“Scarlett,” he chuckles. “Every woman needs to be taken care of. Don’t you realize how lucky you are to already have a man who wants to protect you and make sure you’re safe?”
Oh my God. Am I the only one who can hear this utter craziness right now? I knew he was way more into me than I’ve been into him over the past year, but he’s taking things too far right now. College was supposed to be our forced breakup, and that obviously didn’t work out as I hoped. Originally, I figured if I just waited out senior year, I wouldn’t have to hurt him. Then he got into this school, and procrastination took over. Handling a situation “tomorrow” was my typical way of handling things, but not anymore. I clearly let things go past the point of a sane return. In fact, not only do I not want to spend every second of my life with Teak, I just want to be alone, maybe even forever. Who knows? I might want to be a cat lady. Those cute little pets do not have testosterone-laced attitudes, or say things like: ‘Every woman needs to be taken care of.’ Just, no.
When a boyfriend begins to act and sound like my father, and I realize … oh shit? Check.
“Um, I can’t do this,” I tell him.
“You can’t do what, baby-girl?” He asks, placing a kiss on my neck, and I feel like I’m about to lose it. “Want to go test out our new bed?”
I shove him off of me. “Space. I need space.” Our bed? What?
“Are you okay?”
“No, Teak. I’m not okay. I mean, yes, I am okay, so I don’t need to be taken care of.” I place my hand on his shoulder that’s well over a foot above my head. “I’m a big girl. I got this.”
He’s looking at me like I’m adorable.What the hell is wrong with him?Does he understand what I’m saying? Maybe he’s too tall, and the words can’t make it up to his ears so they are just entering his dick. That would make all the sense in the world.
“I love you, though. Why are you acting like this?” he asks.
A boyfriend who speaks straight from the heart of his dick? Check.
“I’m not acting like anything. This is the beginning ofmylife, Teak. My life.”
“Okay? Do you want help carrying your bags or something?”
I groan because he is dense. Stupid can be cute for a little while, but right now, stupid is putting things way too nicely. It’s not cute anymore. It’s just really, really annoying. “Look, my mother stayed home for the last eighteen years, watching me. Just watching me. She cleaned, cooked, did the errands, and got an allowance from my dad every week while she probably worked harder to keep the house in one piece and me alive than my father has ever worked. She was a ‘kept woman,’ as my dad would tell her, and she’s miserable. Like, she daydreams about soap operas coming to life kind of miserable. Do you know how sad that is, Teak?” Of course, she’ll never admit it because she doesn’t want to seem ungrateful, but that is not who I am or who I want to be.
“I’m confused. So, you don’t want to be a wife and a mother?” he questions.
“No, Teak, I do, but I can have it all, and I’ll make sure I get it all. Me. I will do that myself. I don’t want to be someone’s possession. I don’t want to be controlled or taken care of when I can do things on my own.”
“You know, some men take care of a woman because it makes them feel good. It makes them happy,” he says, clearly confused. I know he cares about me, but he has a self-absorbed, obsessively controlling, jealous streak, and I’ve had just about enough of it.
“I’m glad for those men, and if you’re one of them, I’m sure there is a woman out there who would just love to be taken care of like that, but I’m not her.”
“So, what, you want to be a dude or something?” His eyes, nose, and mouth contort with unfathomable confusion.
A boyfriend who can’t take the comment: “It’s not me, it’s you,” the right way, then questions my choice of sexuality? Check.
“No, Teak, I want to be a woman who isn’t under someone’s control. I’m at college where I should be allowed to “find myself” and work toward a career so that, if and when, I get married and have kids, I’m equally able to contribute. That’s what I want. I don’t see what’s so weird or confusing about wanting this normal kind of life?”
“Okay, well, I’m obviously not following whatever is going through your head right now, so I guess I’ll just let you be until you’re feeling more like yourself.”
“That sounds good,” I tell him.No, no it doesn’t sound good.I don’t want to see him again. I don’t want to try to avoid looking at that mole under his eyebrow anymore and wonder why I can still see it even though he has black eyebrows. Plus, that scar on his forehead looks like a heart, and that creeps me out too. I know my thoughts are mean, and he can’t control the features of his face, but I don’t want to look at him. I’m done. Every single girl in our high school wanted him, and yet, he wanted me. I thought I was lucky for like a month, but now, no. I don’t want to be wanted by him anymore.
He kisses me and holds me tightly against his body, making an embarrassingly public display of affection. I try to push away, but he doesn’t release me until I use force. I feel like I’m being suffocated. “Teak, relax. I’m just going to my dorm.” I point behind me to the tall building that’s less than a hundred feet from his dorm.
“I’ll miss you,” he says.
That’s it. It happens.
Something snaps in my head. Like, there’s literally a snapping sound. I thought that was a figure of speech, but there is definite snapage.
I scream. I scream extremely loud—loud enough that campus security is running toward us.
“What are you doing? Are you okay?” Teak asks. “Scarlett?” I feel his hands pawing at me, but I don’t want him to touch me. I don’t want anyone to touch me.
“Stop, stop, stop, stop!” I shout.
