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I sit down a few feet away. Not sure what to tell her.
“There are so many things I’m not sure I can ever get back,” she says quietly. “I mean … I get what you’re saying. I get that life doesn’t end because of a couple grainy pictures online. But it kind of does, too, you know? Because now everything I’ve seen people say about me is in me. I have a cunt, I am a cunt, I’m dressed like a slut, I am a slut, I’m frigid, I’m a bitch, I want cum on my face—all those dirty things that never used to apply to me and now they do. They just eat away at me. So if I feel something, if I want a guy, if I get … if I get wet for a guy, if I want somebody to kiss me—it’s not the same anymore. It’s always going to be full of that stuff, either because I’m pushing all those words away or because I’m trying to figure out how to make them mine. And I hate that. ”
I wish I didn’t know what she meant, but I do. I can’t tease a woman, work for a smile, get her off with my tongue inside her, without thinking about what she wants from me. What I’m going to get for it.
That’s the thing about trading sex for favors. It makes everything feel like a transaction.
“Do you want somebody to kiss you?” I ask. “Is this all theoretical, or …”
Her arms wrap tighter around her legs. “It’s not theoretical. ”
“Scott?”
“Sure, Scott. I mean, maybe. I just met him. But what if, right? Why does it all have to be spoiled before it’s even started?”
“It’s not spoiled. ”
“It feels spoiled. ”
“That sucks. ”
“It does. ”
She traces a circle on her kneecap with her fingertip. “I only talked to him for a couple minutes. I liked him. He’s easy, you know? And Quinn got ahold of his number for me, but I just haven’t … I don’t want to think of him like that. I want all those words and body parts to have nothing to do with any of it. Except they do. ”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much inevitable if you’re gonna date the guy. ”
She looks right at me for a second, then back at the roof. “I was starting to feel almost like I could do it, earlier today. Call him up and ask him out after break. I thought … But I have to say, you kind of ruined that whole idea, so thanks. ”
There’s a smile in her voice, though. A small one, but it’s there.
“I get that I was a prick, but I don’t get what I ruined. You’re gonna have to explain that. ”
“I don’t think I can do it. Any of it. I’m going to become a nun. ”
“That would be a waste. ” Now I can see the smile, the apple of her cheek lifting, though she’s still not looking at me.
“No, I can see now it’s the only way. ”
“Sister Caroline,” I say. “Martyr of Internet Porn. ”
She lifts her head. I can’t look away from the brilliance of her teeth, her lips, because I have this sudden, awful, amazing idea, and I’m focusing all my attention on keeping it from coming out of my mouth.
I could kiss you, is what I’m trying not to say.
I could make you forget all about those fucking pictures.
I could make you feel good, wipe out all that shame, show you what’s supposed to be going through your mind when you’re with a guy.
I could. Me.
“You like him a lot,” I say instead. Because she’s already made her choice, and I’m not it. I wasn’t even an option.
“He’s fun. ”
“Fun is a little lukewarm. ”
“No, don’t. Don’t pick on him. He’s great. Or he could be great. He seems like he could. ”
