Page 7 of Ruined

Luca disappears upstairs, and Nico disappears into his room. I’m left alone on the couch, gripping my phone so hard I fear I’ll break it. I kind of want them to stay and guide me through this, but that would be ridiculous, wouldn’t it? I need to manage this alone.

But what if he doesn’t reply? Or what if he does reply? What if⁠—

My phone pings.

North43:

Hello.

Oh shit. My cheeks heat up at the thrill, but I feel so out of my depth, I don’t know what to say. Finally, I tap my fingers over the screen, typing out a generic message.

Me:

what r u up to?

North43:

How old are you, really?

I panic and write “23,” hoping he won’t ask for a face pic since that might give it away. I don’t want to come off as a liar just because the twins convinced me to tweak my age.

North43:

Okay. So what do you like?

The replies come slowly, as if the guy’s doing something in between. Not a surprise. It’s a Saturday night—he’s probably out. Maybe messaging other guys while I’m stalling and panicking about what to do.

Biting my lip, I type out the only reply I can think of. When I imagine sex, it’s always me on the receiving end, cheek on the mattress and being slowly taken by a man who knows what he’s doing.

Me:

I want to bottom.

His reply takes longer than any before it. I tap my foot impatiently, sweat breaking out on my temple. Finally, the message comes through.

North43:

I like to take things slow, okay? There’s no rush. You’ll come to my place for a drink, and we’ll go from there. Communication is key.

His reply makes my cheeks burn. I was too forward with my last message. I don’t know how to do this at all, but it seems like North43 does. He’s done this before—that’s obvious. I feel young and inexperienced and stupid, but I’ve gotten this far, and I can’t stop now.

I take a deep breath and type out my reply.

Me:

Okay.

His reply takes longer than ever this time, and I’m sweating through my clothes by the time North43’s message finally pops up on my screen.

It’s an address.

Holy shit. I look it up frantically, and turns out it’s only a few blocks away. When I look out the window, it’s pouring rain, but it can’t be helped. I’m going to take a shower, get ready, and get my shit together.

The first step was moving in with the twins. Sleeping with a stranger is the second step in becoming who I’m supposed to be: a confident and unbothered Oliver who doesn’t long for things that can’t come true. And yet, a part of me wishes things were different. That my first time being intimate with someone would be special, with someone I actually have feelings for. Not an anonymous man from a hookup app, but someone else…

Someone with gentle eyes and rough hands—someone who’d take me with equal parts lust and restraint, and smell not like a stranger but like home.

3. VIREX