by Monica James
This awkwardness continues on for what seems like hours and when Sam looks into my eyes, I turn away, burying my face into the pillow. I can’t look at him, afraid he’ll see my lack of excitement. I resemble a starfish, lying there, waiting for him to finish. This isn’t like riding a bike because now that I’ve fallen off, I don’t think I ever want to get back on.
This act was once filled with love, but now, it’s filled with nothing but boredom and regret. Whether he can read my detachment or not, I’ll never know because it doesn’t seem to bother him either way. He pumps into me, his forceful strokes moving me up the bed. I bang my head on the wooden headboard, yelping on impact. Samuel misinterprets my pain for passion.
“That’s it, babe. Work with me.”
I try and get involved, to make this a team sport, but I can’t. He resembles a bunny, sprinting towards the finished line, while I never began the race. When he groans and finally collapses on top of me, I’m actually thankful it’s over. I keep my face turned, unable to look at him because he’ll see I’m about to cry. When he pulls out, his seed spills down my leg. He doesn’t bother to clean up after himself as he rises and closes the bathroom door behind him.
Rolling onto my side, I hug my pillow into me, never feeling more alone. An act which should unite two people has driven us further apart. I feel dirty, coated in shame. I thought sex could save our relationship but instead, I think I’ve just made things worse.
* * * * *
22nd May 2005
Dear diary,
This entry is probably going to be the shortest one yet because there are simply no words to describe how I feel. Tonight was prom. And it was the night I lost my virginity to Sam.
I don’t regret a single moment because it was perfect.
He was gentle, caring, attentive, and patient—all the things a girl could ever ask for. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that. It was better. It hurt, but the pain…it felt good after a while.
I still can’t believe it happened.
Once I come down from cloud nine, I will detail every second, but for now, I just want to appreciate the reality that I’ll be connected to Samuel forever.
Sex really does change everything.
Eighteen
I want a do-over.
If I could take back the last twelve hours, I would. I would take it all back.
The empty place beside me has long since cooled as Samuel rose quite early. I, on the other hand, plan on staying in bed forever.
I can’t believe we had sex. And I don’t mean that in a toe curling, hot, and bothered way, either. Piper has shared many of her horror sex stories with me, and although I felt for her, I didn’t understand because sex with Samuel was always good. But last night, it was bad. So very bad.
Once he emerged from the bathroom, I pretended I was asleep, as I couldn’t deal with talking or cuddling or worse still, him wanting to do it again. He snored contentedly beside me, while I didn’t sleep a wink. It’s the first night he’s slept beside me, and I’ve never felt more alone.
Saxon’s comment rings loudly in my ears because in this circumstance, it’s true. I’ve never felt more alone than I do right now. I was stupid to think that having sex could somehow miraculously fix what is so broken between us. What happened wasn’t making love because there is no love between us. There is no emotional connection. It’s gone. I really am in love with a ghost.
I can’t swallow down this ball of regret because there is another reason why I did what I did. I’m so ashamed of myself. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I slept with Samuel to prove to myself that I don’t have feelings for Saxon. But it’s backfired. It’s only proven that I do.
When I saw Saxon take Piper into his room, I was jealous. And I was hurt. I know I have no right to feel this way, but I’ve finally discovered what that “something” is. I have feelings for Saxon, feelings I shouldn’t have. But thinking back to our first encounter, I believe they’ve always been there.
I don’t know what to do. The person I would usually go and spill my heart and soul to is the person who is driving my regret. I can’t have feelings for Saxon; I know that it’s wrong. But I can’t help it.
Stewing alone is making me feel worse, so I decide to face the music. If luck is on my side, Piper and Saxon will still be asleep, caught in a post-coitus bubble, and I can disappear for the day. Or maybe the week.
I take a scalding shower, wishing I could scrub the shame from my skin. Sadly, it’s still there when I open the door and try not to trip over discarded cups, empty beer bottles, and half-eaten packets of Cheetos.
The living room looks like an atomic bomb has exploded and in its wake, it’s left behind debris of the party kind. It’s going to take all day to clean this mess up, but it’s a good way to keep occupied.
The kitchen looks even worse, and as I hunt through my drawers to find the garbage bags, I find a dildo instead. It’s evident the world was on crazy drugs last night.
Deciding to start with the kitchen, I roll up my sleeves and begin collecting all the bottles from the counter. I have no idea how many people were here last night, but judging from the mess, I’d say a lot. I’m surprised no one crashed, seeing as a ton of alcohol was consumed, but I still have the rest of the house and outside to clean.
I’m in the process of filling bag number three when someone announces their arrival by scraping the barstool along the tiles. Looking up, I see Piper slumped on the chair, cradling her brow. “Kill me,” she moans into her palms.
Usually I would smile, but now, I just feel sick. “Rough night?” I cringe the moment the words leave my lips.
“Like you wouldn’t believe. Is there any coffee?”
“Coming right up,” I reply, trying my best to mask my emotions.
The bottles rattle as I dump the bag onto the floor. “Ah, not so loud,” Piper gripes, placing her cheek against the counter.
“How much did you have to drink last night?” I ask, washing my hands.
“I don’t remember. I don’t remember much of anything, actually.”
With my back turned, I question, “Oh? Where did you crash? In one of the spare rooms?”
She is silent, which is never a good sign. “In Saxon’s room.”
My hands tremble as I dry them on paper towel. “Wow. That’s…great, Pipe.” Before I can interrogate her further, the back door swings open and in strolls Samuel.
The moment I see him, I feel even sicker than I already feel. I roll the paper towel into a tiny ball and clench my fist around it. “Hey, babe,” he says, giving me a kiss on the cheek. Piper half raises her weary head from the counter and cocks an inquisitive brow. “I’m just going for a quick shower. Any coffee?”
“I-I was just making some,” I reply, fumbling over my words.
“Awesome, I won’t be long. Better make it strong. Mr. Personality out there needs a hit of caffeine, stat,” he jeers smugly.
I blanch.
Sam walks down the hallway whistling happily while I tighten my fist. The moment he’s out of earshot, Piper lifts herself from the counter and wiggles her pointer at me. “You had sex.”
It’s not a question, but rather a statement. I see no point denying it. “Yup.” But that’s all I can say. I don’t want to elaborate, or talk about it in general because I just want to forget it happened.
But of course, Piper has other ideas. “That’s it? Yup?”
“Yup,” I reply, spinning around. I fumble with the coffee maker as she presses.
“Nah-uh. What happened?”
Hoping to evade her with humor, I commence, “Well, when a man likes a woman, he sticks his…”
“Luce, cut the crap. What aren’t you telling me?”
There are a lot of things I’m not telling her, like how I have feelings for the man she just hooked up with. “It was fine, Pipe. Can we change the subject?”
“Fine?” she says, disgusted. “Fine is what you say when things are not fine. F
ine is not the word you use to describe sex. What happened? I thought you’d be out there singing, ‘the hills are alive with the sound of mmm I just got laid?’”
“Looks like you thought wrong,” I reply with bite. I really don’t want to talk about this because the more she pushes, the more I’m bound to breakdown and tell her everything.
“Lucy Eva Tucker, look at me.” Sighing, I turn around, proud of myself for keeping the tears away. “What’s wrong?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. We had sex and well…it was kind of, sort of very, very awful.”
Her mouth hits the floor. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…I feel like I had sex with the Energizer Bunny.”
“Ooh.” She makes a pained face. “Sex sprain?”
I rub my head. “No, more like a brain sprain.”
“I don’t understand. What happened? I thought he was stellar in the sack?”
“He was, but…” I draw a blank because I can’t tell her it sucked because there was no feeling behind it. It was mere screwing to get off. Well, for Samuel, not for me.
She fills in the blanks. “But what? He forgot how to fuck, too?”
“Piper! Not so loud.” I gesture with my hands for her to lower her voice.
“Screw him. Actually, on second thought…” She backtracks, scrunching up her nose.
There is a big, fat elephant in the room that needs addressing but I don’t know how. While we’re on the topic of sex, I suppose I could ask her how it was with Saxon. But do I really want to know? Her rumpled appearance points to one hell of a night.
That has me turning back around and silently making our coffee. As I’m waiting for it to percolate, I gaze out the wide, triple paneled window above the sink, lost in thought. A figure stalking across the yard catches my eye, ending my moment of serenity.
Saxon looks livid. He has a garbage bag draped over his shoulder but makes no use of it as he kicks a beer bottle across the grass. As it hits the wall of the dining room and shatters, I jerk back, stunned. I watch as he slams the bag onto the ground, mumbling something under his breath.
Sam did say he was cranky, but this appears to be beyond cranky. I quickly reach for a mug and pour the boiling contents into it. Just as I turn and ask Piper if she wants sugar, I see that she’s sound asleep on the counter. That explains why the questions stopped.
Composing myself as best as I can, I push open the backdoor, carrying Saxon’s hot coffee in hand. The early morning sunlight is blinding, so I squint, shielding a hand over my eyes. The closer I come to Saxon, the clearer it becomes that he’s incredibly mad. Did he have a fight with Samuel? And if so, over what?
“Good morning.” I stop a few feet away, watching Saxon as he wordlessly picks up trash. “I brought coffee,” I say when he doesn’t acknowledge me.
When he continues picking up bottles, ignoring me, I know his anger is directed at me. I’ve never been more terrified than I am right now. “Saxon? Is everything all right?” He turns his broad back, a silent fuck you.
He must be angry about our almost kiss, but why would he be? He welcomed Piper into his bed, and I…welcomed Sam into mine. I remember Sam’s smugness, his quip that Saxon was crabby. The universe tilts on its axis and a sense of dread surrounds me. I feel like I’m about to drown.
He knows. I don’t know how he knows; I just know that he does.
Placing his untouched coffee on a log, I press, “Saxon…”
“Did you have a nice night?” he sneers, his back still turned.
I’m caught with my mouth hanging open. “It was o-okay.”
“Just okay? I’m sure you can do better than that.” His voice is angry, bitter, and pained.
“I went to bed early,” I reply, which earns me an incensed laugh.
“The festivities not exciting enough for you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I bark, not appreciating his tone. “And the least you can do is look at me.”
He turns around so quickly I take a step back, afraid he’s going to bowl me over with his wrath. He radiates nothing but pure rage as he pins me with a stare that is laced with hate. “I owe you nothing.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to stop the tears. “Why are you so angry at me?”
“I’m not angry!”
“You could have fooled me!”
Something big is about to happen—I can feel it.
We’re at a standstill, waiting for the other to confirm what we both know to be true. We’re both holding onto secrets, but I won’t stand here and be made to feel guilty for having sex with my fiancé.
“If you’ve got something to say, then say it, Saxon.” I’m done playing. Yes, I had sex with Sam, but he had sex with my best friend who he doesn’t even like. Or maybe he does. Either way, he has no right to reprimand me.
His lips pull into a thin line “Oh, I don’t think you’ll want to hear what I’ve got to say.”
“Funny that, because you probably won’t like what I’ve got to say, either.”
My comment knocks him off his high horse, and he blinks once. “I highly doubt that. Say whatever you’ve got to say. I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”
His arrogance is pissing me off and I suddenly explode. “I saw you.”
“Saw what?” he replies, expressionless.
Images of him taking a giggling Piper into his room play on repeat, fueling me to yell, “I saw you and Piper!”
“Saw me and Piper what?” he has the gall to question, enraging me further.
“I saw you take her into your room, where you no doubt fucked the living hell out of her!” Those words are ones I would never use, but I’m driving on pure emotion, fire behind the wheel.
He looks stunned for a fraction of a second, before he howls out a throaty snigger. Why is he laughing? His aloofness sets me off, and I storm forward, shoving at his chest with both hands. The laughter dies in his throat.
“Do that again and see what happens,” he warns, his jaw clenched.
“Oh, what are you going to do, you big macho man?” I mock, thrusting my palms against his chest once again. This time however, his hands snap out and lock around my wrists. The pressure is firm, almost punishing, but the tremble in his fingers betrays the fact that he’s just as crazed as I am.
He tightens his grip and draws me towards him so we’re inches apart. His breath feels like an out of control tempest as it lashes against my face. “So that’s why you had sex with him, because you saw me take Piper into my room?” I gasp, his confession leaving me winded. “You got back at me for wanting someone…other than you.”
I’m left speechless, tears of anger pricking my eyes. He wants me? The lowered brow, thinned lips, and flared nostrils all point to one thing—he’s wanted me all along. And I…I’ve wanted him.
Every moment we’ve spent together comes roaring like a tidal wave, memories overtaking my rage and nothing has been clearer. What have I done?
“Was it good for you? Because damn, it was good for me!” he shouts vulgarly. “That Piper, hmm—” he hums, licking his lips “—she’s a real pistol. Went right off when I…”
But I don’t allow him to finish a sentence I have no interest hearing. I yank my wrists from his hold and slap his cheek so hard, I’m almost certain I’ve broken my hand. I clutch it to my chest, tears pricking my eyes.
“You’re disgusting!” I spit, ready to hit him again for speaking that way about Piper.
“Well, better that than a liar.” He rubs his reddening cheek.
“A liar?”
“Yes, Lucy, you’re a liar.”
“How am I a liar?” I cry, not understanding what I’ve lied about. I never denied sleeping with Sam.
He shakes his head, exasperated. “Figure it out yourself. I’m done.” He’s done? Is he leaving? For good? Well, good riddance. I don’t want him here anyway.
The moment those thoughts float to the surface, I realize that Saxon is right. I am a liar. I’ve been lying
to myself this entire time.
The backdoor swings open and out charges Sam. “What’s going on? I heard yelling. Is everything all right?” Something the old Sam would say, but that Sam is dead. And so are my feelings for him. I don’t know what I feel for the new Sam.
“Go back to living your memories of yesterday,” Saxon spits into my face, “because you’re too afraid to live for today.” With that, he storms off while I choke back my tears.
Sam is by my side, rubbing my arm. “What’s his problem? Are you okay? You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine,” I unconvincingly state, brushing his hand off of me as I watch Saxon stampede into the barn.
He has no idea what’s going on as he stands clueless before me, waiting for answers. Answers I can’t give. “Coffee is on the counter,” I say in a zombie-like voice, turning towards the house.
“Hey, you’re not going to tell me what happened?” he says, stunned.
“There’s nothing to tell,” I reply, and walk towards the backdoor.
Piper is still drooling on the counter, oblivious to what just happened—lucky her. The moment I burst into my bedroom, hot tears slide down my cheeks. I lean my back against the door, drumming my head against the wood grain.
I remember when we were all having breakfast and I couldn’t quite place my finger on why I wasn’t over the moon that Sam was making an effort. Something didn’t feel right, and I didn’t know why. But now I do. I don’t want things to go back to normal. Too much has happened.
I don’t fail to see the irony in all of this. I wanted so desperately for Sam to remember, but now, I want him to forget.
Nothing makes sense anymore. My endless diaries look back at me from their boxes, taunting me with what once was, but that’s no longer. It’ll never be again. Angrily wiping away my tears, I storm through my room and kick over a box, the contents spilling all over the floor. Dropping to my knees, I frantically rip open each diary, flicking through the pages, desperate to find a blank page—a blank canvas to start new.
After tossing diary after diary over my shoulder, I finally find a fresh page. Hunting through my bedside dresser, I find a pen.
