You’re not going to talk to her like that and talk to me the way you talk to me through the wall.
The mettle of him caught me off guard.
What if he’s not the sunny momma’s boy we all think he is?
Exhibit C – He’s a virgin.
Okay, okay, he probably is the sunny momma’s boy we all think he is, but what of it?
I know virgins get a bad rep for getting attached, but he’s clearly considered Gould’s offer, or he wouldn’t have mentioned it. It wouldn't need to be serious. He's here. I'm here. It would be the definition of a situationship. A short situationship. A simple transaction, a base interaction that serves a purpose for both of us; he gets his V card punched and I get to punch it.
If that’s not the definition of win-win, I don’t know what is.
It’s not like it would be all that great. He’s a total noob and I’ve never fucked a guy. Not a recipe for mind-blowing sex. Obviously, I’d still be pretty decent in bed. I kind of have a talent for that type of thing. He’d most likely be crap, over-eager and nervous, so once it’s done it would be done.
Over and done.
I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?
Our parents find out and both have a heart attack? They’re both fit and young, they have a lot to live for, they’d probably make it.
I get disowned and he goes back to being the beloved only child? Not all that different from the status quo right now, so hardly worth worrying about.
Also, it’s not like they’d need to know. I’ve never felt the need to inform either of my parents of who I’m sleeping with. It would be a one-time thing. We could bang it out and get it out of our system. It’s simple, really. Besides, we’re both going to college in September. If it’s super awkward afterwards we’d won’t have to see each other all that much. We’d only reallyhaveto see each other at Christmas, and over spring break, and the three months of summer, and again at Thanksgiving, and at birthdays, and our parents’ wedding anniversary.
Shit.
If it’s awkward, it’s going to be awkward as fuck. Not only that, it’s going to be awkward for the rest of our lives.
The rest. Of. Our. Lives.
Leave him alone, Jessie.
For the love of God, man, leave him alone.
I’ve talked myself round in a circle, and not for the first time. This is my decision and it’s final. I’m going to leave Luke alone. It’s a mature decision, moreover it’s the right decision. There’s no doubt about that. I feel pleased and proud of myself.
My resolve lasts for almost twelve minutes.
Luke goes to his room after showering and potters around like he always does. He opens his wardrobe and closes it again. I hear him hopping from one foot to the other. Pajamas tonight? He gets into bed, lying down heavily so the headboard knocks against the wall. He lies abnormally still for a long while, so long I start to think he’s going to be a good little momma’s boy and go straight to sleep. I can’t tell if I’m relieved or disappointed when I hear the tell-tale sounds of him grappling for pleasure. I don’t dwell on the matter for long. I’m instantly on my knees, kneeling on my mattress with my ear pressed keenly against the wall.
“Bet that feels good, huh?” I drawl, despite common sense strongly suggesting I shut the fuck up. “Bet you missed having a dick in your hand. Bet you’re horned up as hell.”
He doesn’t answer. I wasn’t expecting him to.
He starts stroking fast. I wasn’t expecting that either.
“Slow down!” I bark.
He ignores me and keeps going at his own pace.
“Aw, don’t be like that,” I say softly, placing one hand on the wall beside my face, “I got something for you. A peace offering.” It isn’t. It’s the exact opposite. “Look in the back of your drawer.”
I hear a frustrated sigh. I can’t tell if he’s frustrated with me or with himself. Probably a bit of both. Can’t say I blame him. He seems to deliberate for a while and then he yanks the drawer open. He fumbles around until he finds what I left for him.
“Do you like it?”
No answer.
