Page 43 of To Go
“It doesn’t matter!” I shout before I realize my mistake. “I mean, nothing happened. Seriously. TV, food, and hanging out at home.” Both of their faces break out in massive grins as they realize my slip up.
I am not getting out of this.I break out in a nervous sweat, furiously cursing myself for never being able to control a facial expression.
“Wait a second!” Hazel’s eyes widen with realization. “You’re not on a dating app…”
“And James would never,” Nessa picks up on her train of thought. “No offence.”
Some taken.I have no idea whatsoever what they’re getting at.
“You totally banged your uber driver!” Hazel and Nessa are both freaking out now. This is possibly the worst and best thing that could have happened for two reasons.
One, I get to have girl talk with my friends—except I have to lie about it.
Two, neither of them think it’s even a possibility that I could have slept with James, which is kind of insulting.
I literally can’t lose. But also, ouch.
“Okay, now that we’ve settled that Ireallyneed to know how big his dick was!”
“Jesus, Nessa, be less horny, would you?” Hazel says as shethwapsher with a pillow. “Stella, you are under no obligation to tell us anything about your uber driver sexcapades.”
“Agree to disagree,” Nessa retorts. “Actually though, how was it? Are you sore? Was it good? Did you pee after? That’s really important, you don’t want a UTI.”
I have no idea how to respond to the barrage of questions being hurled at me, or how to lie and make it believable.
Stick as close to the truth as possible while leaving out as much detail as possible.
“Umm… it was good?” Hazel and Nessa’s faces fall and I backtrack. “I mean, great! It was great. He umm… made sure I was good and, you know, got where I needed to go.”More than a couple of times. “And yes, yes, and yes to the aforementioned questions.” I’m staring into my tea now, refusing to look at either of them. I’m usually an open book, but in this case, the less these two know, the better it will be in the long run.
Especially if Nessa finds out.
Nope. She’s not going to find out.
“You’re no fun at this,” Nessa states while shoving almost an entire pastry in her mouth. “We wanted sordid details, and this is just the CliffsNotes.” I don’t know how she manages to talk around that much food in her mouth. I laugh at her. “Usually we can’t get you to shut up! What gives?”
“There’s not that many details to give. As far as a first time goes, I have no complaints.”
Hazel tilts her head. “Do you think you’ll hook up again?” The question is gentle.
“Nah. We agreed it would be the one time.” Five times. It was five times.
They don’t need to know that. I shift in my seat, suddenly aware of the ache that still exists between my legs.
“But you said it was great?” Hazel’s face is scrunched up in confusion. “You wouldn’t even go on a date with him?” I huff, flopping back onto the bed.
“I could, but what would be the point? You know?”
“To get to know each other? To see if you’re compatible and want to make something work between the two of you? Happily ever after and babies and houses?” I know Hazel thinks she’s being helpful, but her pressing is starting to annoy me.
“To fuck again,” Nessa points out.
“Do you know the likelihood that this guy is going to be the love of my life? I’m nineteen, the odds of it working out are so freaking low. What’s the point?”
“Honey,” Hazel puts her frigid hand on my ankle, which I know is supposed to be a comfort, but it’s so icy that it’s effortful not to pull away. “It’s not about the guarantee of it working out, it’s life experience. And you don’t need it,” she says, holding up a finger to Nessa before she can start talking about why I DO need it, “but you don’t have to deprive yourself of it either, just because it might not lead to ‘til death do us part.’”
“When my mother died, my dad disappeared into himself.” The room falls deadly silent. I’ve never shared much family information with them. With my current life, my hopes and dreams, I’m an open book. My parents are the one thing I’ve always kept to myself. “It was like he died with her. He didn’t talk for almost a month. I had to do all the cooking and cleaning, make sure bills were paid, get myself to school. It destroyed him.”
I remember screaming at him to get up, forcing him to eat, calling the doctor to come check on him when he was too weak to move. His eyes were these sunken pits, ringed purple. He lost so much weight we had to buy him new clothes, his old ones kept falling off of him. He was a shell of himself.
