Different works for me because I'm different. Challenge aside, it makes me feel like less of an oddball. How ordinary could the crown prince of a country be? I will never be like the people I spend all my time with. If they don't fit in either, it makes me stand out less.
Nicole is a smart one. The smart ones are always harder, but so much more fun. And so much more interesting. Maybe I'll call her. The thought of breaking down her defenses and making her scream my name gets me hard just thinking about it. She would be a satisfying conquest.
My phone rings, and I fish it out of my pocket. Jessica’s name flashes on the caller ID. She hasn't been one of the smart ones. In fact, she can't even take a hint. I consider not answering, like I usually do, but I need to put a stop to this. She needs to leave me the fuck alone.
"What?" I ask when I push talk.
"Is that how it’s going to be?" she asks.
I nod even though she can't see me. No matter what I do, I can't get rid of her. She's one of the few women I regret sleeping with.
"What do you want, Jessica?"
"I’ve been trying to call you," she says.
"I know." I’ve watched the phone ring every time.
"Why aren’t you answering?"
I sigh and walk to the living room, sinking into an armchair.
"Because I don’t want to talk to you," I say.
I pick up the remote and put the television on mute on the sports channel. I missed the Jets-Broncos game. Highlights flash on the screen. They're much more interesting than anything Jessica has to say.
"Why are you being like this?" Jessica asks. "I thought we had something."
"Well, you thought wrong. And that was six months ago. I know I’m good in bed, but damn, why can’t you just move on?"
"Because it meant something to me, Tommy," she whines.
I grit my teeth. "Don’t fucking call me that." Some girls think baby talk is cute. I don't. "Look, we had some fun together, but I made it clear from the start that I didn’t want something serious."
"I can’t help how I feel about you," she says.
"Yeah, and I can’t help how I feel about you," I say. "And what I feel is nothing."
I tip my head back, leaning against the cushion of the chair. Jessica's like a laxative. She irritates the shit out of me. She doesn't know when, or how, to stop. I’ve ignored her, I’ve told her off gently, I’ve been mean, and I’ve been downright cruel. I’ve done everything to let her know there'll never be anything real between us, but she's too stubborn or too stupid to listen.
I don't do relationships. I don't even make love. I fuck. A lot. I don't want to get tied down to anyone. I've had enough commitments in my life.
"How can you say that?" she asks. "I know you feel something for me."
"Seriously, Jessica, you need to move on," I say. "Find yourself a nice guy or a decent vibrator. Whatever the hell it takes to get past this. Nothing is going to happen between us."
"I can’t just move on, and you know it, Thomas," she says. At least she's using my full name. Progress. "I’m in love with you."
I can't help but smile. "You’re in love with me?" I ask. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Don’t be a dick about it. If you had a heart, you would know what it means when someone steals it."
I chuckle. "Listen, if I stole your heart, let me give it back. And if you’re trying to insult me, it won’t work."
"I’m trying to tell you I love you."
I laugh at her. I don't even try to hide it.
"You don’t love me, Jessica. You love the idea of me. It’s lust and desperation. Not love."