Page 4 of Wicked

I remember just how tight she was, and I inhale, long and slow. I tell myself to calm down and exhibit control.

I’m the new me. I’m the new me. I’m the new me. No more wickedly distracting sex…

Ever again!

1

RAVEN

I am wearing the classy black leather skirt and the sexy white blouse, just like I’d seen in a Vogue magazine. I am also wearing chic black high heels, but they didn’t help.

As the moon rises in NYC, I walk home and decide no more online dates for ninety days. Also, no more obviously fake online jobs or careers.

No more near perfect but fake profiles, and no more losers with made-up hobbies.

As I walk on, I relive tonight. Enough! A soulless creep who had a fudged photo, a tricked-up profile, and imagined career, as apilot.

Right! And I’m a pop star.

After exiting the elevator, I slam the door to our old warehouse apartment. I enter the kitchen, frustrated, and grab the open bottle of wine. I walk through our cool, sometimes leaky warehouse apartment, remove my outfit, and pull on a pair of comfortable sports shorts.

As I walk along the rooftop, I adjust my black bra. It’s warm out, and the stars sit above.

Slumping next to my roommate, Parker, I sigh. Our kooky rooftop overlooks NYC, and it rocks, unlike mylove and sex life.

I pour a glass of wine, check Parker’s, and look at her. As she puts her book down, I knock my wine back like a shot. Closing my eyes, I wince and do another nasty hit.

I want to die.

I cannot keep doing this. Twenty-three and a virgin is not acceptable.

Developing late didn’t help, and neither did the braces. Being bookish and curvy didn’t help either.

I mentally recap on why I’ve never had sex. I then conclude it’s because after various bad dates in my teens, I avoided boys. Escaping into books brought me joy and safety! I basically started to date books instead. Books were stable. Books were safe, and books didn’t judge me.

A literature degree after was likely unwise. Especially at a semi fancy university, taking on more debt than several Central American nations. What the actual fuck!

I’m kind of socially awkward, but that may just be my lack of confidence.

I know I’m a slightly curvy nerd, possibly even a recluse. Maybesex is just not for me.

Even if I imagine being commanded and claimed, being taken against walls until I cannot stand or come anymore, something has to stop.

“Enough!” I huff. I side-eye Parker next to me, “I’m going to get married.”

“Fantastic!”

“To my vibrator. He will always be my lover.”

Parker leans her head on my shoulder. “Vibrators can’t command you. And they cannot get grumpy and tell you when to come.”

“I don’t care. They’re stable, and I’m going to die a virgin!” Parker puts an arm around me. “You?” I ask.

“No dates. I worked on another website.”

I remember my dead-end job and career. “It’s cool you work for yourself. I’m over the travel writing we do. I want to be a real writer.”

“So, finish writing the darned book,” Parker says, giving me the eye.

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