And oh my God, I lose my shit.
I completely lose it.
I shut my notebook with a loud snap, so loud that even I flinch. “Thanks for the offer. But I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline. I don’t need your help.” I even stand up under his fiery eyes. “I don’t need you toteachme anything. I can learn everything by myself. In fact, I’m going to get started tonight. Learning things, I mean. The basic trigonometry skills. And by the time I’m done, I’m going to be so good at it that you’ll cry and curse at your fate that you ever offered to teach me anything.”
Ignoring him and the tightly coiled and dark form of my sun, I turn to my girls who’re all looking at me with a mixture of amusement and awe. “I’m leaving. And you guys need to follow me so I can make a dramatic exit.”
Which I do.
I make a dramatic exit and my girls, like the sisters I never had, follow me.
Hours later at midnight, they follow me to the bar too where I plan on getting educated, meaning I plan on finding a random guy and fucking him and getting rid of my stupid virginity.
I know it’s an overly emotional reaction and I need to stop and think, which has all been said by my friends, but I’m too angry.
I’m too upset and I’m too hurt.
It hurts, okay?
It hurts.
Ithurtsthat he’ll fuck anyone, any random girl that he finds at a bar, but me. It hurts that after all these years he finally sees me but still, I won’t hold his attention. He still doesn’t find me attractive enough to fuck me.
I’m not asking him to love me, am I?
I’m only asking him to use me, use my body, and he won’t even do that. And I’m too hurt and too much in love with him so I’ve lost my mind over it.
That’s why I walk to the dance floor to find someone. Someone who’ll take my virginity and make me perfect for the guy I love.
I don’t know why I want to cry though. I don’t know why I feel like throwing up.
The song that’s playing is my favorite of all – “Born to Die” by Lana Del Rey – and my body is already writhing to it. I’m already twisting my hips, moving them in the shape of a figure eight, the way I did when I was chasing my orgasm on his thigh.
I throw my hands up and dance to the slow rhythm of the song, to the lyrics. I dance when my eyes cry pretty tears that flow down my cheeks. I dance when I want my legs to give up and make me fall.
At some point, a guy comes to dance next to me and my tears flow harder. He can’t see them though. It’s dark and he’s drunk.
He’s perfect.
He won’t even know that I’m a virgin, completely unfit for the love of my life.
I’m about to ask him to take me somewhere equally dark, where he won’t be able to see my tears, and fuck me, when I feel someone at my back.
Someone tall and strong and familiar.
Someone whose chest is moving, punching my back in a haphazard rhythm. I can even hear his breaths in my ears, noisy and loud, agitated.
He’s so warm that he flows like liquid heat in my veins.
My Arrow.
I close my eyes in relief and Lana’s voice explodes around me.
He grabs my waist, his fingers digging into my flesh.
A wave of heat grips me and I sigh.
I’ve been feeling cold and shivery, but he makes it all go away when he pulls me into his body. His hard,hardbody and oh my God, I feel it.
