Four days later he asked me out. Again.
Looking back I should have said no, but at the time I was so overwhelmed with excitement and happiness that all logic flew out of the window within seconds.
The "relationship" shouldn't even be called one. Though we hadn't had the best track record when it came to relationships, I guess I was expecting a lot more than he was willing to give. I wanted something serious, something real. He just wanted someone to blow him whenever.
He invited me over to watch a movie, but all he wanted to do was make out. Honestly, I wasn't cool with what was happening. I tried to convince myself that this is what people do in relationships, even when I knew there had to be more than just the physical. I guess I just wanted to be with him. I would do anything to be near him. And I meant anything.
Really anything that meant I could be near him. And I meant anything.
He was wearing a gray shirt that day. I remember because I was the one who ripped it in half. I remember because I was the one who had to hide it. I remember because I was the one who kept it just to be able to smell him, even after I washed the sheets.
I was texting him in class, talking about anything really, anything to keep texting him. It was the last day of school, meaning we could basically do anything and the teachers wouldn't care. At first, it was an innocent conversation about his day, then we started to talk about basketball (more like he talked about basketball), then I asked if we could go on a date. He said he was busy. I tried not to feel hurt, or even look like I cared. A girl had to keep up appearances.
Then the text came. The text that changed everything, whether it was for the better or worse, I didn't know, but things definitely changed.
Hey you want to hook up? ;)
My heart skipped a beat. He had been leaving sexual hints since the beginning, but I had never known he was being serious. I wasn't ready for him to be serious. I stared at it for a long time. It was more of a question than a statement, and I didn't really know how to respond.
My instinctive answer was no, but then it was yes, then no again. I cast a look in his direction, trying to look casual. He was leaning back in his chair, laughing at something a girl next to him had said. His lanky legs were awkwardly crushed under the short table. Before I could think more, I did the stupidest thing I could have.
I knew it was a bad idea as soon as I hit send, but it was too late now. He glanced over at me, smirking. One wink and I would have melted.
Fuck. He winked.
Afterschool, your house he mouthed.
Okay, I told myself, after school, my house.
On the walk to my house he didn't hold my hand, or casually sling his arm around my shoulder, in fact we didn't touch at all, or talk for that matter. So many thoughts were going through my mind. I was trying to organize all my thoughts, trying to figure out all the things I knew. I knew that I was always the first one home—by an hour. I knew that I was wearing the ugliest bra I owned. I knew that my room was the closest to the front door. And I knew he, always no matter what, carried a condom in his wallet.
Hooking up could mean many things to many different people, but with Shreyas I knew it only meant one thing, and I had never done that thing before. I felt a knot form in my stomach as we started to approach my front door. Of course I had kissed the occasional boy at a party or while away at camp and making out was basically the foundation of our relationship, but I had never, ever had sex.
My hands shook so hard as I tried to unlock the door that I missed the lock at least four times. I was shocked when his hand slid down my arms and steadied my hands. As we swung the door open and his lips found mine, the knot in my stomach didn't go away, in fact it never went away, it just hid until things got to their worst.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew he was using me, even as he pulled me into my bedroom and locked the door, but I pushed the thought to the back of my mind. Finally, after months of hatred, I could finally be with Shreyas. Maybe not in the way I originally thought, but it was better than nothing, because nothing was torture.