by Ava Walsh
“I was just wondering who she was,” Margie said, trying to smile again. Lance wasn’t touching her anymore and all she wanted was to throw her arms around him and hug him tightly. She knew, however, that that would be the worst mistake she could make in front of all these people.
“Anyway, yeah, we’re heading over to the gym together. Need to get a sweat going tonight before the game. Did you want to come?” Lance asked. He had a casual grin on his face and Margie considered it. Her heart was already beating fast because he had even offered. An image of herself on a treadmill popped up, her sweaty self, her red curls soaked in sweat and the panting and the exhaustion. Chloe, on the other hand, of course would look flawless during the whole thing.
“No, I need to head back. Got some chores to do,” Margie said, deciding immediately that she didn’t want Lance to see her that way.
“Cool. I’ll see you day after then. At the library? I’m looking forward to our little talk,” Lance said, patting her quickly on her arm before turning on his heel immediately and rushing back towards the house.
Margie breathed in deeply and then turned to leave. She thought she heard a loud giggle from Chloe and then Bryan laugh, but she didn’t turn to check. She didn’t care anymore. Lance was all that mattered and Lance was a gentleman, a kind and thoughtful person, the complete opposite of the general perception that people had of him.
She took her time in walking back to the dorm. She wanted to savor the past few moments of looking into his eyes, his hands on her arms and that bright smile. She wanted to think about him by herself.
Claire was in the room when Margie entered.
“So…how did it go?” Claire asked, looking up from the book she was reading.
“With Lance? Oh, he was busy so we rescheduled,” Margie said quickly, making sure that her face was hidden from Claire the whole time that she spoke.
“Are you serious? Did you wait for him or something?” Claire put down the book with a thump on the bed and sat up straight.
“Just for a bit.” Margie busied herself with emptying her bag. She had already given a few of the books to Lance the last time they met at the library, so she didn’t have that many left to revise for the test.
“What does that mean? How long did you wait? And how did he reschedule it?” Claire had gotten off her bed now and was standing behind Margie with her hands on her hips. Margie didn’t answer immediately, already regretting that she’d told Claire anything.
“He did eventually turn up at the library, about half an hour late, and said that he wanted to reschedule for the day after tomorrow.” Margie turned to look at her friend finally, crossing her arms over her chest. This was Claire’s reaction, and she didn’t even know what happened with him after the party! She didn’t even know that Margie wasn’t a virgin anymore.
Claire sighed and continued to glare at her.
“What is wrong with you, Claire? Why are you so upset with me?” She threw the words at Claire, believing she had the advantage now. Now that she had lied to Claire about what really happened.
“I just don’t trust him, that’s all,” Claire said softly, calming her voice down a little.
“You don’t know what he’s really like. He’s sweet. He’s a nice guy,” Margie carried on, with the same, offended voice. Claire was looking at her sharply.
“And you think you know him? After you met him, what, three times?” Claire asked with a huff, and Margie rolled her eyes.
“Whatever, Claire. I know him better than you do, so I’m in a better position to pass judgments on him. Anyway, why am I arguing about this with you?” Margie threw her hands up in the air, turned around and fell on the bed.
“Whatever,” Claire said too, and returned to her bed to read her book.
Margie turned to face the wall, and an immediate smile spread across her face. She could think of him in peace again.
Chapter Six
Margie was at the game. She hadn’t been to one before, but now was as good a time as any, especially if she wanted to get to know Lance better. It was difficult for her to follow the game exactly as it was being played, but by the sound of the cheering crowds from her college in the bleachers, it was easy to tell that their team was doing well. Lance was the star.
He was flying, his jersey fluttering behind him. Even from a distance, Margie could see his biceps flex and the muscles on his thighs rip as he lunged and ran and kicked. Margie couldn’t stop herself from growing more nervous by the minute. She couldn’t wait to surprise him. If he thought that she was not going to be interested in this side of him, he was mistaken.
The crowd cheered as their team flew to victory, and his teammates had picked Lance up on their shoulders. She could see guys scream loudly and girls swoon. The cheerleaders, including Chloe, were out on the field again. Margie couldn’t deny it, Chloe looked absolutely gorgeous in her jersey, her dark hair tied in a plait and shining, her glittery canvas shoes sparkling in the sun.
Margie stood up to clap despite the misgivings she had at seeing Chloe and the cheerleaders run towards the team. She started making her way down the bleachers towards the front. She’d spotted a gap in the crowd that she could possibly squeeze through and wave at him when the team passed by towards the locker rooms.
Her eyes were still on Lance, and how happy he looked. This was what he was good at, what he believed in himself for. He didn’t need anybody else’s validation to make him feel good about what he could achieve on the field. Margie was proud of him.
She noticed the way he leaned in to whisper something in Chloe’s ear but she ignored it. They were friends, and she couldn’t be jealous of his friends, no matter how sexy and how in love with him they were.
Margie managed to squeeze her way through and she stood behind the cordoned off area, trying to look over the shoulders of the people standing in front of her.
It was only after a few minutes that she realized she was standing behind Bryan and some of the other guys from the fraternity. It made her uncomfortable, she didn’t want them to turn around and find her there, but she wasn’t going to move away either. This was the only opportunity she had of showing her support for Lance. It would make him happy.
Her ears pricked when the guys in front of her started talking about Lance. They were praising him for his performance. It made Margie smile, but she lost her good humor when she heard the next bit.
“Oh, by the way, did you see that redhead girl from yesterday? She was in the bleachers.” It was Bryan’s voice. Margie could feel her neck beginning to redden. They were talking about her, they had seen her already.
“Oh yeah?” The guy next to him asked and laughed. “Is she stalking Lance or something?”
Margie’s brows furrowed. She was angry and embarrassed at the same time. She wished Lance could hear this. Should she tell him? He’d be able to set the record straight for them.
“Looks like it. Apparently, he can’t get rid of her,” Bryan continued, and Margie breathed in. How were they just arriving at these conclusions? Did they have nothing better to talk about?
“She seems like the type,” the guy commented, and they both laughed. They were still clapping and cheering amid their conversation and Margie’s heart was sinking. So this was what Lance’s friends thought of her.
“Yeah, apparently he pity fucked her the other night and she’s been following him around ever since, ” Bryan said with a laugh, and the other guy laughed even harder.
Margie’s world came crashing down around her. She didn’t want to hear any more. How did they even know Lance had sex with her? Had Lance told them? Had he told them it was pity sex? Margie started slowly backing away until her back hit the chest of the person standing behind her, who roughly pushed her aside. She could still hear them, though, and she wanted to run away.
“Oh, shit! Damn. Why did he do it, anyway?” The other guy’s voice came through. Margie turned around. She didn’t want to know Bryan’s answer. She didn’t want to hea
r what Lance had been telling his friends about her.
“She’s tutoring him for free. She was probably expecting it,” Bryan said loudly, leaning in towards the guy as he spoke. Margie turned to look at him and for a second their eyes met. Bryan’s surprised look turned to amusement, a grin forming on his face.
Margie was horrified. He had seen her, seen her eavesdropping on their conversation. She felt claustrophobic in the crowd, she was being pushed around by people from all directions.
“She tried to come on to me too,” Bryan said, even more loudly this time, looking directly at her as he spoke. The other guy erupted into a volley of laughter, just as Margie managed to break from the crowd. She was running towards the exit, trying to squeeze past people who were pushing against her. She was breathing hard, she hardly had any breath left in her system. She needed to get out.
When she eventually did, Margie leaned against a wall. She wasn’t sure where she was, or which exit she’d taken. There were still people streaming past her, cheering and screaming loudly in excitement, but she only slid down the wall and crouched on the ground.
With her hands, she shielded her eyes from the light.
“What’s wrong with you? Are you okay?” Margie heard a girl’s voice. She peeped through her splayed fingers and saw Chloe’s heavily made-up face close to hers. Chloe was crouching on the ground, reaching to touch her hair.
“Get away from me!” Margie shrieked, and stood up. Chloe nearly fell back in surprise and then stood up herself.
“I was just checking to see if you’re alright.” Chloe’s voice had turned from worried to venomous.
“I don’t need your help,” Margie said, worried that she’d break into tears very soon.
“Whatever,” Chloe said, rolling her eyes and turning around to rejoin the crowd. To her horror, Margie saw Lance approaching with some of his teammates, accepting pats on his back and shaking hands with people who passed by.
Margie froze in terror. She didn’t want to see him or his smiling, happy face after what he had said about her, what he had done to her.
She was about to turn away when he called out to her.
“Margie!” His voice was smooth like butter, loud and confident and Margie froze to the spot again. Her muscles physically did not move. Her breath caught in her throat. She was aware of the wild-eyed look in her eyes as he hurried towards her, still smiling.
“You came to my game! I didn’t think it was your kinda scene.” Lance came over with his arms outstretched. Was he expecting a hug?
Margie didn’t respond or smile when he came over and hugged her. His arms around her, which would have put her in heaven only fifteen minutes ago, repulsed her. She felt like she hated him.
“Margie?” He pulled away from her and looked into her face. “Aren’t you going to congratulate me? Or don’t you know what just happened there? We won,” Lance said, and laughed. He thought he was funny.
She didn’t have the energy to say anything, even though her hands itched to slap him. She took a few steps away from him instead, and somebody’s elbow jabbed into her ribcage and she doubled over.
“Hey! Watch it, man!” Lance screamed at the guy and placed his hands on her shoulders while she was bent over.
“You okay, Margie?” he asked, still yelling a little to be heard over the noise of the crowd.
“I’m fine. Let me go,” Margie finally managed to say. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp.
“What the hell? What’s wrong?” Lance asked. His smile had disappeared and his brow was furrowed now.
She straightened herself and debated what to say. Did he even deserve an explanation? Not after what he had said about her. She was a charity case to him. That’s all she was. Claire was right.
“I need to go,” she said instead and turned on her heels. Her hand was still rubbing the spot where the guy had jabbed her in her ribcage.
“Wait, Margie. Where are you going? I thought we were going to celebrate,” Lance yelled after her. Margie hurried on, squeezing through the crowd again.
She couldn’t bear to look at him or hear his voice. He was a fraud, he had used her and he was never going to change.
She was finally outside the stadium and she could breathe again. It was then that she realized that she had tears streaming down her face. How long had she been crying? She ran to her dorm.
“What’s wrong?” Claire had a towel wrapped around her head. She had just taken a shower. Margie was sitting on her bed, stock-still, staring out of the window with tears streaming down her face.
“I had sex with Lance,” she said robotically. From the corner of her eye, she could see Claire’s hand fly to her mouth soundlessly.
“Now? I thought there was a game on?” Claire came over to her, to sit by her side on the bed. Margie didn’t want to turn to her.
“No, that night at the party,” she said, in a dispassionate voice. She didn’t want to cry anymore, but the tears were impossible to stop. She had only herself to blame.
“Did he hurt you? Why are you crying?” Claire placed a hand on her shoulder as Margie shook her head.
“No. He was lovely. It was good. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better to lose my virginity to,” Margie said, finally wiping the tears from her cheeks with the backs of her hands.
“Well, yeah. You lost your virginity to Lance Healy. That is awesome.” Claire lifted her hand in the air, waiting for Margie to reciprocate the high-five. But Margie didn’t make a move.
“Sorry. I thought maybe you’d see the lighter side of things. Why are you upset then, Margie?” Claire had inched closer to her, and Margie could predict a cuddle coming on. Maybe she needed it. There was no use in resisting affection and friendship from someone who was actually willing to give it.
“Because I found out today that Lance Healy had sex with me because he felt sorry for me. He thought he had to repay me for the free tutoring,” Margie informed her friend. She breathed in deeply and sighed. There was no reason to beat around the bush or lie to Claire anymore.
It was over. There was no returning to the happy days, not after what she knew now.
“How do you know that?” Claire asked. She was trying her best to not sound aghast or disgusted.
“He’s been telling his friends that. I overheard them today at the game. They couldn’t have known about us having sex unless Lance told them.” Margie finally fell on Claire, wrapping her arms around her friend’s neck. She did need a hug, she did need some comforting. She didn’t want to think about Lance anymore. He wasn’t the guy who she thought he was. He was everything Claire had warned her against. He was a college superstar, the guy of every girl’s fantasy. But he could never be anything more than that to her. She just had to accept it.
Chapter Seven
Margie stood in front of the library the next day. She wasn’t sure what she was doing there. Lance had said he would meet her there, but that was before all this happened. Before she had her heart ripped out of her chest and shredded to pieces. She didn’t even know if Lance would turn up. He might have either forgotten or assumed that she wouldn’t come. As always, she hadn’t seen him in class that day. She couldn’t remember the last time she had actually seen him in class.
She pushed open the doors to the library and stepped in. Mrs. Brown raised her eyebrows and looked over to where Lance was sitting. Margie followed her gaze and saw him at the same table as before. The books he had borrowed from her were neatly stacked in front of him and he was making notes in a notebook, his brows furrowed in concentration.
She felt her heart soften, but she caught herself before it went too far. This was a guy who had humiliated her and treated her like someone who he had to pity.
She breathed in deeply, licked her lips and walked towards him. Lance looked up. His green eyes looked serious and slightly worried. His mouth was set in a straight line. He looked like he’d been waiting a long time.
“I didn’t know if you’d turn up,” he said
in a near whisper, aware of the quiet atmosphere of the library.
Margie felt her nostrils flare as she came closer to the table and hovered over him. She hadn’t bothered with the lipstick today. She’d resorted to flared old baggy jeans, a flannel shirt and a cotton t-shirt underneath. Her red curls were untidily tied into a plait. She looked at him for a few seconds and then, without offering an explanation, started to collect the books he’d brought into her arms.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice rising a little.
With one arm Margie swung her backpack to the floor. She unzipped it and poured all the books into the bag at once, then straightened up again.
“Margie? What the actual fuck?” Lance said loudly this time, and she looked up sharply at him.
“Will you at least tell me what’s going on? You left me hanging at the game yesterday and now this. I don’t even know what’s happening!” he hissed through gritted teeth, leaning closer to the table and looking up at her. He looked like a stubborn child who wanted a toy he couldn’t get.
“I’m quitting. I quit being your tutor. Find another one,” she said, swinging the backpack onto her back again.
“What? Why?” Lance stood up from his chair now. He towered over her again and she had to crane her neck to look up at him.
“Do you really want to know?” she asked him, keeping her voice low.
“Yes! What on Earth did I do in the last few days to deserve this from you?” Lance inched closer to her. Their faces were barely apart. She could breathe his scent in and it made her knees buckle again. She wanted him.
Margie shook her head and licked her lips.
“You used me. Then you told your friends about it.” Margie said slowly, trying to come across as calm and composed.
“Used you? For what? As my tutor? You offered to help me. I’m sorry you feel that way.” Lance crossed his arms over his chest and she noticed how his muscles flexed. He looked gorgeous, no matter how much she hated him right now.
