around for a second. Standing among the colorful boxing bags. And I look between them while they joke about redecorating the Studio 9 gym with polka-dots and stripes.
Would I like Banks or even Akara to pull me closer? Yeah. But not just in playful jest. Not just to protect me. In actual, real want. Desire. Fucking passion.
Things I’ve only ever seen as a bystander and on TV shows like Roswell (thanks to Luna’s obsession). I don’t want to make out with an alien though.
I want to be devoured by a hot fucking man. Who I trust, who makes me feel so completely comfortable and confident even in my inexperience.
I’m picky about guys. I won’t physically let just anyone in. I crave those comfortable, trusting pieces while being mixed with the I wanna bang you attraction.
But it’s right here. They’re beyond bangable.
And I trust Banks.
I trust Akara.
They’d never take advantage of me. Never hurt me. I know they’d take care of me before, during, and afterward. They’re completely different guys, and I should be lucky that I’ve made two friends out of them, out of bodyguards.
Two friends who I’m attracted to.
“What’s that look?” Akara asks me with playfulness.
I won’t lie. “You’re both fucking hot.”
Banks smiles, one of those shadows of a smile.
Akara laughs brightly.
They know they’re hot.
I wrap an arm around a boxing bag. “I feel comfortable and safe around you two, and I figure if I never have another boyfriend in my life, I could totally see myself losing my virginity to either of you.”
Akara’s face drops.
Like plummets.
Like I took a needle and popped a fucking balloon.
Oh my fucking God.
Banks scratches the back of his head. His eyes are on Akara.
We joke all the time! This isn’t that different, right? Boobs, tits, ass, penis, cock—what’s so different about me mentioning my virginity? It’s not a joke to me, but they should at least respond like we’re friends, right? I said everything really casually, right??
RIGHT?!
I stammer, “I mean…I…um, it’d be like doing me a favor—I mean, not like that. Not a favor.” My face burns. “I’d hope you’d want it too. Don’t just sleep with me out of obligation. Fuck, what am I saying?” I’m boiling up. “It’s just…I want it to be good, and I think you’d both be really good—you’re experienced, and yeah…” I want to disappear. “It’s something…something to consider. Losing my virginity to one of you…?”
I can’t even look at them.
Silence.
All there is is utter fucking silence.
2
SULLIVAN MEADOWS
I’m suffocating beneath their lack of fucking words. It might only last a second, but my embarrassment clocks this moment at fucking eternity.
I realize now that I didn’t friend-zone them.
They’ve friend-zoned me.
I’m the un-bangable one.
And even then, maybe we’re not as friendly as I thought. Friends should be able to respond to me!
“I, um…” I can’t recover.
Abruptly, I bolt to the right.
I run through the heavy bags. They smack my cheek as I push through.
“Sulli!” Akara shouts.
“Wait!” Banks calls. “Wait!”
I can feel them behind me, but I’m faster.
I’m always faster.
Shoving a few more, I come clear to a door marked 3. There are three fucking doors. Of course there are. I choose the one in front of me, and I dart inside…
“No,” I mutter.
Mirrors.
Dozens upon dozens of mirrors.
I’m surrounded by my horror-stricken, wide-eyed face. Everywhere, my reflection stares back at me, some misshapen and distorted by the curved and bent glass. My breathing is rapid, but not from exhaustion.
I sprint to the left, meet a wall, then to the right. Meet another dead-end.
Let me fucking out of here!
I rest my hands on my forehead.
Concentrate, Sulli.
I touch my lips. Thinking.
“Sulli!”
I hear them call my name, but they sound distant. They must’ve chosen a different door. After I collect my shit, I see a sign that says, no running.
Hilarious.
And then I spot another door, hidden behind a mirror that warps my face, so my panicked eyes look humongous.
Racing out of the door, I crawl through a yellow rotating barrel, then thrust open an exit door to the outside. Inhaling a lungful of crisp night air, I move forward. The carnival is still in full swing like I never left. I skip down metal stairs without slowing.
“Sulli!” Jane calls.
I turn my head and see Jane waving her hands. Without thinking, I sprint towards her. She’s like my big sister, so instinct says, go to Jane.
But she’s not alone.
Outside the funhouse, a larger group of mostly bodyguards surround her and Charlie on a patch of grass.
Keep running.
Keep going.
I grab onto Jane’s arm, not wanting