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Why can’t I just be disgusted and not turned on? Would I be turned on if it were anyone else?
The whole situation pisses me off. I wish I weren’t attracted to him in any way. .
How the hell am I going to go on this “fake” date with him and not blush every time he winks or flirts? He better not bring up tonight’s events and make comments. Who am I kidding? We all know he will.
Why didn’t he just ask miss dick sucker back there to go with him? Oh wait, he needs a nice, proper girl to go with. A good girl basically.
Maybe I should rebel and be bad. Maybe then he’ll take his invite back. I chuckle to myself but I know I won’t back out. I’d be crazy to pass on the free stuff he promised.
And there’s a part of me that wants to go. The stupid dumbass part that has a crush. I’ll deny it to anyone who asks, hell I tell myself I don’t want to go, I don’t like him, I don’t want to spend any time with him, but really, who the fuck am I trying to kid?
Who knew one fake date could stir up so much crap inside me?
My legs tire of walking so I stop and walk up the beach, taking a seat in the sand. I bend my knees and wrap my arms around my legs, resting my chin on top. I stare at the ocean like it has all the answers.
Less than two days ago, none of this was going on. Life is so damn unexpected.
I knew I should’ve stayed in. Maia ended up with Alex anyway. But at least it’s still early and there’s plenty of time left for pjs and maybe a movie or two.
Tomorrow is free of plans and I intend to spend it in bed, reading and studying.
When I finally muster up the energy, I start the walk back towards my apartment. I stay on the beach for as long as I can before I need to hit the street. I brush my feet off, slip my shoes back on, and walk the few blocks back home.
After I shower, I slip on a pair of clean pj pants and an oversized t-shirt with the logo of my favorite true crime podcast on it. Fluffy socks, a messy bun, and I slide under my covers and sink into my pillows.
I plug my phone into the charger on my nightstand and pick up my laptop, opening it and navigating to Netflix.
As usual, I choose a true crime doc to watch while playing a word puzzle game on my phone. But before I start my game, I text Maia that I’m home. When I close the message app, a new one pops up from a contact I have in my phone as L.
I’ve never gotten a text from L before. But if the contact is in my phone then I must know who it is, right?
Wait! Is it Landon?
No, I doubt it.
I click on the message.
L: u get home ok? i kno what u saw 2nite left u a little worked up…
Okay, that’s definitely him.
I reread the message a few times to make sure I read it right. Since when does he send me a text asking if I made it home okay?
I decide to ignore it and open my word app. But another text pops up.
L: just makin sure ur safe…r u one of those girls who likes a drink after they get off?
What nerve! Does he seriously think I got off from watching his man whore activities?
L: or maybe u just loved my amazing drink? i don’t think ive ever seen u chug two drinks b4
He’s so annoying. I’ll never admit his drink was good. He doesn’t need any more compliments filling his big head.
L: did u need a refresher after getting all hot and bothered?
I can’t take it anymore. Who does he think he is?
Me: u know what? i can buy myself a new dress, or anything else i need. good luck finding a new date.
