quotations, “ babe , go out with another guy, kiss him, agree to another date then bring babe over to fuck again? Pardon me, but that is a perfect definition of a slut!”
Evidently, Rooter never got my text about Ryan being gay, and seeing me with both guys has given him the wrong impression. However, I’m too pissed to care about that right now. He just accused me of being a whore like the girls he hooks up with. I’m no slut! I’ve had sex with one guy in my life, once. And it was not of my own volition, so Rooter can go screw himself.
“For your information, not that it’s any of your damn business, but,” I make air quotations, “ babe , the guy you think I’m fucking, is gay you asshole!”
His eyes go wide with shock and he takes a small step forward. “What?”
“That’s right. Babe is one hundred percent take it up the ass gay ! I’m not fucking anyone and I’m not a slut.”
I turn to walk away, but am brought to a standstill by Rooter’s firm grip on my arm. He spins me around and crashes his lips against mine.
I shove Rooter away and slap his face with all my might causing him to grimace and his body to tense. Both of us are panting.
“Don’t touch me!” I roar.
“I’m sorry,” he breathes with a pained expression. “I shouldn’t have—” I don’t allow him to finish.
“You’re damn right you shouldn’t have.”
But then the memory of his lips on mine, however brief a time it was, comes to mind. They were so soft, and warm, and their sweet taste still lingers. My mind races. I’m pissed off and confused. I hate the way he’s treated me and the things he accused me of. But I’ve wanted him for so long. Part of me still does. A really big part. But not this way. Not like this. I turn to walk away, and to my surprise, relief and dismay, he lets me go.
The moment I close the living room door, tears pour from my eyes. Not because I’m sad, but rather because I’m utterly overwhelmed.
“Oh my God.” Miranda rushes to my side. “What the hell just happened?”
“Rooter accused me of being a slut and we got into a fight and then he kissed me and then I hit him.” The words fly out in one rushed sentence.
Miranda takes me by the hand and leads me to the sofa. She sits next to me and rubs my arm in a comforting manner. I wipe my tears away with the back of my hand.
“He accused you of what?”
“He thought I’ve been sleeping with Ryan, and then he saw me with Hayden last night, and then saw Ryan leave just now.”
“Then why did he kiss you?” She asks, confused.
“Because I told him Ryan is gay and that I’m not fucking anyone.”
Her eyes go wide and a look of amusement forms on her face. “So, he was jealous.”
I perk up. This hadn’t occurred to me due to my state of upset. “You know, I think you’re right.”
Her eyes go wide. “Wow.”
“Yeah, wow.” My mind goes back to the kiss, my mind stuck on the idea that Rooter was jealous. There’s no other explanation.
“How does that make you feel? That he might have been jealous?”
I take a deep breath, allowing myself a moment to think before answering. I feel a lot of things, and it’s all difficult to sort through.
“Truthfully, I like it. But, after everything that’s happened, I don’t know…” I don’t finish the sentence. There’s no need because Miranda understands what I mean better than I do.
Shortly thereafter I hear Rooter’s motorcycle as he speeds away.
I sit with Miranda in her room, reading gossip magazines and smutty romance novels about highlanders and damsels in distress while she studies for her upcoming exam. Though we don’t talk much, her presence is enough to calm my nerves.
Around five thirty she takes a break from studying and we head to the kitchen to cook dinner; ramen noodles—the college girl special. Beef flavor for her, chicken for me. We sit at the dining room table and eat in silence. The great thing about Miranda is she knows when I need
Evidently, Rooter never got my text about Ryan being gay, and seeing me with both guys has given him the wrong impression. However, I’m too pissed to care about that right now. He just accused me of being a whore like the girls he hooks up with. I’m no slut! I’ve had sex with one guy in my life, once. And it was not of my own volition, so Rooter can go screw himself.
“For your information, not that it’s any of your damn business, but,” I make air quotations, “ babe , the guy you think I’m fucking, is gay you asshole!”
His eyes go wide with shock and he takes a small step forward. “What?”
“That’s right. Babe is one hundred percent take it up the ass gay ! I’m not fucking anyone and I’m not a slut.”
I turn to walk away, but am brought to a standstill by Rooter’s firm grip on my arm. He spins me around and crashes his lips against mine.
I shove Rooter away and slap his face with all my might causing him to grimace and his body to tense. Both of us are panting.
“Don’t touch me!” I roar.
“I’m sorry,” he breathes with a pained expression. “I shouldn’t have—” I don’t allow him to finish.
“You’re damn right you shouldn’t have.”
But then the memory of his lips on mine, however brief a time it was, comes to mind. They were so soft, and warm, and their sweet taste still lingers. My mind races. I’m pissed off and confused. I hate the way he’s treated me and the things he accused me of. But I’ve wanted him for so long. Part of me still does. A really big part. But not this way. Not like this. I turn to walk away, and to my surprise, relief and dismay, he lets me go.
The moment I close the living room door, tears pour from my eyes. Not because I’m sad, but rather because I’m utterly overwhelmed.
“Oh my God.” Miranda rushes to my side. “What the hell just happened?”
“Rooter accused me of being a slut and we got into a fight and then he kissed me and then I hit him.” The words fly out in one rushed sentence.
Miranda takes me by the hand and leads me to the sofa. She sits next to me and rubs my arm in a comforting manner. I wipe my tears away with the back of my hand.
“He accused you of what?”
“He thought I’ve been sleeping with Ryan, and then he saw me with Hayden last night, and then saw Ryan leave just now.”
“Then why did he kiss you?” She asks, confused.
“Because I told him Ryan is gay and that I’m not fucking anyone.”
Her eyes go wide and a look of amusement forms on her face. “So, he was jealous.”
I perk up. This hadn’t occurred to me due to my state of upset. “You know, I think you’re right.”
Her eyes go wide. “Wow.”
“Yeah, wow.” My mind goes back to the kiss, my mind stuck on the idea that Rooter was jealous. There’s no other explanation.
“How does that make you feel? That he might have been jealous?”
I take a deep breath, allowing myself a moment to think before answering. I feel a lot of things, and it’s all difficult to sort through.
“Truthfully, I like it. But, after everything that’s happened, I don’t know…” I don’t finish the sentence. There’s no need because Miranda understands what I mean better than I do.
Shortly thereafter I hear Rooter’s motorcycle as he speeds away.
I sit with Miranda in her room, reading gossip magazines and smutty romance novels about highlanders and damsels in distress while she studies for her upcoming exam. Though we don’t talk much, her presence is enough to calm my nerves.
Around five thirty she takes a break from studying and we head to the kitchen to cook dinner; ramen noodles—the college girl special. Beef flavor for her, chicken for me. We sit at the dining room table and eat in silence. The great thing about Miranda is she knows when I need
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