There are a lot of things I don't understand about life. I mean, yeah, sure, the big things of course – like how the universe was formed, is there a god, is there life after death and what the meaning of life is– but that's not what I mean. We're all supposed to wonder things. The meaning of life is almost to constantly wonder what the meaning of life is and try to figure it out. Once, you think you've figured it out – well, that's your meaning of your life. The big things I'm not concerned about, though. I figure, if we were supposed to know, then we would, wouldn't we? I'm worried about the little things. Things like why my parents would go off and leave on a trip to Europe and me alone in the house with my older brother. Or why my brother's off every night fucking a different girl, but I know he's not the dick you would think he was. Or why my best friend, Cara, is in absolutely in love with her fiancé, who she met on line and just so happens to live in England and hasn't seen for four months, and has never cheated on him. I guess it's not things that confuse me. It's people. They're unpredictable. Someone can act one way one day, and completely different another. You never know what someone's going to do and you never know what's going on in someone's brain. To think of it, I don't know what I'm going to do one day to the next and I don't even know what's going on in my brain. My actions are unpredictable, even to me. Actions, like how I lost my virginity last night to a boy I have never met before.
Okay, so before you start calling me a slut and whore for what I did. You have to hear my side of the story. It wasn't exactly the cliché, "I got drunk at a party and I met a guy, he called me 'the most beautiful babe in the room' and I kissed him, thought I was in love and then he took my virginity and peace'd out," thing. I had actually known this boy for over a yearbefore I met him. His name's Eddie, by the way. I met Eddie on Facebook of the end of my 8th grade year, right after I had gone through a phase where I thought that sucking everybody's dick in the grade made me "cool." It was a bad year. The first time I ever saw a dick, touched a dick, and sucked a dick was in that school actually. Immaculate Conception. I actually got suspended for sucking my first dick in the boy's locker room during class. Catholic school really fucks with your head, you know?
But anyway, I met Eddie online. He went to the public school in the area so he wasn't a complete stranger. He actually went to my school for one year while I was in 7th grade and he was in 8th. He's really supposed to be two years ahead of me, but he got held back. I remember I saw him at the mall, when I didn't even know who he was. I remember she whispered in my ear, "That's Eddie Small!"
Not knowing who he was, I said, "Who?"
"The guy that went to our school, remember? He went out Mary McCarthy. I heard they had sex and he video taped it without her knowing and sent it to her boyfriend that she went out with after they broke up. He's so hot!"
"That's such a dick move."
"Who cares? He's so sexy."
"Who cares? He's probably a huge asshole."
I never thought he would actually talk to me. It's not that I thought so highly of him. I just thought that he probably saw me in Immaculate and wasn't interested. It so happens that I later found out that he had never even seen me in that school and never even heard of me. Actually, his friend that was on the same bus as me, described me as, "The quiet girl on the bus that never talks." I don't even consider myself quiet, I guess I just don't talk on buses that much. The people on your bus are never people you actually want to talk to.
After Eddie messaged me and sent me is number on Facebook we started texting. We always made plans to hang out, but it just never happened. Either I backed out because I was scared or didn't feel like it, or he backed out because of god knows why. We texted for weeks at a time and then suddenly stop. I would get a boyfriend and I would stop texting him and then we would break up and I would start texting Eddie again. The thing was, Eddie never wondered why we talked at random times and he never got mad when we didn't talk for 2 or 3 months and he was always happy when I sent him that, "long time no talk," text. I went through two boyfriends, before Eddie ever called me. I remember, I had just came home from the annual fair at my school with my friends. I could barely move that night; my stomach hurt so much. I had just recently become a vegetarian and my parents said that maybe it was malnutrition that was making me suffer. I remember telling Eddie that, too. He said he didn't know what malnutrition meant. Stupid boys are cute sometimes, so I smiled and laughed and sent a text back: "Call me and I'll explain it." I didn't even think about how awkward it would be or how awkward I would be. I didn't even care. Thinking back on it, I'm honestly so proud I had the courage to say that.
He called me and we talked for hours. I think that night we talked until 4 in the morning until he fell asleep on me. He was always the one falling asleep or hanging up on me. I've never hung up on him once in my entire life. He was the honestly person, I could ever talk and fell like I could be completely myself. I could say whatever I wanted to, and he wouldn't be mean about it and he wouldn't judge me. I remember one night we stayed up until probably 4 in the morning pouring out all our secrets to each other. Not every secret. Shit, I didn't even know the guy in real life. I didn't tell him everything, but I told him some things. I'm sure he didn't tell me everything either. I didn't expect him to. I trust him though, I really do. We said, "I love you" all the time. I thought we really did love each other. Even though, we had ever met, I thought I loved him. I broke up with my boyfriend once for him and I still never met him. It was so strange. Everything was so incredibly strange the summer going into high school.
Now, I'm going to be a sophomore in high school and the boy I thought I loved just fucked me. I don't think I love him anymore. I don't even like him. I don't even want to be with him. I want to be friends with him, though. Well, not just friends because last night was a pretty good time, but I don't want a relationship. But I know that boy doesn't either. Eddie was a player. He was always fucking someone new. He always had a girl with him and on him. Always. That boy was always riding solo, but there was always someone riding him. I didn't care, though. Honestly, I knew from the beginning about that. I actually never got evidence, but I've heard stories and all of them can't be wrong. I never really, thought much about it, though. Well, I used to more when I said I love you, but I don't know. It isn't much of my business; it still isn't.
Since my parents are gone basically the entire summer in Europe and my brother it out every night and barely never comes home, I have an open house and it's all to myself. Every day's a party, here. The usual crew is Cara, Ashley, Stephanie, Anthony, David, and Steven and they slept over every night – last night, especially, because we decided to have a huge party. When we have parties, we go hard. Every kind of alcohol you could ever image was coming in by the dozens. We didn't even know who supplied half of it. People just kept bringing it in, and it's not like we were complaining. After the alcohol that you had to have for any party, came the drugs. Marijuana was always the main one. If you were going to one of my parties, then weed was always a must. Anything like heroin, cocaine, meth, or acid I did not want in my house. I never do. It's not that I have a problem with it; it's just that let's say the cops come and then find lines of cocaine and heroin needles everywhere in my house. Those junkies are going to run, and I'm going to take the blame. I've never tried anything besides weed in my entire life and I'm not going it. Drugs scare me; even alcohol scares me sometimes.
Cara was always the one to stay sober. She never smoked and she never drank. She's never tried it and never plans to. She's never even tried a cigarette. She never flaunted it, though. I hated people like that. I absolutely hated people that flaunted and bragged about anything, but especially not smoking or drinking. Most of the time, the people that brag about it are scared shitless and don't even know what the fuck they're talking about. They have this idea that we're so white trash for doing it, and they're so classy for not. But you know what? Class isn't about what you do; it's about how you act. So they can shut the fuck up and shit they don't know.
Cara is never like that, though. Cara is one of the sweetest, nicest, and most genuine girls I've ever met and I've never have I my entire life seen her mad. She's a true sweetheart. That boy of hers, who lives in England, Rodney or whatever, is probably one of the luckiest boys in the entire world to have her. They got engaged last April when she turned 18. That was the last time they saw each other. It must be horrible, being away from the one you love for so long. If he ever cheated on her, I swear to God I would have my parents pay for a ticket to England and hunt him down and beat the fucking living shit out of him. Cara would never deserve that.
Ashley was the drinker. She could down 15 shots faster then I have anyone in my entire life. She could go play beer pong for hours while out quitting and she would win most of the time, too. That girl knew how to drink. I could never do that like she could. I can do about five or six beers and then I'm good. I'm not exactly falling over drunk by then, but I'm as drunk as I ever want to be.
Steph was my girl when it came to smoking. She smoked a pack a day just like me. If I wanted to blaze up good, I would go to Steph straight away. She had this great hookah, too. She kept it over my house, because everyone was always there and so was she so she just decided to leave it there one day. We loved smoking. We thought it was the most beautiful thing. We would get high and discuss the physics of smoke and the swirls that flew up quickly out of our cigarettes like it was being carried on an invisible butterfly up to the heavens. We love it. It was our passion. There was never a time where we didn't want smoke in our lungs. We conversed over smoking, but really, we had nothing else in common. It's not that I don't think we wouldn't have been friends if it weren't for smoking; it's that I don't think it would've been so easy to become friends if it weren't for smoking.
Anthony was my ex-boyfriend, but things weren't that serious. We went out for a day. Actually, he was the boyfriend I broke up with for Eddie. He doesn't know that, though. Anthony has always and will always be hopelessly in love with me. But he hides it, not very well, though. He gets so much hate for it. He tries to hug me and be all over me all the time. It's cute sometimes, but mostly it's just fucking annoying. I do love him, though. He's like the lost puppy that you can't help but feel sorry for. A lost puppy that knows where he wants to go, but doesn't realize that he won't ever get there. I had one boyfriend, that was incredibly jealous, and every time we all hung out together, he would get so incredibly mad because Anthony was always trying to hug me and touch me and be around me. I fucking broke up with that loser, the next week anyway. Clingy and jealous. Not my type.
David was the cutest boy out of the three. He was handsome, charming, and was great to have a conversation with. We loved all the same books and our favorite was "Catcher in the Rye." We constantly related to it. I could call him up in the middle of the night and he'd be up, reading or writing or studying, and I'd just start talking about Catcher in the Rye or some other book and he would continue the conversation. He loved great music, too. We had everything like that in common. We loved bands like, the Arctic Monkeys, Sublime, The Red Hot Chili Peppers, Bright Eyes, and so many more. He was truly a great friend. I really did honor him in my life.
Last, but not least, was Steven. Steven was a real interesting kid. He worshiped Kurt Cobain and listened to Nirvana any chance he got. He was convinced that he was going to shoot himself at 27 just like Kurt. Steven's convinced he's Kurt Cobain reincarnated. They were even born on the same day – February 20th. He plans to kill himself on April 5th and everything. Every time he mentions it, we always ask him questions like, "where are you getting a gun from?" or "Didn't Kurt Cobain kill himself while he was high on heroin? Are you going to do that too?" We knew obviously, that he wasn't. He hated needles more then anything in the entire world. The last thing that kid was going to do was shoot up heroin. He doesn't need heroin, anyway. He's crazy enough as it is.
While the party was going on full swing, Steph, David, Anthony, and I were all sitting in my room. During parties my room was on lock down. No one could get in unless someone let you in or unless you had a key, and I was the only one with a key. Party's can get crazy sometimes and I'm never in the mood for someone to trash my room or to walk in and find someone fucking on my bed. My room was my own little sanctuary and I didn't like people invading it. Posters of my favorite bands covered the walls and ceiling. There were was a bed, next to them were two big couches across from each other then a TV that could be seen from any angle and behind that was a desk. Writing from all my friends and boyfriend's over the years engulfed everything. The couches were destroyed – one was almost broken in half and the other was taped together. The desk was destroyed too. Duct tape and Sharpies devoured it. I loved it. I loved every single bit of shitty looking thing in that room.
I sat on my bed and leaned against the wall with a cigarette in my hand and an ashtray in my lap. Anthony was sitting next to me with his arm around me, trying to cuddle almost. I didn't mind, though. I was feeling relaxed and kind of in the mood to just cuddle. I wasn't really in the mood for a party. I didn't mind it or anything, it's just that I didn't feel like going wild and when I'm at a party I want to go wild. I took another sip of my beer and inched closer to Anthony. The great thing about knowing that someone likes you is that you can do practically whatever with them and you know they'll be okay with it.
"So what're we doin' guys? Are we smokin' or what?" Steph said in the middle of her conversation with David. She always needed weed. Always.
I smiled at her. I knew exactly how she felt. I was in the mood to get high and when you're in the mood it's the greatest feeling on earth. I took another hit of my cigarette, put it out on the ashtray, and put the ashtray on Anthony's lap. He was always there to be like my little dog. I know that's kind of a dick thing to say. I probably do take advantage of him sometimes. I shouldn't, but when someone gives you the power to do whatever you want with you, you get sort of… lost in it. Power hungry.
I got up out of Anthony's grip and opened my desk drawer. There it was – my bag of marijuana. Imagine an entire jumbo Ziplock bag filled with weed. Now, you just imagined my weed stash. I bought it for the summer for about $500. I haven't even used that much of it yet and June's almost half way through.
"What do you guys wanna smoke out of?" I asked.
"Gimme a Dutch and I'll roll that shit!" Steph said.
I opened another draw below my weed drawer and pulled out a Dutch cigar. I threw it at her and took out a little baggy that usually holds $20 dollars worth of bud and packed it to the top. I gave it to David because Steph was in the middle of basically giving the cigar head to get the leaf off that they wrap cigars in. I love rolling, but tonight I just wasn't feeling it. If I was going to have to wait for Steph to finish, then I'd probably just go out into the party and get a beer. I pulled another cigarette out from the pack in my room lit it and then went out to find a beer.
I wondered who was running the stereo because whoever it was had some good fucking taste in music. They were playing, "Suck My Kiss," by The Red Hot Chili Peppers. I loved them.
I walked down the steps and until the kitchen. I checked all the bottles on the table and all of them were empty. I figured there'd be more down stairs, since that's where they were in the first place. I went down the steps to the basement and bottle of beer. I asked for bottle particularly. I hate cans, the take of aluminum and beer tastes horrible and plus, it's more fun to chug anything out of a bottle then it is out of a can. I took a big sip of my beer and another huge hit of my cigarette and decided to walk around the basement to see if anyone I knew was there.
Beer pong was always in the back; I guess it was kind of a tradition at my house. I knew Ashley would be playing and Cara and Steven were probably right around to keep her in line. They didn't really enjoy parties, especially Cara so she usually sat and watched Ashley and observed people and sometimes talked to Steven. Steven was weird and everything, but he wasn't the annoying kind of weird or the fucked up kind. He was interesting, and on certain occasions, a true joy to talk to.
A group of cheering teenagers wrapped around the table, but behind the group of people stood Cara, but Steven wasn't with her. She was standing all alone. Poor Cara, she hated it be alone.
"Cara," I said and tapped her on the shoulder. Her head jolted toward me. "Yo, you okay? Where's Steven?"
"Ryan, guess who's here!"
"I don't know for sure, but I think Eddie's here…"
When she told me that I honestly didn't know what to say. Cara was the only person I told about Eddie. Cara and I have some really deep heart-to-hearts sometimes. It's strange because I don't really talk to Cara often, because she generally a quiet person and I'm very loud and hyper when I'm around people, but I'm probably the closest to her out of all my friends. She knows me the best and I think I knew her the best.
I was sure not to talk to Eddie about anyone, except Cara, because one, I trusted her, and two, because what if Eddie was fucking some other girl or had a "girlfriend" (I use that term loosely, because Eddie does too) and I was talking about him and they happened to hear about me and him and go crazy. I wasn't trying to start drama and I still am not now.
"Are you sure?" I asked. Maybe she didn't see him right.
"I'm pretty sure. And I eavesdropped on their conversation a little bit, too. And heard someone say the name 'Eddie'."
"Shit, what should I do? Where is he? Should I go find him?" I was freaking out. I don't even know why.
"I think he's still by the couch over there, by the TV." She pointed to the other side of the basement. "I think you should go over and talk to him."
It didn't matter at this point what anybody thought I should do. I had the chance the meet the boy I wanted so badly. It's crazy, when you think about it. When you want someone the most you don't have them, but when you don't want them anymore, they're right there, at the other side of your basement.
"Thanks. Do you have another cig?" I asked her. I knew she didn't smoke, but she was probably holding Ashley's pack.
"Uh, yeah. Ashley's," she said it like I wasn't allowed to have one.
"I give that bitch bogies all the time, and if she's fucking sober enough to realize it in the morning that one of her cigarettes is missing, I'll give her one." I really needed a fucking cig. My stomach was churning. I fucking hate butterflies in your stomach.
She pulled out a cigarette and gave it to me. I thanked her, lit it, and started to walk over. I kept thinking about what I would do if he were there. Would I kiss him? Would I hug him? Would we just look at each other? Would he jut give me an awkward "hi"? He wouldn't do that, though. He's not even one bit awkward, ever.
There he was. Eddie Small. He was in my house this whole time and I didn't even know it. I stood there for a second, smoking my cigarette, and saw if he would notice me or not. It wasn't that loud in here, so I decided to call out his name.
"Eddie! Eddie Small!" I didn't mind because it didn't look like he was with anyone. He was just sitting there watching Adult Swim on Cartoon Network and having a bottle of beer.
I yelled his name out again.
Finally, he looked over to me. At first, I don't think he recognized me. We hadn't talked in almost 6 months. He smiled after a while, though, and got up and walked over to me.
"Ryan Berry," he said with a big smile on his face.
"Hi, baby," I said and gave him a big hug. Beer makes me so loving. He snuck in a kiss on my cheek before letting go of the embrace.
"How are ya, babe?"
"I'm great, how about you?"
We talked for a little, catching up on things. Not really saying much, just kind of both in shock that we're finally hanging out. Finally, I checked what time it was. It was almost midnight. I had been down here for a half an hour. They were probably done rolling right now.
"Hey, Eddie?" I said and took a hold of his hand.
"You wanna smoke some tree with me right now?"
He followed me up the stairs and into my room. I told him to lock the door behind me. We were still holding hands went we came upstairs. I dragged him over to my bed and well down on it. The minute we got on, Anthony got off. Anthony's pretty jealous too. He went and sat in the broken couch. Whatever.
"Where's the blunt?" I asked.
"Right here." Steph got up from the couch and handed it to me.
Eddie and I were pretty comfortable on that bed, not gonna lie. We were leaning against the wall with his arm around me. My legs were on top of his and he had his other hand on my knee, caressing it and running his fingers around it.
"Ready?" I said to him smiling, with a blunt in one hand and a lighter in the other.
He leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Come on, babe. Let's go."
"Don't fucking rush me." He laughed and kissed me on the cheek. He knew, I was joking. Eddie could always take a joke. Even after all this time, he knew me.
I didn't say anything else after that, I just put the roach in between my lips and lit it. I felt the smoke swirl into my mouth and lungs. I took a huge hit. I usually don't like too but Eddie and Steph were smoking it too. Anthony and David would probably ask for a couple hit, too. I didn't mind sharing – I had more then enough weed to go around. I was just going to take the biggest hits, so get the best of it.
We did a two hit pass around the room until the roach was down to its last couple hits. When it came around to Steph she asked if she what we wanted to do with it. We could put it in a nader, which was a water bottle that you smoke out of, or we could put it in the homemade gravity bong that I made.
"You can do whatever you want with it, I'm good right now," I said and looked back to Eddie. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Steph get up and open my closet to get the grav. She packed it, lit it, and hit it. Steph could go all night. I did sometimes, too, but right now I was with Eddie and I didn't really want to. The thing is, I don't like getting fucked up with I'm with a boy, unless I'm not having a good time. I was, though. I was having an amazing time. I don't need weed to make me happy, when I have a boy that can do it ten times better. So I stopped smoking for the rest of the night.
As the night went on, Eddie and I talked. We got closer and closer as well. Soon, I was on his lap, straddling him, and his around were around my waist, and sometimes snuck down to grab a little of my ass. It wasn't really a sexual thing, though. It was more of a friend with benefits, playing around thing. I took another cigarette out of my pack and lit it up.
"Never knew you smoked so much," he said while I was smoking.
I took a big hit and blew smoke all in his face. "Well now you do."
I looked over at the rest of the room. The great thing about my friends is that they didn't stare when I was trying to get with a guy. It wasn't exactly like I needed to try with Eddie. I knew it was going to happen and it didn't really bother me. He was cute, funny, and made me smile. What more could you need from a one-night stand?
Steph and David were in some sort of conversation about Hitler and how he died. When Steph's high she things that she's always right and that wouldn't really be much of a problem if she was actually right. The problem there was that she always had the craziest ideas. She loved conspiracy theories and she loved fighting with people who believed in the facts – and that was David, definitely. I didn't even bother listening. David would let her win, because he didn't really give a fuck. He knew he was right, and that was all the proof he needed, that's one thing I actually loved about David. He knew when something was futile and he knew went to step away. He was always so confident, but not in a bad way. In a way that he knew that none of this really matter. What would he have proven by proving Steph right? Nothing. So he convinced one, high off her ass, crazy girl that Hitler actually did kill himself. What does that prove? What is that solving? I could almost hear his calm, serene voice in my head.
Anthony, on the other hand, just sat there and watched TV. He didn't look over here, not even once, for fear of seeing me and Eddie making out. I stared at him for a long time, wondering if he'd ever look back at me. Sometimes, when you stare at a person, they can feel your eyes on them and they look over. Anthony didn't, though. Maybe he felt my eyes on him and hated it, because the next thing I knew he was walking out of my room. He slammed the door, and that was the last I saw of him all night.
Eddie asked, "What's his problem?"
"He's in love with me," I said and took another hit of my cigarette, still staring at the door. It kind of made me sad that he left. I really did like having him in my company; I guess I didn't really deserve it because I was preoccupied with Eddie and everything. I still wanted him there, though. I loved him. He was like a little brother to me. I knew he was upset, but he wouldn't tell me about it. If I asked him tomorrow, he would say that he left the room for a beer or a cigarette (even though he rarely smokes) or that he thought someone had said that an old friend was there and he had gone to catch up with them. He would probably sit alone all night, watching other couple's make out, be sad, and get drunk, or he would go find Cara and talk to her. I hope he talked to Cara; she must be alone right now and hating it. Shit, I should've invited her upstairs. I completely forgot when I heard that Eddie was here. Whatever, she'll be fine.
I turned back to Eddie and close my eyes. When I'm high all I want to do is close my eyes. Not sleep, just sit there in the darkness, because the darkness moves. It feels like the intro to Star Wars, like when the stars come at you faster and faster. That's what it felt like. Sometimes, I completely despised the feeling and sometimes I basked in it. I loved it tonight. It was entrancing. It was like one I closed my eyes, I couldn't open them. It felt like cinder blocks were holding my eyelids shut.
"Baby, you ok? Open you eyes."
"No, I don't want to." I could feel him getting closer.
"Please?" A cloud of hot breath warmed my face. I could feel his fingers running up and down my spine. I feel him drawing circles on my back with his fingertips. It was soothing. I reached out and touched his cheek. I could feel the little prickly hairs coming out on his cheeks. I slid my hand down his neck and felt his dark chocolate hair through my fingers.
I shook my head lightly. I was ready for him to say something, but before he did, I said quickly, "Only if you kiss me."
He brought his lips close to mine and said, "Deal." I smiled through the kiss. He moved his hands to the back of my neck and pulled me closer. We kissed and then pulled away.
"Now open your eyes, baby."
I did, too. As I opened my eyes, right in front of me was Eddie. His face was soft and delicate. His skin was perfect. He was tan, practically black compared to my white skin. His blue eyes with a tint of gray were staring straight at me. He wasn't smiling, but you could tell that there was happiness in his eyes. I moved my fingers through his hair a couple times. I grazed my fingers over his face, feeling his features under my fingertips.
"Hi baby," I said in a low horse voice.
He kissed me again quickly and unexpectedly and then said, "Hey." He was smiling then, for sure.
The rest of the night was history. We kissed and talked and made out and talked some more. Smoked some more cigarettes, drank some more beer, and smiled. And towards the end of the night, things just got a little carried away and we ended up fucking. Now, don't think that because I was high and because I had a beer, that my judgment was too impaired and that's the only reason I made the decision to fuck him. Not true. I want to. I wanted to more then anything. For one, I hated being a virgin more then anything. I know I was only 14 but I hated it. It's a horrible feeling. Me having sex one time is not going to "scar" me forever. It's the morning, and I still feel the same way about as I did last night.
Actually, I feel better. You can call me a slut and you can call me a whore, but those names mean nothing to me. When I went through that phase when I sucked almost every boy's dick in 8th grade, everyone called me a slut. The weird thing was, I didn't even understand it. I guess you're supposed to do things sexually with someone you love and someone you're married to or whatever. First off, I don't use my sexuality to get closer to someone; I use it to feel good. When you're getting fingered or when you're sucking a dick or especially when you're getting fucked, it feels great. You're confidence level is so boosted up it's unimaginable. You feel all your shyness and your awkwardness leave your body instantly. You feel like you can walk down a fucking runway naked and be beautiful and sexy.
I used to think that slut was such an offence word. If anyone ever said it around me or to me I would flip the fuck out. I never wanted to be perceived as that. That was before I realized that I shouldn't give a fuck. It's people's thoughts and ideals that try to create boundaries for you. That's what religion is – boundaries for you to live by. I'm not saying they're always bad, I'm just saying that they're not yours. It's other people trying to tell you what to do and what to be and how to act, when really you should decide that on your own.
I do have boundaries, though. You never do anything with your friend's boys. That's fucked up. I would never touch any one of my friend's boys unless I was completely sure he was the boy I was going to marry and they said it was completely okay, and even then I'm not even sure that I would do it. Is your friend really worth a boy that you probably won't even end up with? Not at all. I kind of have conflicting view on that, though. Being with someone is probably one of the greatest things in the world and what if your best friend's ex-boyfriend was the one you wanted? What if he was the one that you could talk to about anything, trust, and were sure that you would be together, not forever, but for a very long time? Is it worth it? I don't know. I can't make that decision for anyone, so all of my ex-boyfriend's are fair game to my friends. I don't care, one, because I don't have feelings for any of them anymore, and two, because I understand the feeling of wanting someone so bad that you can't even comprehend it. Who am I to say no to that?
That's it, though. That's the story of how I ended up fucking Eddie Small and loosing my virginity. So here I am – naked, with Eddie's arms around me under a blanket. I slid out of his arms left the bed. I tried to be as quiet as possible. I didn't want to wake him up just yet. I opened my closet and picked up a long dark blue t-shirt with the words "Pink Floyd" across it and the cover art from the album "Dark Side of the Moon." I couldn't even find pants so I just slid on some underwear and went down stairs. Bottles of beer were everywhere. The house didn't look as bad as I thought it would. Most of the people were in the basement last night anyway, and the basement always looked like shit.
There were people everywhere. People that I didn't even know. They were all sleeping. I didn't even care. I'd rather have them sleep at my house then go home drunk driving. They would all probably clear out by three anyway. It was ten in the morning now. I was probably the only one up right now in the entire house. I can never sleep late. More then half of these people won't even wake until noon or one at the least. I wish I could sleep until one. I always end up waking up around nine or ten, eleven if I'm lucky. I just really needed a cigarette right now.
I opened the kitchen drawer and too a cigarette out from an opened pack in there. At the begging of summer I just bought a carton and put all the packs of cigarettes in this drawer. I thought it would be easier then going out and having someone buy me a pack every day. It definitely is. I took a lighter from the drawer and lit my cig and closed the drawer. I stood there, leaning against the counter, contemplating what I should do about Eddie. It's not really what I should do, it's about what he would do. Is he going to stay and hang out with me? Are we going to fuck again? Is he going wake up and kiss me or are we just friends now? I'm sure a player like Eddie would try to keep this fucking going as long as possible. He's probably going try to fuck me again, and I'd probably let him to tell you the truth. I don't know if he'd kiss me or not, though. Maybe he'd want to keep is distance until we got into the bedroom again or maybe he'd be all over me. I don't know. I really don't know what's going on. I never even thought this was going to happen.
While I was lost in my train of thought, Cara walked into the kitchen. She was wearing sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. Her long blonde hair was perfectly straight and combed and pushed back with a headband, like it always was.
"Hey," she greeted me.
"What's up?" I asked her.
"Nothing, just woke up. Is everybody else sleeping?"
"Yeah, like every other day."
I took another couple pulls of my cigarette as she asked, "So what happened last night? Was that Eddie?"
"Yeah, it was."
"Nothing happened?" She knew something did. She wasn't dumb.
"We fucked." I loved the way that sounded on my tongue. I have never once been able to say that seriously. I felt invincible, all most. I was smiling, too.
"Yup. Go look upstairs, he's in my bed naked right now."
"I'm good, but thanks."
I knew she was going to say that. I smiling and laughed a little. "I had a great night."
"I didn't," she said and looked down at the floor.
"What happened?" I knew I should've invited her upstairs.
"I don't know. I hate parties, you know that."
"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. I was gonna invite you upstairs but I kinda got side tracked with Eddie…" I felt like shit saying that. That's like saying I forgot about you for a boy. No, that's exactly what I'm saying. It was true, too.
"It's fine, I was watching Ashley anyway. She's just a little wild sometimes."
I laughed. "More like all the time."
"Where'd you sleep?"
"Your parents room, with Anthony. He was pretty upset last night." She knew what happened. Now, I felt really shitty. I didn't even care last night. Maybe I should've.
"Yeah… he left my room out of no where and slammed the door. What'd he say?"
"That you were making out with some random guy right in front of him and you didn't even care. Come on, Ryan… You knew that would hurt him."
"He sees me make out with guys all the time." I tried to make it seem like it wasn't that bad. Lying to someone else is easier, if you believed it too. I didn't, though.
"Yeah, I know. He said that it wouldn't've bothered him so much if it was your boyfriend. But this was a random guy. Well, Eddie isn't exactly random, but he's random to him. He thought you just met him tonight." We always talked about Eddie like I had already met him. Like we already knew him so well. Like last night wasn't even close to the first night we've hung out.
I guess Anthony had a point, though. He doesn't really see me make out with a lot of random guys because honestly, I don't really do it a lot. I meet a guy, talk to him, get his number and we talk and hang out more and then go out. That's usually how it goes. This was different, though. This was Eddie.
"Should I go talk to him?" I asked Cara.
"I don't know…"
Talking to Anthony never helped anything. He hated talking about his feelings. Well, actually that's not true. He hated confronting his feelings. He could rant to someone else about his problems, but he would never dare to tell the person that he was unhappy with what was going on. That's just how Anthony was. Always keeping everything inside until he exploded.
"Whatever." There was really nothing more to say.
"I'll be upstairs," Cara said and then left. I finished my cigarette and pulled out another one to smoke. I jumped onto the counter and sat on it, leaning against the wooden cabinets and ashing it in the sink. Halfway, through my cigarette, I got bored and decided to go back upstairs. Maybe Eddie was awake by now. Probably not, though. Usually, he texted me at noon or so when he woke up. Well, he used to at least.