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Not that last night resulted in a drunken peep show, but I’m pretty damn sure I was one Solo cup away from living out some stripper fantasies. Again.
Now here I am, forced to function when the light feels like it has a personal vendetta against me.
It doesn’t help that I don’t care much for school. Ben would say that it has to do with the fact that I can’t make up my mind on what I want to major in, but I’m not so sure. I mean, I know that is a big part, sure, but I can’t help but feel like everything is pointless. Like in five years from now, I won’t be using anything I’ve studied.
“So how is your head?” Ben asks, tossing a french fry at my lap from across the table. It’s only mid-day and I’m ready to curl back under my bed covers for the week. My head feels like a balloon and it won’t stop throbbing, and I’m pretty sure the muscles in my legs have seized up . The previous night is a blur. I remember the game. I remember dropping a Molly in the bathroom after Trevor and I had a massive fight.
“That guy you were making out with was hot!” Letty sucks ketchup off her finger. She can’t hide the smirk if she tried, which she doesn’t.
And I remember him.
“He was…” My tongue glides over my teeth when I think about how his felt inside my mouth. With an impulsive decision to piss off Trevor, I grabbed the poor dude for a quick tongue fuck. He was—blue eyes flash in front of me, a single touch against my cheek, the way his mouth curved up in a smirk—Jesus. “Yes. Very hot.”
Ben chuckles at me from across the table. I know that later on, it’s going to call for one thousand questions like always. For a straight guy, he sure as fuck is always interested in the dick I’m sucking. “You and I both know that you should have just walked away from Trevor. You can’t fix that man.”
Guilt wriggles its ugly claws inside of me and he knows he’s hit a nerve. It’s not that I try, or even want, to fix Trevor. It’s that I still feel like I owe him. Ben calls it a trauma bond. I hate the word bond and don’t think Trevor deserves it.
I have no fucking idea why I feel that way. It’s not like I’m the one who cheated, but maybe it has something to do with the fact that I was purely with him out of boredom and my healthy, sadly insatiable appetite for solid playtime.
Trevor , unfortunately, wasn’t what I would call a prime dick option; in fact, I was left to the good graces of my trusting fingers more often than not, but he was fun when he wasn’t a complete fucking annoyance, and he was always down for a quickie in the hidden corners of campus.
Huh, maybe that’s why I can’t get rid of the fucker. He’s pussy-whipped, and when a man gets to that point? It takes some serious measures to cut the cord.
I pout, feeling bad for myself and the fact that my sexual needs match that of a man. We really need to cut the stigma somewhere, because fuck all that. Girls need this shit just as much.
I mean…right?
Bet Mr. I Like to Stare in the Eyes of One While Getting my Dick Sucked by Another would agree.
Wait. That was the Molly talking.
“What’s with the sour face, baby girl?”
Shaking my head, I rub circles along my temple before looking to Ben, and then the clock that glares at me from above him.
A laugh pushes past his lips and he drags himself to his feet, offering me a hand, so I let him haul my ass up with a very obnoxious whine. “But, Daddy, do I have to?” I stick my bottom lip out.
Ben simply rolls his eyes, throwing his arm around my shoulder and lifting the tray of half-eaten food with the other hand. “Yes, you have to attend the classes that you’re required to pass in order to keep your scholarship and keep being my favorite roommate ever.” Letty ignores us both as she rushes off to her next class.
He steers us toward the garbage and then out the double doors of the cafeteria, pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head as he releases me.
“Is this the part where you leave me, and I wait until you’re gone before sneaking back to the dorm and sleeping the rest of the month away?”
He lifts a brow at me, and I flick my gaze to the sky, instantly regretting it as the pounding in my head comes back with a vengeance.
“Did you take more Ibuprofen like I told you to?” he asks, adjusting his backpack on his shoulders.
