"I'm not like you, Virginia. I'm a selfish bastard. I don't have a lot of redeeming qualities. The world would probably be better off without me."
"That's a harsh thing to say about yourself. "
"It's the truth. I don't romanticize my existence."
"Even so, you’re more than you give yourself credit for."
"You think I fucked you because you wanted it? La merde. I fucked you because I wanted it. And I fucked you the way I wanted to fuck you. You can't pretend you liked it. I know it hurt."
I look down at my lap, then up again. "But you almost didn't. You wanted to take me home. I'm the one that convinced you otherwise. You can't take all the blame."
He frowns, and I feel as if I've said something else, something other than what I actually said or meant.
"And if I were a good person, you'd be back home instead of in this car. But like I said, I'm a selfish bastard. A part of me just wants you for a fuck toy and not care what it does to you."
I want to gulp but can’t. After I find my voice, I ask, “What does the other part want?”
He continues to stare ahead. “Maybe there’s no other part.”
It seems wrong, but I think I might be okay with that. Am I so starved for a guy’s desire such that I’m willing to be devalued into a sex object? Is my self-esteem that low? Or is it the fact that it’s wrong that makes it intriguing? I know I’m not okay with being a sex object for just anyone. In fact, I balk at the idea. But with Tony...I find it arousing.
For now. I may think differently, a whole lot differently, later.
We drive in silence for a while till I remember that I should give Talia the heads up that I might not be home tonight or she’ll wonder. I take out my phone to text her.
“What app is that?” Tony asks.
“It’s this new thing called BW2T, Better Way 2 Text. You can integrate it with a whole bunch of other social apps and create your own emojis. Plus, it has a huge selection of gifs. It’s supposed to make texting more fun.”
When the car pulls up in front of Eric’s place, I’m disappointed. I want Tony to myself.
“Changed your mind?” Eric asks Tony with raised brows when he sees us both.
“Yes,” is all Tony says, sounding slig
htly annoyed with the question.
“We had dinner already, but there’s probably leftovers in the kitchen.”
Tony turns to me, but I reply that I’m not hungry. I take my duffel bag and textbook upstairs back to the room I had the first night. At least now that I have my textbook, I can study. I’ll miss Mr. Parker’s office hours, but maybe there’s a computer or tablet I can borrow to download the class notes.
“So how’d you get Tony to change his mind?” Sierra asks, leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed in front of her.
“Pretty much begged him,” I reply, surprising myself with my retort. Usually I’m stumped and can never think of a comeback.
Sierra snickers. “So he felt sorry for the little redneck.”
Refusing to take the bait, I don’t answer.
“So how come you guys were gone so long?” Sierra asks.
“We went for a late lunch, early dinner thing,” I reply, then ask her so she doesn’t probe too much, “What did you and Eric do?”
“Hung out in the hot tub. Had drinks. Sex. What did you think we were doing? Watching a stuffy historical documentary on PBS?”
That girl needs some courtesy slapped into her, I imagine Lila saying. And Lila would do just that if she could be certain she wouldn’t land in jail for it. The thought amuses me and dissolves my irritation towards Sierra.
I pick up my textbook and open it, hoping she gets the message, but it backfires.