up with him, right?”
Joel was my ex. He was nice but vacant, and he worked perfectly for what I needed. He smoked pot on the weekends and liked to play video games. We lasted longer than most of my relationships, mostly because he seemed more concerned with getting high than asking questions. But of course, it didn’t last.
Joel started to get too close. He started to want to know about my likes, dislikes, past, present, and if I could imagine a future with him.
So naturally, I ran.
“I know. I just wasn’t expecting him to move on so quickly,” I replied, the lie easily rolling off my lips. If I were being honest, I wasn’t drinking myself into oblivion because of Joel, but Nicole didn’t need to know that. I’d rather she think I was heartbroken than know what was really bothering me. The truth wasn’t as easy to swallow.
Joel spent all week fucking through anything with a pussy, and any normal girl who could actually fall in love would feel devastated about that, but not me.
I wasn’t healthy. I devoured affections and spun them into sophisticated insecurities, ending them without a care. I was a serial dater. A clingy friend that kept things surface level, then fled. There was a certain high I felt when getting to know someone. I was obsessed with hoarding personalities and hyper-focusing on the intricate tics of others to avoid my own. I liked making friends. I liked kissing random boys. It was sticking around that I struggled with. I was running out of people to fall for.
“You know what they say,” Nicole began. “The best way to get over an ex is to get under someone else.” She knocked my hip with hers and giggled. I doubted she had ever gotten under anyone. Nicole might’ve liked to host parties to piss off her parents, but she wasn’t actually as rebellious as she claimed to be. It was another one of those quirks I’d picked up on.
“I’m tired of the dating pool at Mountain Prep,” I argued. “It’s a bunch of fumbling boys that use your vagina like a fleshlight before asking, ‘Did you come?’” My chuckles filled the room as Nicole gaped at me. Our school was nestled in suburban utopia just outside of Denver, where the middle class thrived and every day at school felt like a reality TV show. People liked to create drama so their small town boredom was more palatable.
Nicole laughed as she peered around the room, assessing the growing crowd in her house. “I don’t know, I heard Chris is good in bed,” she offered, nodding at the preppy quarterback currently hitting a Juul and blowing smoke in some poor girl’s face. Oh yes, I knew Chris very well.
I shrugged, thinking back to our fumbling romp in the janitor’s closet at school. In Chris’s defense, it was standing room only, but our brief, messy moment was not worth remembering. “His dick is nice, but he’s got no rhythm. It was like fucking someone possessed.”
Nicole snorted, her eyes wide in shock. “You’ve slept with him?” she wheezed while looking at me. I saw the curiosity in her eyes. Our friendship was still fairly new. She didn’t know just how reckless I was, but she’d soon realize that the rumors were true.
I’d developed quite a reputation over the years. Many called me a slut, and I guess they were right. I didn’t think it was anything to be ashamed of. Those who were crueler liked to pick apart my alienation, blaming every indiscretion on my daddy issues. They just simplified deeper problems they knew nothing about. My body was a vessel for control. My heart was a rabid beast out to prove something. I cracked my soul wide open and watched as the world slipped on the oil that fell out.
“Yep,” I replied, searching the counters for more booze. I’d need more liquid forgetfulness if this conversation dug deeper into my impulsive proclivities.
“Well then, maybe we should find you a college guy, someone that knows how to use his dick. My cousin attends Denver University. He could probably get us into a party.”
I smiled at her determination but had zero desire to go. I had this odd contradiction warring within my soul. I hated being alone as much as I hated being around people. Parties weren’t really my thing. Crowds made me anxious. But I was doing the whole teenage thing, drinking cheap tequila and laughing at all the right times.