Page 64 of Raised On It

I step toward her only to be met with her palm on my chest, applying pressure to keep me back.

Away from her.

“What the hell is going on? Mason, talk to me.”

“Nothing’s going on. I’m just really tired and about to go to bed. Can we talk tomorrow?”

It’s only nine. I know we didn’t sleep much the past couple of days, but this is coming from the writer who stays up all night perfecting her craft. She’s going to bed already?I don’t think so.

“Mason, honey let me in.”

She relents, pushing the door open. She walks away toward my bag next to the coffee table. “I went ahead and packed your things up for you so you’re all set.”

“You packed my things for me? I’m all set? What the hell happened while I was at that damn wedding?”

“Miles, I’ve just had time to think, and we both know how this is going to end.”

“Do we now? Why don’t you enlighten me?”

“Listen, I’ll be gone in a few weeks, and there’s no reason to get in any deeper when we both know it is just going to end. This way nobody gets hurt.”

“Nobody gets hurt?” I don’t mean to raise my voice, but what in the fuck is she talking about?

This already hurts!

Like a son of a bitch.

“Miles, please just go.”

How does she not realize she’s ripping my heart to shreds?

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell I’m missing. What happened while I was gone?”

“I just can’t do this again, okay?”

“Do what again?”

“This! You! I won’t be that woman again. The woman who gets played. I won’t do it, Miles!” she yells.

“How am I playing you, Mason? This is bullshit! You know that, right?”

“It’s not. I saw the pictures the girls were posting today. I’ve lived this life before, and I can’t do it again.”

“What pictures?”

I have no idea what she’s talking about. Did some old sex tape I’m not aware of somehow come to light?

She picks up her phone, taps the screen a couple of times, and then hands it to me. It’s a picture of me and Scheana. We’re on the dance floor, and she’s bent over in front of me, and I’m pretending to spank her. It’s funny.

“So?”

Ripping the phone out of my hand, she finds another picture and then shoves the phone back in my face. Okay, so in this one it looks like I’m licking her face. It was gross to her, and that was comical to me.

“What? Am I not allowed to have a good time?”

Still not replying, she takes the phone again, and this time, when she finds what she’s looking for, she hits play and holds the phone up. A video of us on the dance floor plays. I’m in the center of the dance floor surrounded by my friends, I guess they do all happen to be women, and I’m doing what I do best. Being the life of the party. In the video, I dance my way around the circle of women and give them each a little twirl, some twerking for me and me acting like I like it. A couple of the older ladies get a kiss on the cheek, but it’s really just me entertaining the wedding goers and myself while I’m at it.

“I still don’t understand,” I say genuinely.