by Carlos Dash
Emily makes a sound that’s a cross between a scoff and a chuckle.
“Okay, you got me. When I said anything, I didn’t actually mean that. Let’s pick something decent, like the weather.”
“The weather?” I say a little loudly. “Couldn’t you have picked something more interesting? The weather is the weather. It’s cold here. It’s warm somewhere else. It’s raining in Seattle, probably. So on and so forth.”
“Okay, professor. Pardon the mistake.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. That was the perfect retort.
“How bout we talk about you. Your life and all that. Your parents. Your upbringing.”
I should say no, and I should say it with authority. My past is none of her business. You don’t discuss such things with someone you’re just having a one-night-stand with.
But I don’t tell her off. I can’t bring myself to do it. The girl just has this disarming quality about her. I’m unable to refuse.
I begin to tell Emily things I’ve never mentioned to another living soul. The words pour out of my mouth as if independent from the rest of me.
“There’s not really much to say. My father left when I was six, and my mother raised me for a few years afterwards.”
“Did you ever see your father again?”
“No. I’m sure I could find him if I looked hard enough, but I’ve never bothered to do so.”
I can feel Emily’s body heat next to me. “Sorry,” she says again.
“Don’t be sorry. I turned out just fine without him.”
“Still, that sounds like it sucks, having to grow up without a father. But at least your mother was around.”
I grind my teeth against each other. “Yeah, she was with me into my teens.”
“Just until then? What happened after that? Did she pass away?”
I can see my mother’s face so clearly in my mind’s eye. She’s smiling at me, but it’s a closed sort of smile. The kind of smile she used to force on her face when she looked at me. A smile that said everything would be alright, despite the fact that reality wasn’t giving off that impression.
“She had some problems with substance abuse. It started with just alcohol, but then things got a lot worse. She got hooked on drugs and started losing it. They had to take me away from her a few times, and she always said she would clean up her act, but she never quite managed to go all the way.”
I place my arms underneath my neck to raise my head a little. “I knew it would happen one day. It was only a matter of time. She couldn’t fully quit the stuff, and no one was surprised when it eventually got the better of her.”
Chapter 19
I take a deep breath after I finish talking, and right after that, with apprehension dripping all over her voice, Emily asks me how old I was when my mother died. She sounds as if she’s afraid I’ll lose my temper.
“Fifteen,” I say, keeping my tone steady.
Emily gasps and the springs of my mattress make a light sound as she abruptly changes her position on the bed.
“What did you do after that? You must have had a grandmother or some other relative who was willing to take you in.”
“I did have some relatives, but none of them wanted anything to do with me. Even social services can’t force someone to become your legal guardian. So I was sent to the place where kids go when they don’t have any other options. I was in a foster home until I was eighteen, and then I struck out on my own.”
I’m sure the girl is feeling sorry for me, but that’s not what I was fishing for. I neither need nor want anyone’s pity. And that applies to you as well. Don’t you dare click your tongue or bat your eyes or do anything that indicates that you feel sorry for me.
The first half of my life story might be on the sad side of things, but look at me now. I turned out just fine despite everything I went through. In fact, that stuff made me stronger. Without those experiences, I wouldn’t have been so driven. I wouldn’t have worked harder than everyone else to be successful. My present situation would probably be very different right now. Forget about six-figure salaries, I would be lucky to have any job at all.
Emily and I have been quiet for the past two minutes. One of us needs to say something, and soon. Might as well be me. I’m the one who volunteered that information. She didn’t force it out.
“What about your parents? What are they like?”
Not a very subtle way to change the subject, I know.
“Oh, I don’t know if we should talk about them.”
“Come on, don’t hold back just because of me. I won’t be jealous because your childhood was better than mine. I’m not that petty.”
Emily sighs before speaking. “If you really want to know, then alright. Both of my parents are still alive. I’m closer to my father than my mother. Even though he works and she doesn’t, he’s always been the warmer one. The one who always has time for me, to hear my problems.”
“Sounds like a good man.”
As my eyes adjust to the dark, I see a smile emerge on the girl’s face.
“I think you would like him.”
“Uh-huh.” I almost tell her that I look forward to meeting him, but catch myself at the last possible moment. What a colossal blunder that would have been. You don’t say that sort of thing to a girl you’re having a one-night stand with.
“Yeah. No one who ever comes in contact with him ends up disliking him.”
“So he’s a lot like you then,” I say, aiming for flattery. “Everyone likes him.”
Emily laughs. “You don’t have to keep sweet talking me. You already got me into bed.”
“It’s not sweet talk. It’s just the way I am.”
That’s a lie. I’m usually a very closed off person. I don’t know why I said that. Some subconscious need to further impress her.
“If that’s true, then it’s a real shame we’re not going to see each other again after tomorrow. Maybe we could have had something.”
I think she said that with a tongue-in-cheek intent, but nevertheless, the cat is out of the bag. The idea is now floating around for each of us to think about.
What if tonight isn’t it? What if we kept going?
It’s a bad idea to even entertain such notions.
“You don’t have to get so quiet. I was only joking. I’m not one of those clingy girls who thinks every guy she sleeps with loves her.”
“No, it’s not that. I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
This is my chance to put an end to this. The conversation has taken a very dangerous turn. It has to be brought to an abrupt halt, and the only way to do that is to bring on the silence.
“About how I need to get up early tomorrow and get to my office.”
“On a Sunday?”
“Yeah. I just remembered a few things I have to do.” I have to sell this properly to avoid looking like a jerk. “It’ll make it easier for me on Monday. Otherwise I’ll have to pick up the load during the week.”
“Oh.”
That’s all she says. Just “Oh.”
“But we can keep talking if you want,” I say quickly. “I’m not saying this so you’ll shut-up or anything.”
“No. I got it. I won’t bug you.” I feel her moving away from me, right to the other corner of the bed. “Thanks for the talk. Goodnight.”
“Wait, I…”
What the fuck happened? Did I actually say that? Did I actually tell her that I’m not trying to make her shut-up?
Yes and yes.
When you tell a girl that you’re not trying to make her be quiet, she knows that that’s exactly what you’re doing.
“Right. Goodnight.” And with a sigh, I go back to staring at the ceiling and waiting for sleep to take me.
Chapter 20
I don’t remember at what point I finally dozed off, but now I’m sure it’s the morning. I can detect the traces of sunlight coming in through my curtains.
I stretch my arms behind my head, mak
ing contact with the headboard. After that, I blink away the flurries at the corner of my vision and rise a little in bed. I’m happy to see that I’m not lying in a bathtub full of ice with one of my kidneys missing (Hey, when you spend the night with a stranger, you have to spare at least a few seconds worrying about such things). I shift my body underneath the sheets and move towards the edge of the bed.
Wait a minute.
Something is definitely wrong.
That sensation you get when you know there’s someone watching you or sitting down close to you—this is the opposite of that. I should be able to feel the presence of another being in the room with me, but I can’t. I’m all alone, so what the hell happened to the girl? Where did she run off to?
I get out of bed, put on my boxers, and then begin to explore the rest of house in search of Emily.
This would be the part of the story where I realize that there never was a girl with me the previous night and that I imagined the whole thing. Perhaps I’ll even come to the conclusion that my home is also just a figment of my imagination—that I’m actually a patient at a mental asylum for publicists guys who have suffered nervous breakdowns.
Nope.
Nothing that simple or easy. Emily is real, and either she left the house while I was asleep, or she’s still somewhere inside. I begin to call out her name. I make sure to keep my tone steady in case she is actually somewhere nearby—I don’t want her to hear me panicking. Once a female is familiar with the way you sound when you’re losing your cool, there’s no coming back from that. No way to undo it.
“Yeah. I’m in here.”
I sigh, and then immediately curse myself for doing that.
You should be disappointed she’s still here, you dumbass.
I track the sound of her voice to one of the bathrooms. The door is open and the girl is leaning against the frame, looking at me with raised eyebrows. “You need something?” she says as if we’re at her house and I’m an unwelcome guest. She’s obviously still mad about what happened between us the previous night. The things I said must have struck a nerve and made her feel unwelcome.
“I was just wondering where you’d run off to,” I say calmly.
“I was washing my face before leaving.”
“Why didn’t you use the bathroom over there,” I gesture in the direction of my bedroom. There’s a bathroom right outside in the hall. What is she doing so far away?
“I didn’t want to disturb you with the noise. I know you need your rest for all the important things you have to do today. Funny, I remember you saying something about needing to get up early, but it’s eight o clock already.” Sarcastically she adds, “You must have overslept, huh?”
“Look, I’m sorry about that,” I say, meaning it. I then pause, wondering how much I should divulge to her. I’ve never let a member of the opposite sex into my heart before. But what other choice do I have? “It’s just all those questions you were asking me… I’m a private man. I don’t like to talk about myself. The fact that I told you about my mother is bad enough.”
She takes an urgent step forward. “I didn’t force you to do that.”
“I know. I didn’t say you did. Something came over me and I spilled my guts and panicked once I realized what I was doing. Can we please just forget about it and move on?” I wait a few beats before continuing. “Getting someone like me to both apologize and say please is nearly miraculous. It’s the best I can give you in terms of a peace offering.”
For a moment there, I really think that she’ll say no. Her face indicates that she’s on the fence about the issue. But then her features soften up and she says, “Alright. I forgive you. I guess it was a bit unfair to put you on the spot like that. It’s not like I’m your girlfriend. Your business is your business.” She crosses her arms. “But still, all you had to do was tell me to fuck off. I would have kept quiet after that. There was no need for all that garbage about needing to get up early and get to work.”
I shrug. She has me there. But I have a good defense for my actions. “I didn’t want to speak to you that way. You’re too…” I can’t think of the right words, so I settle for whatever comes to my mind first. “You’re too innocent. Too pure.”
“Pure?” The girl says, looking confused. “I’m obviously not a virgin. Even if I had been one before, I’m certainly not one now after last night.”
“No, no. That’s not what I meant. Pure, as in sweet. You just have this quality about you. You’re the sort of person who makes the people around you wish they could be better than they are.”
Chapter 21
That burst of vulnerability makes me feel sick to my stomach. I have to do something to bury it deep down. The obvious escape is to act on the most primal urge a man has.
Without hesitation I close the distance between us and stand right in front of the girl.
Emily uncrosses her arms and looks a bit timid about what’s happening. I wrap my arms around her waist and bend my head to kiss her. She doesn’t respond at first, but then she melts into the kiss.
“At least shower before you go,” I suggest after we break apart.
“Are you saying I smell bad?” she says in jest. “I was actually planning on taking a shower after I got home.”
“You smell terrific.” I tighten my grip around the girl, not enough to hurt her, just enough to let her know what’s on my mind. “I want you to take a shower so that I can join you in there. Sound like something you might be interested in?”
She pretends to think about it. “Uh, maybe.”
“Maybe?” I kiss her again. “You’re going to have to do better than that. I only like direct answers.”
She laughs at me. “You’re used to getting exactly what you want all the time, aren’t you?”
“Pretty much.” And with that I kiss her again and start to remove her clothes. If she showed even the slightest sign that she wasn’t into it, I would stop. But as it is, she actually joins in and helps me to get her shirt off. Within seconds she’s standing in front of me completely nude. My eyes roam all over her petite body as I quickly dispatch with the only thing I’m wearing: a pair of boxers.
Believe it or not, I’ve never had sex in the shower before. A bathroom? Sure. The kitchen counter? Absolutely. But inside a shower? Nope. The situation has never come up before.
The warm water sprays over us as we enjoy one another. I run my hands all over her body as I enter her again and again. I can feel her lips brushing against my neck, but I don’t return the favor by kissing her. In fact, I’m not even looking at her. My eyes are trained on one of the tiles next to the shower. I want to avoid a repeat of the previous night. No eye contact this time around.
It’s another ten minutes before I even register the fact that my legs have fallen asleep.
“Turn around,” I say to the girl, easing away from her and scrunching my toes in an effort to generate blood flow. She does as I ask and we pick up right where we left off.
There are two small differences this time. The first is that she has her hands pressed up against the tiles a few inches above her head—and I have my fingers laced through hers in both hands.
How did my hands get up there?
What in the flaming hell am I doing?
Am I holding hands with her?
Why am I still doing it?
The second difference is that I have my face pressed up against the back of her head. I can smell the shampoo she used the day before through the dampness of her brown locks. Strawberries. I inhale it all in as I continue to take her from behind.
I’m lost in the passion until my body alerts me to the inevitable. I spurt inside her and slide out of her body once my penis has returned to its normal state. I stand there panting alongside her until I catch my breath. Then I lean in close to her ear once again and say, “I really hope that stuff about the birth control pills was true, otherwise we’re screwed. How am I going to explain to people that I impregnated a twenty-year-old?”
&
nbsp; She turns her head to look at me. Beads of water are running down from the top of her head and scattering all over her naked body. “You have nothing to be worried about. Trust me.”
Chapter 22
Emily finishes off her time in the shower and steps out. She grabs a towel from a rack on the side, and up until she wraps it around herself, I’m enjoying the view. With her gone from the bathroom, I have nothing to do but actually take a proper shower. Problem is that I’ve never used that bathroom before, so my shampoo and conditioner and body wash are all missing in action.
I don’t let that stop me. Nothing wrong with going all natural once in a while.
Hey, at least I’m bathing. Some guys don’t even think it’s necessary to do that much every day.
I spend the next ten minutes under the water. It isn’t because I need it to help me wake up. I’m already wide awake thanks to my early-morning quickie.
Once my skin started to prune up, I turn the faucet to shut off the flow of water. I step out of the shower and dry myself off with a white towel. The boxers are the only clothing I have at my disposal, so I decide to go out into the hall completely naked. It isn’t like Emily will be shocked because she’s looking at something she hasn’t seen before. We know each other intimately.
And besides, it’s my house. My kingdom. If I want to run around in a jockstrap while singing songs from the 80’s, even then nobody would be able to stop me. That’s the good thing about owning your own place and living by yourself. You make the rules.
I tousle my hair with a bit more enthusiasm than usual. I’m feeling something pretty damn close to pure happiness. I tell myself it’s because I just had sex—who doesn’t feel happy after sex?—but deep beneath the surface I know there’s more to it than that.
I shrug those thoughts out of my head and walk towards my bedroom. It doesn’t strike me as strange that Emily isn’t there. I just assume she’s somewhere else in the house. She has to be, right?
