by L. J. Stock
“But she said…” Rhiannon faded off as the factuality finally caught up with her. As I’d expected, Jessica had needed someone to lean on and she’d lied to make sure there was a strong foundation there. “I’m an idiot.”
“No, you’re trusting. Huge difference,” I said, twisting her hair around my fingers. “I can’t lie. The girl’s good at what she does. She knows how to get her own way.”
“But that’s almost six years of friendship all based on an absolute lie. All of those times she convinced me to do something, all those times we did what she wanted… Ethan, I threw away all those years because she saw me for the mug I am.”
“You’re not a mug.”
She gave me an incredulous look and, noticing how close I was for the first time, slid away from me a little. It was at that point that I realised I had to work a little harder for what I wanted from her. This wasn’t a one night kind of deal.
Watching her shiver, I reached out and rubbed her arms gently to warm her.
“Come on. Let’s go find somewhere warm and quiet to talk.”
“Just talk?”
Raising my hands and my eyebrows, I grinned at her. “Just talking tonight. I promise.”
I almost stayed true to my word with Rhiannon. We mostly talked for the rest of the night, but at the end, I pushed my luck and kissed her. I needed her to know I didn’t see her as a sympathy case and that I could, in all actuality, control myself.
We parted ways with long, lingering looks and my promise to call her later, which I did the moment I got home. We talked all night that first night. I did all the talking and avoided the topic of me. It stayed that way for weeks after the party. I would get high and just listen to her voice, asking her the most stupid of questions until she would laugh and tell me to go to sleep.
Rhiannon joined me on most of the days I could stand to be sober, which wasn’t as often as anyone would have liked. I don’t think even Dean had realised how deep I was into the shit at that point. I avoided him as much as my Dad when I was high like that. The thought of my salvation being ripped from my fingers was more than I could handle.
When Rhiannon and I did go out, I overcompensated with drink and flirting, my hands inexplicably managing to keep to themselves. I found myself enjoying her company. Not in the romantic sense, but as a friend. When she caught me high and called me on it, she would oblige my behaviour. She’d flirt with me, her voice coaxing some of those needed emotions from me.
The more weeks that passed, the more I grew comfortable with her. We would meet up for dinner after work, whether I was high or not. The phone calls and texts became the most consistent things in my life. Looking back, it was probably the closest thing to a relationship I'd had up to that point, and even then my selfishness was to blame for it. I wasn't invested; I never gave her a chance to get inside my head or my heart. She was simply a challenge. One I ended up hating myself for.
It was an accident that I managed to get her alone. She and I had the same morning off, and Dad and Dean were at the garage. I’d told her to swing by the house early. I figured we could watch a movie before Dean got home, which was around the same time she started work. It was a completely innocent invitation.
Well, it was innocent until she showed up at my door in a very low-cut jumper. I was hard the moment she took her coat off and my eyes found and stayed on her cleavage. Rhiannon was the kind of girl that normally wore her shirts buttoned all the way up, or her zips completely closed. My imagination had gone wild a couple of times from seeing her in those outfits, but having that shit on display was a bit much for my dick. I was a nineteen-year-old lad; it was natural.
I think she knew I was high the moment I rearranged myself without thinking, her wide eyes following my hand before she averted her gaze. She didn't say anything though, just stepped into me and gave me one of those lingering kisses she was so good at. I think there was a part of me that knew some of my appeal for her was that she wanted to fix me.
“Shit, come in, Rhia. You just look great. I forgot my manners,” I said, stepping back from her and the door and waving her in, my eyes on her arse as she passed.
“Thank you,” she whispered, shrugging her coat off. She might as well have been wearing a neon bloody sign saying "shag me." The girl normally hid under baggy clothing and this was anything but - tight jeans, tighter jumper and a bloody push-up bra.
The pair of us stood there for the longest moment before we realised we were staring at one another. Of course, it didn’t help that every step I took had my jeans rubbing against a very awkward erection brought on by the sight of her.
“Ethan?”
“Cup of tea?”
“Oh, um sure, thanks.”
I steered her toward the living room and turned around, my hand palming my dick in an attempt to find some area of comfort. The ecstasy running through my veins demanded more, however. It demanded I do some other ungentlemanly things that would be guaranteed to get me slapped. For my body, it was all systems go, though. Three weeks of patience went out the window and now my raging hormones were mingling with the chemical high. The girl wanted to be fucked and I was just the lad to oblige.
The tea was weak as piss as I carried it into the living room, and poor Rhiannon was wandering around, unsure what to do with her arms as she looked at the pictures of us and mum over the years.
“I like your house, Ethan. It feels like a home.”
“It did once,” I replied sadly, not thinking about how it would make her feel. The drugs had a tendency to make me a selfish bastard. Shaking off the self pity and flashing her a smile, I stumbled forward to hand her the mug I’d made for her.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think.” She took the tea without question, stared down at it and set it on the table, suddenly looking like she was stood in front of a firing squad. “Maybe this was a bad idea. I’m so used to neutral territory. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Rhiannon, I can control myself. I’m not going to jump you. You came round to watch a movie.”
“Ethan, this is the first time we’ve been alone together. I came here thinking maybe… But I’m not sure anymore. It’s too soon.”
I started laughing and dropped down on the couch, slipping my own mug onto the side table. Patting the seat beside me, I displayed more patience waiting for her to give in and sit down next to me, which she did, eventually.
“Can I be honest with you, Rhia?”
“Yes, please.” She looked up at me, her hands pooling in her lap where she wrung them together. She was worried about what I was going to say, but at the same time, I knew she appreciated the honesty I was offering her.
“I didn’t think about sex once until I saw what you were wearing, sweetheart.”
She looked down at herself and burst into laughter, her body sinking into the couch and into me.
“Bloody hell, you’re right. I made a new friend, Jenny, and I confess I’ve spoken to her about you, and you not seeming interested in me in that way.” Her cheeks flushed at the comment and her eyes moved down to her hands and back up. “She said… Well, she said that I should show you that I’m interested in you and so she loaned me some clothes.”
Rhiannon waved her hands up and down and then blushed even more. She had no idea at all how vulnerable she looked when she did that. The fact that she thought I had no interest in sex with her was just ridiculous. That was all I thought about. I liked her as a friend, sure, but that sexual need was the most prevalent thing when we were close to one another.
“You don’t think I’m interested in sex? With you?”
“I chickened out. I’m sorry.”
Standing up, I offered her my hand and tilted it toward the stairs.
“Ethan…”
“No plans. We go watch a movie, maybe kiss a bit. If it goes further, great. If it doesn’t, who cares?”
She studied me a moment more before her smile broke free and her hand slipped into mine. “No plans.”
“Rig
ht, but I get to pick the movie.”
“Why?”
Dropping my arm around her waist, I led her up the stairs and smirked at her playfully. If we weren’t having sex, I fully intended to feel her pressed up against me.
We spent the entire day up in my room, but we weren't watching movies. Not for very long at least.
I tried very hard to be good, knowing that she was now expecting me to instigate something, but I didn't. I stayed true to my word and let things go down as naturally as possible, and in the end, she made the first move.
I spent almost two hours exploring her body with my mouth. Every dip and curve of her figure fascinated me, the drugs spurring me on until the neighbours probably heard her moans. I took my time with her. The fact that she was a virgin repeated in my head and banged off my skull. It took my high to a new level, and after almost four hours of explosive sex, I collapsed on top of her, sweating and panting, my heart pounding in my chest as I slowly unhooked her knees from my shoulders.
Rhiannon's smile was radiant as I looked up at her, the pink in her cheeks from exertion rather than embarrassment as her fingers buried themselves in my hair. I’d thought I was completely spent, but the last of the drugs in my body had me leaning into her touch.
"Is it always like that?" she asked breathlessly, her eyes closed as her damp hair stuck to her chest and neck.
She couldn't see me, but I smiled anyway.
"It can be." I didn't have the heart to tell her that some of my endurance had come from the drugs still coursing through my blood - that the explosive sensation of touch spurred me on beyond my own capability of thought.
I climbed up the bed and collapsed beside her, trying not to let the comedown from the drugs make me cold toward her. With the loss of touch, I could feel the numbness settling in around me again. I got what I wanted, but that didn’t mean I wanted her to feel cheap after what we did.
Snuggling against me, her curves pressed against my naked body as I felt… nothing. There was no post coital glow that people talked about, or pleased as punch feeling for getting what I wanted. I had managed to convince this girl, this beautiful, sweet girl, to hand me her virginity, and I felt nothing.
"I didn't hurt you, did I?" I asked awkwardly as she pressed kisses over my bare shoulders. It should have been something I was conscious of while it was happening, but I'd been lost in my head, in the moment. It had only just occurred to me. I felt like such a shit, but her contented sigh pushed any idle thought of hurting her away as she began to explain.
"Not really. There was a moment of, umm, discomfort, but that thing you did with your thumb certainly helped.”
I smiled and nodded, pressing my lips to her forehead in a forced expression of affection. I should have been able to give her so much more, but there was nothing. Just another empty example of physical gratification.
All I wanted, in that one moment, was to get her out of my house. The guilt was like a ball of tension inside of me. Not even the drugs seemed to be offering me an escape. When I excused myself to go to the bathroom, I took another hit in hopes of feeling anything but the growing emptiness inside of myself.
I walked back into my room, my body buzzing and my mind processing every brush of air as I moved. I saw her dozing on my bed, her dark hair feathered over my pillow and her lips curled in a smile of contentment, and I stopped short. For a split second, I entertained the thought of climbing in beside her and wrapping my arms around her, to feel her body pressed against mine sending warm tingles through me, but the inclination was gone the moment my eyes glanced off the alarm clock next to the bed.
Dean would be home in thirty minutes.
It wasn’t like he didn’t know I had sex. He was just as bad as I was these days, but this was Rhiannon, and whether or not he recognised her, I needed to get her out of the house. The last thing I wanted to do was explain to my best friend and kid brother what an absolute shit I was.
"Everything okay?" Rhiannon asked sleepily, her eyes barely open as she took me in, standing there in my boxers. Any other time the seductive little grin she wore would be appealing, but the sudden panic that had seized me shut me down to anything but motivation to get rid of her.
I moved across the room and sat on the edge of the bed, smiling as best I could. It wouldn't have been such a bad thing to have her stay a little longer, but at the same time, it would change nothing. I hated myself for what I'd done there that day, and seeing her was going to remind me of that. I got what I wanted, but it was another empty victory.
"My kid brother’s going to be home soon."
"Oh, I..." She looked at the clock and genuine surprise flashed in her eyes. "I'm going to be late. I have to work tonight. I didn't realize we'd been…” She flushed and grinned shyly. "Right... well, I guess I should get dressed."
I don't know what made me do it, but I leaned in and kissed her, my lips curling into a wide smile. Maybe it was the adorable pleading look she gave me with her eyes, or the sudden bashfulness about a body on which I'd covered every inch of skin with my lips. I sincerely didn't know, but I had a moment of regret for not feeling more for her.
"You're mocking me." She laughed, planting her hand on my shoulder and pushing lightly. "You think I'm being silly."
"I do, but it's almost sickeningly adorable." I laughed and moved back from the bed, pulling on my jeans. "I'll go make us a cuppa."
"Thanks, Ethan." The look she gave me made my stomach drop, and the guilt made my head pound awkwardly. This was so much worse than I thought. I could see that look in her eyes. The look. The one that said ‘I'm thinking about our future.’
I gave her a small nod as I grabbed a shirt and headed for the door, my hands running through my hair the moment it clicked closed behind me. What the fuck was I doing? How the fuck could I make such a fucking mess of things? Now she was going to get hurt, and I hated that thought, but what else was there to do? I had to cut all ties, because it was only going to get worse.
I started to freak out as I headed to the stairs, almost walking straight into Dean as he came through the door. He gave me one look and then looked upstairs with a smirk.
"Don't say it, Dean. Just don't."
He frowned at me as my hands flexed and balled to stop the trembling as my body slowly slid into the territory of a bad trip. I knew I needed to relax or it would only get worse, but I'd gone from feeling nothing to everything all at once, and there was no joyous euphoria with it this time. Just pure, naked panic. It was every negative feeling I had, crashing over me in waves and pulling me under.
"E?"
"I'm okay," I lied, offering him a lame attempt at a smile and nodding up the stairs. "I’ve just got to say goodbye. Mind giving me a minute?"
Playfully punching my shoulder, he gave me another look before heading toward the kitchen. He knew something was wrong, and that only made the anxiety inside me escalate. My high was quickly descending, and I could feel the beads of sweat forming on my forehead as my hands trembled awkwardly. I needed to regain control, and the first step in doing that was getting Rhiannon out of my house, so I could try and focus on Dean and acting straight.
"Ethan?" Rhiannon's voice was quiet as she skipped down the stairs. Her cheeks were pink and her skin was glowing as she reached the bottom and giggled, folding her arms around my neck as she leaned in for a kiss. Once again, I obliged her when I should have pulled away and made myself clear, but the guilt and sudden surge of panic told me to go with it.
The moment she pulled away, I wrapped an arm around her waist and put a finger over my lips, pointing to the kitchen. "Brother's home early.”
She made a face and grinned, nodding. Her silence told me she understood, but her lingering grip on my fingers as she left was another sign altogether.
I couldn't see her again. I felt too guilty; there was nothing there for me, while she was developing feelings. There was probably a much better way to handle it, but in that moment, I was perfectly happy to go down the ignor
e it until it goes away route.
She turned one last time at the end of the path and grinned, offering me a little wave before disappearing down the street, huddling into her coat. With an exaggerated exhale, I turned and saw Dean leaning against the kitchen door, blowing on a cup of tea with a knowing smile.
"Shut it. I don't want to hear it."
Time waits for no man. At least, that's what I read somewhere in one of my more lucid moments. The truth was, when you were on drugs, time left you behind. You don't tend to think about the relativity of the ticking clock as a teenager. It's just there, the hand moving in its clockwise pattern, never deferring and never changing. Maybe it's even taken for granted a little. In my drug-hazed days, I didn't pay attention to it at all if I didn't have to. It was just another side effect that I ignored along with the rest of them.
The two months after I slept with Rhiannon passed like that. I was so lost in my own head most of the time, I didn't know what day it was. If it hadn't been for work, I wasn't sure I would know what time it was at all. I moved about in a haze, the reality of life slipping between my fingers. I tried to stay sober for my shifts. Most days I would just get on with it, stacking the shelves and trying to make the most of the music, while bouncing around on the balls of my feet with a smile that was less than sincere. But there were also the days that felt as though they would never end and I was up the shit creek without a paddle. Inevitably, those were the days I allowed myself a little pick-me-up.
In mere months, my life had turned into one of those montages in films, where I was standing still while time seemed to speed up around me, leaving me behind and alone with my misery and the constant attempts to escape it. Dean had grown up, even in the five months since Mum died. He worked full time at the garage and went to the pub with his mates in the evenings. I'd seen him with a couple of girls, but like his big brother, I'd never seen him with the same one twice.
