer Callan a copy since he had let me write about his set.
Once everything was printed, I stacked the freshly printed pages and clipped them together. One copy stayed on my desk, another got put in a folder to take to Professor Hayes, and thelast one lingered in my hands. I thought about it again, going through all the possible outcomes of giving it to him. He could act as if he cared, read it, and tell me it was good. He could deny it, not wanting to read it. Or he could genuinely want to read it and show interest in it. That’d be the least he could do to show a bit of respect.
With my stomach growling because I had only eaten a granola bar since this morning, I got up from my desk and told myself that if he was downstairs, I would hand the copy to him. If not, I’d take it back upstairs and leave it by his door.
When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I glanced over to the filming room to see if I could spot anyone. I had heard voices earlier, but it looked like they had left. When I turned toward the kitchen, I saw Callan standing by the counter. His back was to me, and I forced myself to keep walking.
He turned at the sound of my footsteps, and I froze for a second. My heart skipped a beat in the most annoying way possible, and I wanted to roll my eyes at the feelings I tried so hard to ignore. His eyes met mine, but he didn’t say anything. He just watched me with that tight expression, not letting me read what he was thinking.
I tightened my grip on the essay and forced my feet to move, then walked to the fridge, pulled it open, and stared blankly at its contents. The lack of food reminded me why I hadn’t eaten much all day. I had to go gro—
“We can go grocery shopping again if you want. It’s pretty empty,” he said, interrupting my thoughts.
I closed the fridge again and turned to face him with a tight smile. “Sure.”
