Life sucks sometimes, but if we don't get over it then it'll just be more suckish than before. Even when life goes downhill, we still have to
bring it back up. Unfortunately, this is easier said than done, so I can't really say I've ever corrected such a problem. As I looked deep into my hands, I lost concentration, realizing how my
life was just about to go down the tubes.
I never even thought I would get into college, but now I had absolutely no chance. Even if I did go, it probably wouldn't be at the time I
wanted. Meaning, I would have to wait even longer to get out of the house and get a job.
I couldn't believe that one night would ruin my life like it did. Sure, I could always 'turn it around,' and 'make it better,' but what was the point? What was the point in anything anymore? I didn't feel the need to breathe as I grasped the plastic stick in my hands, but I realized I had to as my face began to turn purple. I guess I didn't want to commit suicide, even if I thought it would be easier than to make a decision such as this.
How did this happen? Well, the thing is....I have no idea. The question is: how did I let it happen? I couldn't force myself to throw it away, and I kept doing a double-take. I thought it was all a dream at first until I pinched myself, realizing that it wasn't; I wept silently in the still darkness, hoping no one would hear me.
My feet ahead of my brain, I got up and shoved my body into the bath tub. I clutched my knees and began to think about how this all happened.
Devin is his name, Devin Olivern, to be exact. We were at Tilly's brother's birthday party when this story begins. Tilly is our best friend, Otto being her older brother, and the man who takes care of her as her Mom is in the navy and her Dad left them for another family when they were young.
As the lights flickered pink and a slow song began to play, I sat on the couch with an embarrassed expression as people paired off. Devin flopped on the couch next to me and coughed awkwardly. I smiled but then began to gaze into space.
“So, are you having fun?” He asked, curiosity lingering in his voice. I looked around before noticing he was speaking to me. I raised my eyebrows and replied with a nod.
“Yup, you?” I inquired with a slight grin spread across my lips. He took a sip of his punch and sighed. Devin gave my shoulder a quick nudge, as he turned to watch all the couples dancing. He looked around with dismay. My eyes opened wide.
“Don't even think about it, dork,” I replied, roses blooming on my cheeks as I smiled widely.
“Oh, I wasn't going to ask you....but now that you mention it -” he chuckled, obviously hoping I would respond.
“Fine, but only one dance. Get me some punch, Devweird,” I joked. We were always the type of friends who made fun of each other carelessly. He could tell I was only joshing, and proceeded to the punch bowl. He put down his drink and held mine above my head.
“You get this after we dance,” he responded. I rolled my eyes and shuffled to the dance floor, dragging my feet on the carpet with dread. He placed the drink on the refreshments stand next to his and followed me quickly.
We were soon face to face, not knowing what to do. I mumbled a few curse words before realizing how awkward this was. One thing is definitely for sure, Devin and I were not – and would hopefully never be – a couple.
“So, how does this....uh....work?” I asked, then burping. He let out a slight giggle and just barely touched his fingers to my waist. I slapped my palms onto his shoulder blades. He winced in pain but quickly got over it after seeing I didn't care.
“You just have to move with the music,” said Devin. My lips beamed with joy.
Within the last two hours of the party, not even Tilly realized we were acting strangely – I guess she was too busy thanking people for Otto's presents, as he was drunk by now.
“You look like a toad,” I slurred, “oh! Who am I kidding?! You are so effing hot,” I laughed loudly with glee. Devin stretched and landed on my lap, kissing my belly button. I churlishly pushed him onto the floor but then kissed his forehead, running my fingers through his tousled brown hair. He kneaded his head towards me, placing it between my legs.
“I know I am. Did you know that Count Dracula has eight legs?” He asked, obviously drunk. Who was I kidding? I was too.
“No, but I know someone who has eight legs,” I said.
“Who?” He asked, as if he was a child who was excitedly questioning a myth – such as Santa Clause.
“You,” I replied.
“No I don't,” said Devin.
“Do you want me to....find out....for you? Just to make sure,” I laughed hysterically and fell to the floor.
“Yes. Just to make sure, though,” he laughed along with me.
I remember waking up to the buzz of my cell the next morning with the biggest headache I had ever had. As I opened my eyes to the bright ceiling, I realized I wasn't in my bedroom within the first few seconds. It was cleaner and looked more like a hotel, to be honest. I knew it wasn't since I had been there before. I wondered if I slept over at Tilly's. I flipped open my phone and saw a text message from Mom.
'Okay,' it said. I hurriedly checked my sent messages to see what I said before she replied. In my outbox, I could clearly see what I had said, but not why or even remembering when or why I said it.
'ill be sleeping over Tilly's house. I love u and chicken 2. hehehehehehee.'
For about five minutes I felt calm, being I had probably slept over and stayed in the guest room. The only thing is, I usually always slept in Tilly's room on her pull-out mattress.
Judging from what the alarm clock said, it was only nine in the morning. I decided to go back to sleep for a few hours. Before I drifted off into my dreams, I could feel an arm wrap around me. My eyes immediately pried open.
“Mhm, Chelsea,” said the pubescent voice that I knew. I turned around, facing Devin. Reverting to my old self, I screamed. He woke up startled as I pinned him against the headboard. His brown eyes were fissured open with fear as my nose was almost touching his.
“What – are – you – doing?!” He asked, screaming as loud as he could.
“Did we have sex?” I asked, trying not to refrain my anger, even though I was just as scared as he was. The thing is, I had to much pride to show fear.
He looked down for a momment, seeing we were both in our pajamas.
“It looks like it. Agh, I don't remember a thing,” he complained, covering his eyes. I aggressively let go of his shirt and set him down.
“I can't believe you took my virginity. You're such a douche bag,” I whined, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I could tell he wanted to laugh at first, but by the look on my face he could tell I was serious. Hopefully.
“You took my virginity,” he repetitively scoffed, folding his arms across his chest.
“Why would we? We practically hate each other,” I moaned, ashamed of myself.
“Did you recall the punch tasting kind of funny?” He asked, ignoring my question. For a momment, I tried to remember the taste of the punch. I gasped quietly.
“You think it could have been spiked?” I inquired.
“It's possible; the only logical explanation for this,” said Devin, letting a long sigh escape from his lips. He buried his head in his hands.
“Just know if you tell anyone,” I pinned him down so I was now over him, anger fuming through me, “then I might kill you,” I chuckled.
“Right. Not even Tilly,” he agreed. I got off of him.
“Not even Tilly,” I growled back.
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