I don’t know what he could possibly be confused about.He won.
If I were him, I’d be rubbing it in his face. But he was silent. It was unsettling, to be honest.
I got up and left, and he didn’t try to stop me. I showered, scrubbing hard at my skin as I tried to forget everything that had happened. Taylor’s naked body. His cock against mine. That kiss.
That night, it was impossible to sleep. Hours passed by. Soon it was midnight. One o’clock. Two o’clock. Three o’clock.
The strangest thing was, I didn’t feel devastated. Not like the way I had felt when I found out Taylor had been made soccer captain, or when he’d been elected student council president, or when he was awarded valedictorian. All those times, it was like my body had ripped apart to reveal a bottomless void inside myself, a small voice in my mind whisperingyou’re not good enough.
No, that night I just felt…numb.
Shellshocked.
Eventually I did fall asleep, and the last thing I thought of was not the void, or the nasty voices that lived in my head, but the memory of Taylor’s soft lips against mine.
The next morning, I slept in until midday. I woke up groggy and panicked, afraid I’d missed class, until I remembered it was Saturday.
Before I left my bedroom, I pressed an ear against the door, listening for Taylor. I wasn’t trying to hide from him, exactly, I just wanted to be prepared in case I ran into him.
But I heard no movement, and when I stepped into the living room, there was no sign of him either. No sounds came from his bedroom door. He must’ve gone out already.
I didn’t see him all day, and I should’ve been relieved, but instead I felt uneasy. I lay in bed that night, listening for him to return: for the click of his key in the lock, for the dorm door to swing open, for his footsteps.
Nothing.
On Sunday, I didn’t run into him either. I kept busy: I did laundry, bought groceries, caught up with a few friends I’d met at parties, and spent the evening preparing for the upcoming week of classes. As I was sitting at my desk in my bedroom, writing notes with my headphones in, I heard a rush of water over the classical music I was listening to.
I paused Mozart’sPiano Concerto No.23(I’d started listening to classical music in high school because I hoped it would give me an advantage over Taylor. Obviously, it didn’t work, but the habit remained).
Yep, there was no doubt about it. The shower was running. Taylor was home.
What should I do? I could hide in my room. Turn off the lights, pretend to go to sleep.
But it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet, and I wasn’t a coward. I wouldn’t allow myself to hide from him.
In fact, the more I thought about it, the more annoyed I became. What was Taylor playing at, avoiding me for the past two days? Was he purposely trying to drive me insane with the dread, the anticipation?
The shower stopped running, and I remained at my desk, my hands curling into fists.
I hated sitting around. If I had to deal with something bad, I’d rather get it over with immediately.
A secret fear of mine — one that I’d never reveal to Taylor, because he’d probably use it against me — was needles and blood tests. Even the thought of them made me queasy. The last time I’d gotten a vaccination though, one sleeve rolled up as I sat in the nurse’s office, I realised the worst part wasn’t the needle prick pain itself.
It was the waiting.
So, when I heard Taylor’s footsteps recede as he moved from the bathroom to his bedroom, I stood up, gave myself a pep talk, and marched over to his room.
There, I knocked on the door. “Taylor,” I yelled.
There was some noises of movement from inside, and then he swung the door open wearing an irritated expression.
I blinked a few times. Right, he’d just finished his shower. That’s why a fluffy white towel was slung low around his waist, revealing a faint trail of hair on his lowerbelly that led downwards. A drop of water fell from his chin, landed on his chest, and trickled south, over perfect skin and firm muscle…
I flushed.
Fuck, what was wrong with me? I’d literally touched his cock the night before, so why did the sight of some bare skin and water droplets make me feel like I was on fire?
“What do you want?” Taylor asked.
