"Sayonara, bitches!" the frat guys yell at the top of their lungs as the clock strikes 12. All classes end at 12 at Harvard on the last day of this semester. That means that Junior year is finally over.

Ok, they’re not really frat guys. Harvard doesn’t have frats. They have these things called eating clubs. Where you take your meals but then at the end of the evening you go back to your apartment.

I mean, it would be more impressive if they were real frat guys, in other colleges. But I guess this is the best we have. I sigh. Doesn’t really matter. I have enough on my plate despite the year being over.

"Remember that this year was smooth sailing and next year’s going to be tougher!" shouts Professor Waltz as the rest of the class and I share our enthusiasm for the year coming to an end by stampeding to the door.

This year was smooth sailing?

I mean, this year has so not been easy. I feel as if I’ve been at Harvard for twenty years. I’ve done nothing, but study, study, and study some more. Thank goodness summer’s here. I need a break and I need to get the fuck out of here.

"Wow, you’re acting as if you’ve won the lottery or something. Is there something that you’re not telling me?" Sandra laughs as I grab my things quickly so that I can get to my dorm room in record time.

"It’s just that I messed up and told Zach that I finished yesterday and not today. So he’s in my room waiting for me."

I left him in bed this morning while my roommate, Rachel, was still asleep. I can’t wait to get the summer vacation started because I’m dying to get out of here. Junior year has been so difficult, but then again studying at Harvard was never meant to be an easy ride, you know?

Still, it was the last day, and I’d be heading home tomorrow. I know Zach had wanted to fuck so I felt kinda guilty going to classes, but he and I have the whole day now. At least that’s what I tell myself. I mean, he’s not going to need the whole day. He’ll barely need three minutes.

Sandra grabs her things too and starts walking out with me, "Been a while since you guys hooked up, right?"

It’s no secret that I’ve had my head stuck in the books for weeks now. I’m at one of the most prestigious colleges in the U.S. It’s not smooth sailing, and I need to concentrate on my classes. Zach’s been patient enough to say that he understood. Not many guys would put sex on hold for so long. He’s a brilliant boyfriend; I don’t know what I’ll do without him. We hooked up in freshman year and everyone said that it wouldn’t last because we were each others rebounds from prior relationships.

But our relationship is the same and nothing has changed … even with his little problem. As soon as we finish college we’ll get married and have kids and prove to everyone that rebound relationships do work. All it takes is dedication and patience; for the last three years we've been fully committed to this relationship.

I loop my arm into Sandra’s. "Yes. I’m going to give him a whole lot of loving tonight."

She laughs, "I’m sure you are. I swear Karen Astor! You’ve got it all. A top ball player. Good looking, rich, and what am I missing?"

I want to tell her that there is one thing. The real reason I kept him away sexually and it's frustrating, but I can’t tell her the truth. That’s Zach’ secret, something that’s too private to share. I wouldn’t like it if he did that to me. If I had problems in the bedroom and he told the world. Besides, no relationship is perfect; there's no such thing. Everyone has their flaws, including me.

Right?

I mean, you could say that I’m sort of a slut. I’ve slept around. I had sex at an early age. I dated. A lot. Been around the block.

But I don’t care.

I’m young. I’m pretty – at least that’s what guys seem to tell me.

I have the world at my fingertips. Why am I not going to enjoy it?

Besides, I think I’ve done a lot of my wild oat sowing and am ready now to settle down with Zach. I definitely lose out some in the sex department, but hopefully get it back in the nice-guy department.

"Intelligent, smoking body…the list could go on." Her blue eyes shine. "You know that he’s got you too."

I sigh because I know exactly what she’s talking about. Zach is all that, despite his flaws. And Rachel and Sandra have been my rocks whenever moments of self-doubt creep in, and they’ve been creeping in a lot lately. My mom’s been missing for nearly a year now. Before that she’d spent the last few years in and out of rehab more times than I’ve changed my underwear. I worry that sometimes when I get a little depressed that maybe I’ll turn to drugs like mom did. No one understood why she started to get dependent on them.

"Only one more year left."

Unlike Sandra, I can’t wait for college to be over. I hate being so cloistered from the world and I want to get a job and start acting like a grown-up. I’m twenty-two and the feeling of being out in the real world is something that I’m craving right now.

"I just want to get a job, an apartment, and to be with Zach. Why does that feel as if it's too much?" I sigh as I think about us going away for the summer and then back to college again. Back to being apart. "College isn’t my thing. Not my world. Everyone talks about going to college as if it's going to be an unforgettable experience. All I know is that college just never seems to end!"

She smiles as we get to the intersection, where we head in opposite directions. Usually, we would go to the library or even grab something to eat before we’re due to go back to class. Now that the year is over, that is one thing that I’ll miss. Hanging out with my blonde-bombshell girlfriend.

"That’s because you either spend your time withZach or studying; you never tried to enjoy being here. That’s why."

She has a point; I missed out on all of the parties. I’d either be at Zach’s eating house or struggling with one of my papers. I’ve just found it hard being here and I’m not one for socializing at the best of times. I hate to admit that she’s right, so I give her a hug instead. "Stay in touch."

"You’re not trying to get rid of me right?"

"No, it's just that Zach’s waiting for me."

I pull away, and then I go back to hug her. Damn, I’m going to miss her, but I need to get back to Zach. So many times I’ve wanted to give up, and she’s been the push that I need to keep studying and not give up.

I just gotta get her something while I’m on vacation. She’s going to New York to stay with her dad and party too hard. She keeps inviting me to go with her. I did ask Zach, but he wasn’t that keen on it. Without her, I would've quit Harvard a long time ago.

We start walking in opposite directions and then I stop and shout out, "Love ya!" and blow her a kiss.

She pretends to catch it, "Don’t be a stranger."

I laugh, because she couldn’t keep me away even if she tried. I have a big smile on my face as I walk to the dorm room. Everyone’s running around like mice. Some are getting ready for an all-night party. Others are just dying to go on vacation. Mainly the rich ones, whose parents have handed them pots of money so that they can enjoy themselves. I wish that I had this luxury. But, I don’t. My dad’s dead and my mom’s on drugs. It’s been some time since the state pulled her sizable trust fund and put it in a custodial account. I’m not about to go ask my stepdad Daniel what happened to it just yet. That money had been set up by my grandparents for Mom and any children she might have had. But when she started to take her life off the deep end, her parents had gone to the State of California and ensured that certain restrictions were placed so she couldn’t touch the money without becoming clean. When she left home – searching for drugs and who knew what else – the state merely shrugged and placed the funds in a escrow account. I shake my head as I think about my past and smile as I think about the future with Zach.

As I reach the dorm, I pull out my phone because I think that someone’s calling it. I realize that no one’s calling, but I’ve got it in my hand as I freeze as I open the door.

"What the fuck?" I mutter as I open the door to see that Zach’s sitting on my bed. But that’s not all. Between his legs is Rachel. My saving grace. One of my rocks in college. Only she’s not supporting me; she’s on her knees. Her head is bobbing up and down on Zach’s cock she’s giving my man the full service.

"Oh fuck yeah, Rach, just like that," Zach moans out loud and for an instant I wonder where this side of my boyfriend is coming from. Sure, he likes getting blowjobs, but I’m a bit surprised that Rachel has the room to bob her head as much as it looks like she’s doing. Zach isn’t super huge. He’s not even huge. He’ barely average.

"I love your mouth on my cock," Zach says as his fingers reach down to feel her tits. Fuck, that’s my fucking man. Getting head. On my bed. In my room. From my roommate.

Let me ask again.

What the fuck?

I don’t know why, but with my phone in my hand, I take a damn picture. It’s as if my fingers can’t comprehend what’s going on. In this moment, I hate him, so much. Zach grabs my jersey, which is lying on the bed, and uses it to wipe his cock. He’s so lost in the afterglow of his climax that he doesn’t even realize that I’m standing by the door.

Snap, another photo!

And as I take the picture, my hate turns to detachment.

Zach is fucking dead to me.

After I take the second photo, he realizes that I’m in the room, "Karen, we thought that you weren’t finishing until two!" He puts his limp dick back into his pants, zips up and gets off my bed.

"So, I’m early, that makes this okay?" I ask, gesturing around.

Rachel’s moving slow and confident. I want to scream at her and tell her not to move. Tell her that she’s sunk so low; ask her why she would do that to me. I thought that she was my friend. I want to cry, but the tears don’t leave my eyes.

"You never want to have sex. I was frustrated in the bathroom, and Rachel said that she could help," Zach explains, as if that’s justification for what I’ve just seen.

"On my bed! In my room?"

"Our room," Rachel corrects me, and then she just leaves. As if she’s done nothing wrong.

Zach holds on to me, pleading. "Look, it’s not like you ever want to have sex. You’ve been stressed." Then his tone turns into a purr as if he’s trying to make out that somehow this is my fault. I know this tone so well. He does it to me all the time. Whenever I don’t want to have sex, his voice changes to this tone. Whenever I want him to come and visit me, his voice changes to the same tone, telling me that it would be easier for me to visit him. Zach has a way of manipulating me to do anything that he wants me to do, which is why I get nervous around him. It starts hitting home that this relationship isn’t what I say it is to other people or even what I tell myself that it is most of the time.

It’s like mom and her drugs.

Zach’s an addiction that I really need to get rid of.

He’s still talking, "I get it. I just needed a…" Then he winks at me as if I’m one of his college buddies.

"Get out!" I tell him softly. But while my words may be soft, my tone is louder than any yell.

He looks at me.

He hesitates for a minute and then blurts out, "I think that you’re overreacting. It’s not like I had sex on your bed or anything. Call me when you come to your senses!" Then he throws my sweater on the floor as if it’s a piece of trash before slamming the door shut behind him.

My phone’s still in my hand, and I mutter, "Overreacting am I?"

I start to post his five-inch cock on Facebook with a message about his premature-ejaculation problem. I’ll probably be going to Facebook jail because it’s a cock pic, but whatever.

It’ll be worth it.

This is the real reason that we haven’t had sex in forever. By the time I start getting wet, he’s already finished. I’ve tolerated it and thought about his other qualities, and the fact that we’ve been together since high school. The fact that I thought he loved me. I'm angry: not with myself, but with him. I found him with Rachel and yet I've not shed one tear. It’s as if somehow I feel free, yet humiliated. I don’t deserve to be humiliated; he does. So I post on Facebook, for all his friends to see. As soon as I hit the post, I start getting likes for the picture with the message, "Zach coming before the action starts!"

* * *

I grab the last of my things and look around my room. I’m glad that I shipped most of them home on Tuesday. I only have a couple of thing to pick up before I hop into the car for the long drive. Daniel, my stepdad, said that he wanted me to come home before I went on vacation with Zach. I wasn’t going to do it, especially after I gave Zach the wrong date for the end of term. Now I see no reason not to. After all, I’ve got to plan my summer and I don’t feel like staying here a second longer for Rachel to come back and see me. I plan to avoid her like the plague. Thank God we’re not sharing again next year.

As I walk to the car, my phone’s vibrating like crazy. This is when I see that most of his friends have liked the picture and shared it. I have around forty views, but I’m sure by the time I get home, it will have gone viral, and then Zach will be the one worrying about my actions, rather than me worrying about his.