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Sex was my main go-to since I’d lost my virginity a few years back. I’d had quite the reputation around my part of town. It wasn’t some secret that I tried to keep. A lot had known me by many names. Some called me a manwhore, others called me Daddy, but most women called me Dick.
Like birthday girl.
Fucking birthday girl.
What was that about?
Last night didn’t go as planned. Well, it did…until it didn’t.
My mind kept thinking about the night at the frat house and the quirky and weird woman. Something about her unsettled me. She looked at me as if she could see the real me. The me that most people overlooked outside of my small core friend group. That bothered me a lot. Or it intrigued me—one of the two.
Plus, the sex…
That was one of the most enjoyable nights of my life, and I didn’t even know her name. I’d slept with my fair share of people, but nobody made me feel like that woman did, and she hadn’t even gone down on me.
She was chaotic, too, which was oddly amusing. I didn’t feel that often, either—amused. Since we’d hooked up yesterday, she’d crossed my mind more than I would’ve appreciated. Usually after my hookups, the women never crossed my mind again. I’d never hooked up with the same girl twice. It left little room for emotions to get involved. But for some reason, I missed her taste on my tongue. The night we shared was almost too much for me.
The moment I left that bedroom, I hightailed it out of there. I couldn’t explain what I’d felt. It was as if my world was knocked off-kilter. I felt like an ass as I tossed on my clothes and made a beeline for the exit, but I couldn’t stay in there with her. Something about her eyes made me want to be real, and I didn’t want that. I felt the unease of her soft stare building a panic in my chest because she felt so different from all the women before her. Most of them made me forget about life. She made me wonder.
Based on how I was reacting, she probably thought I was an asshole, yet she had no clue that my body was shutting down. My hands grew sweaty as she sat in that bed, looking my way. My eyes glassed over as a feeling of panic overwhelmed me. I’ve had many panic attacks over the past three years, but never after sex. Sex was the thing that tamed my anxiety, not reinforced it.
The panic attacks typically only presented themselves when I’d think about my mom too much. And trust me, when I was in that room, I was not thinking about Mother dearest. I had no damn idea why that woman pulled that level of unease out of me. I hoped we’d never cross paths again for my well-being. But still, I couldn’t stop thinking about the sex. It was so good that I didn’t feel like hooking up with another girl that evening.
Therefore, I had to go to the second thing that helped me when my mind was too loud and the silence was too much—my friends.
It was no secret that I’d been a shitty friend over the past few years, but they still let me hang around them. I guessed those were the people who mattered the most—the ones who saw you at your worst and still wanted to have you around.
Most of my friend group kicked it at Savannah’s place on weekends. Savannah was my oldest friend. We’d known each other since before we could say our first words. Our moms were close friends. Savannah always acted like my big sister even though she was only a few months older than me. Her instinct was to be motherly with our whole friend group and me.
Her parents were well-off and lived in an upscale neighborhood. You couldn’t drive down the block without seeing a luxury car parked in every driveway. That weekend, her parents were out of town, so she had everyone over to drink and smoke a bit, which seemed to be what I needed.
Our main friend group was small at six, but we had strong personalities. We’d all met in elementary school, outside of the new guy, Tom.
First, there was Brian, the gamer. He always talked about what games were coming out and the hottest stuff on the market. I did not doubt he’d someday be the multimillionaire owner of a video game company. His knowledge was remarkable. He was also a year older than me and attended UW-Milwaukee for college. He was why I ended up at a damn frat party the night before.
Then there was Chris. He was pretty shy. Savannah and I met him in the third grade when two kids were bullying him on the playground. Savannah gave the two guys a black eye and told Chris to stick around us. He never left after that.
