We fuck and we fuck and we fuck. Just to get it out. Get over. “I don’t know where I’m going,” I say and she hits me. I’m back underneath her. She’s pinching my skin as if there are more clothes to pull off but I’m naked. She grabs at my thighs and jerks them apart. I feel so wet between my legs that I check to see if there’s blood. My fingers come up clear and slick. I let my head fall backwards against the mattress. “Where are you taking me?” She asks. “Down,” I answer. “I don’t know what you mean,” she says. “You never know what I mean,” I tell her. And I’m serious about that.
She never knew what I meant.
The beginning was like all beginnings. Necessary. Everything. Different, this time. The ending was complete. Cauterized. This is the kind of girl who will never speak to you again. Will never look at you. She will break away from everything that touched you somehow. She’s vain, so maybe she’ll peek now and then. Lift the covers, so to speak, on your life, but you’ll never know for sure. The beginning and the ending are predictable. These things always are. Still, it’s a story that holds meaning.
“You’re a mistake,” she told me once. “No, you are,” I laughed. I was a brat. I was the kid who slapped your ass with a wet towel at the pool. I didn’t care about anything because I thought I was right about everything. We were both right. Everything about this was a mistake. But I’m the one who feels it more now. She was the mistake I never wanted to make. I’m too prideful. I don’t fuck things up like that. Only, I did. Just this once. Fuck it up like that. But there are reasons why. There are always reasons.
I knew how to unlock her. I liked that and I needed it. I knew how to grab her wrist, pull her down to the floor, and make her want it. It was like I had all the secrets. I knew just when to call her up or swing by unannounced. I took it out on her for it all being too easy. I grabbed her jaw and slid my fingers inside her mouth and she fell to her knees. I walked in front of her, knowing how my jeans were hanging off my hips. If she was out with someone else, then especially she was mine. We both knew it. I’d sit off by myself with a beer and let her watch me. I’d lean over the railing of a friend’s deck and feel her stare. It was magnetic. Unavoidable. I comfort myself with that word. Unavoidable. Even if it’s bullshit.
I fucked her every time she told me to go. Every time she asked me to leave. I fucked her when she begged to go to sleep and after, every time, she curled up around me and slept like a baby. Slept deeper than ever. Woke up smiling. Woke up happy and forgetting how bad everything was in real life. I gave her no choice. I was just what she wanted. I stood back and waited for her to come to me. She screamed and cried and told me to go away and came back again and again.
One time, I showed up late at night without asking. We talked on the back stoop and passed a bottle of Old Crow back and forth. I smoked a cigarette and regretted it. I stretched myself out on the cold cement and lifted my shirt up to my ribs. She held her hand out, shaking. I grabbed the tip of her finger and led her hand to my belt. She froze there, fingers trembling. I let my belly lift and fall. I stared at her. “This is your hand on me,” I said. She looked over her shoulder at the screen door. Her girlfriend was coming over soon. I lifted my shirt higher and pulled her hand across my chest. She flinched. “This is your hand on me,” I said again and she leaned over with her mouth hanging open and a sad, scared look in her eye. “I need you to go,” she said and I grabbed her head. I kissed her and slid my hands under her shirt, under her bra. I felt her come undone. I reached one hand down between her legs, under her skirt and ran my knuckles against her panties. I felt how wet she was already. I felt her thighs fall open.
“You’ve got to go,” she whispered, “Please.” I slid two fingers under her panties and pushed her lips open. “I’m inside you now,” I told her. “Please,” she said and pulled me to her.
I was in no rush. I fucked her slowly like I had all the time in the world. Like we were old lovers, fucking lazily in our own home, but this was brand new. This was the first time that she wouldn’t say yes. The first time that she asked me to leave, just go, and slid her thighs apart for me. I fell for it. Or she fell for it. Everything was a mistake. Everybody got used. And I fucked her so slowly there on the hard cement. I scraped my knuckles against the tiny pebbles under her ass. I slid my fingers in and out of her while she dripped and only when she looked really scared did I bend over and flick my tongue against her clit. She started to moan like a mean cat but clamped a hand over her mouth for control and was silent when she came.
While she was still out of breath and confused, I stood up, grabbed the bottle between us, and walked around the side of her place to the street. I squeezed between the bricks and prickly bushes, avoiding the front door. I walked South. I walked until my feet hurt and I could barely smell her on my fingers anymore.
I remember the night we fucked and I realized that I didn’t even like her. All our friends seemed to think she was amazing, but I didn’t. I just rode along with their view of her and ignored my own head. I never really wanted anything from her. It had all been so easy. I just took what was there in front of me because I could. It’s the kind of mistake I never wanted to make. The kind that disgusts me. I’m the asshole here. I’m the jerk.
This is my goodbye. It’s what you wanted, right? Tear out this page and put it under your pillow. Sleep tight, babygirl. I’m gone. This is nobody.