If I was being honest with myself, though, I didn’t know how I would have reacted if she actually told me that she had a boyfriend. So I pushedthat insidious idea back down and refocused on the girls, who were staring intently at me, waiting for me to spill.
“No, that wasn’t the reason.” My friends knew that Jared and I had never done the deed, and they believed I was still a virgin. They could not possibly have imagined that, in a move that was completely unlike me, I had lost my virginity to Mia’s son.
But who had the strength to resist him?
“Then what was the reason?” Janel pressed and set off a terrible internal struggle for me between the idea of making something up or explaining what had really happened. They exchanged questioning looks while they waited for me to answer.
“Is there someone else?” Bailey guessed, and my eyes went wide.
Was there an obvious guilty look on my face or something?
I stared down at my jeans and traced invisible circles there with my index finger to hide my unease. My friends had never judged me before, but, up until then, I had always been the sensible one. And now…
“Yes,” I admitted straightforwardly, and they both perked up, ready to bombard me with questions.
Oh God, the look of shock on their faces was so embarrassing.
“What the what?” Janel cried, startling me.
“And this is how you tell us? Who’s the lucky guy?” Bailey got to her knees and clapped her hands, ready to hear my nonexistent love story.
I didn’t even know where to start. I checked again to make sure that my mother was occupied with her phone call, and, with a deep sigh, I decided to come clean.
“So I might have lost my head over a guy. But the whole thing is insane,” I admitted, uncomfortable and embarrassed. I began to tell the whole story then, trying to explain the situation to my friends.
“It doesn’t sound so crazy to me. We all fall for someone at some point.” Bailey twined a lock of red hair around her index finger and watched me with a dreamy expression on her face. “And it’s not something you can predict or control,” she added with certainty.
“I have to agree. Love often makes you do stupid, irrational things. And the fact that he’s an asshole but you’re gone for him anyway? That’s happenedto all of us at least once in our lives,” Janel said. She could say that, though, because I had left out some of the most important details: Neil’s confusing behavior, his outbursts, the blonds he selected for his almost compulsive sexual encounters, those times when he would simply vanish before turning up with cuts and bruises, my suspicion that he had borderline personality disorder, the room full of boxes that I had only been able to enter once, and the price I’d paid even for that brief visit. Basically, I had described him to my friends as an everyday guy with incredibly good looks and a fuckboy attitude, a sexual expert, and a skillful seducer. I never brought up the entire unexplored inner world that he had barred me from entering.
“Take me, for example. I was head over heels for Tyler and then…” Bailey waved a hand in the air, referring to her most recent fling that had turned into a total flop.
“And the worst part is, she’s still stalking his Instagram every day.” Janel jerked a thumb at her, rolling her eyes.
“Girls, social media is the most powerful tool we have for keeping tabs on men. Where they go, what they do, who they are doing it with…” Bailey fished her phone out of her jeans’ pocket and tapped out something before turning it to show us her Instagram profile.
“What are you doing?” Janel asked, annoyed.
“What everybody does—stalking.” Bailey winked back at her.
“No, not everyone does that. I’ve never checked up on Jared or any other guys,” I replied thoughtfully.
I didn’t consider myself a jealous sort of person. Jared always had his freedom, and I had mine, especially on social media.
“Take a look at that body,” Bailey said, showing us the relevant Tyler’s Instagram. His profile was nothing but a succession of shirtless pics: in a swimsuit, at the gym, with friends at the club, with beautiful women, even in the mirror. And in all of them he wore the same narcissistic smirk. It made him look like an immature boy showing off his make-believe virility.
Nope, absolute reject.
“Just your average self-absorbed clown,” Janel said, and I agreed wholeheartedly. “Let’s see what your lover boy is posting instead. What’s his full name?” she continued, making me grimace.
A warm flush made me blush terribly. I realized I had no idea what kind of photos he might have on his profile. If there were a ton of shirtless ones or any that featured his firm ass, I probably wouldn’t have been able to handle the kind of filthy commentary my friends typically reserved for the hottest guys on our campus.
I shook my head. What was I doing? Was I getting jealous over the idea that my best friends might see some pictures of Mr. Disaster all while other girls were very likely rubbing up on him in a bed somewhere, enjoying him in a much more indecent fashion?
I hesitated for a moment, but Janel was insistent, so I told her, “His name is Neil Miller.” I sighed in defeat.
“Hmm… Let’s see…” she murmured thoughtfully.
I’d never used social media to find out about someone, and, in that moment, I felt like a teenager with a powerful crush desperately trying to figure out what the object of her affections got up to in her absence.
