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It didn’t work then—not really—and it doesn’t work now. How can it, when the problem isn’t just facing Ash, isn’t just looking him in the eye when all I really want to do is lick him all over? I mean, another girl would either try to make him like her or just move on to another guy that does like her. But I can’t do that. I mean, how can I expect Ash—or anyone, really—to like me, when I don’t like myself? When I don’t know myself? Because I don’t. I really don’t. I’ve spent so much of my life fighting to keep my life that I never learned how to live it. Not really. Not beyond the basics.
I don’t have a favorite style or a favorite subject, don’t have a favorite color or even a favorite food (I’m still just grateful that most of the time what I eat stays down instead of coming back up these days). I mean, I guess I like red and purple more than the other colors, but it always seemed silly to worry about something like that when my white blood cell count was so much more important. Plus, when I was sick, if I mentioned liking something—a dress, a color, a hairstyle—I could see my mom cataloguing it away, so that just in case I died, she could bury me in it. Because that’s what I want to spend eternity in: a purple coffin and a zebra striped dress. And a Mohawk. Definitely a Mohawk.
Who doesn’t?
I’m trying to fix that now, to find out who I am. To figure out what I like and how I like it. I like Ash, but that’s not enough. Obviously. Not when the guy so obviously doesn’t feel the same way about me. I mean, it takes a lot of dislike, or disgust, for a twenty-one-year-old guy to walk away from a guaranteed orgasm. Or at least, I’ve always heard it does.
I guess
I should be grateful he is such a good guy. I mean, today could have gone so much worse if he hadn’t been so nice. So normal. I spent most of the night worrying about seeing him today, worrying about how awkward everything would be after what happened last night—him going down on me, giving me my first real orgasm with another human being, and then rejecting me when I tried to reciprocate—but it turns out it wasn’t so bad. At least not as long as I didn’t let myself think about it. About how easily, how completely amazing he made me feel when his tongue was on me. About how easily, how completely he rejected me when I tried to make him feel as good as he’d made me feel.
Ugh. Just the thought makes my cheeks burn and my brain threaten to explode. For what feels like the millionth time.
My phone beeps with a new text message, and I almost ignore it. It’s probably Luc or Cam inviting me down to the bar to have drinks with everyone. I should go—after all, it’s my job to make sure everyone has a good time and that things go smoothly on this trip—but the idea of going down there, of spending another three hours around Ash pretending that I’m totally fine, so doesn’t appeal to me.
I have to do it tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that. I know that, am prepared for it. But I just don’t think I can face him again tonight. I just can’t.
Another text message comes in, though, followed by a third one and a fourth one and I can’t resist picking up the phone and at least looking. At this point, if it is Luc or Cam, it’d be rude not to answer. I’ll just tell them I have a headache or something. And if something is wrong, I need to know about it, too.
Except, when I look, it isn’t Luc or Cam trying to get my attention. And it isn’t Timmy’s parents telling me he’s taken a turn for the worse. It’s my sister, Anna.
Hey, big sis. You there?
How’s Chile?
Have you slept with any hot Latin guys yet? Or any superhot snowboarders?
Helllloooooo? Come on, Tansy. Inquiring minds want to know.
I can’t help smiling as I type a response. Then again, Anna always makes me smile. Even at the worst times.
Chile is great. And no, I haven’t slept with anyone but myself.
:(
How’s home?
Boring. And I want details. You mean no one’s even tried to feel you up? What’s wrong with those guys? You’re on vacation with a bunch of super-hot, superfit guys. It should be all sex, all the time! Are you not giving out the right pheromones?
I don’t answer right away, because I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say here. I mean, Ash did feel me up. He also did a lot more than that. He just didn’t let me reciprocate. Or make any move today like he wanted me to reciprocate. Ever.
That’s a lot of radio silence. Squeee! What happened? I WANT DEETS! Tell me everything!
I debate for several more seconds, trying to decide just how badly I want to humiliate myself here. Then I decide, screw it. Anna’s had a ton more experience with guys than I have. Maybe she can help. I type my response fast, then hit send before I can think better of it.
If a guy goes down on you and then walks away before you can do anything for him, what does that mean?
Huh????????????
Oh, crap. It really is as bad as I thought.
Ash. He, you know, but then when I tried to do the same for him, he wouldn’t let me.
Huh????????????
You’re not helping!
Right. Sorry. The mind is boggling.
