Emmaline
I grip the steering wheel of my car, hard, desperate to get physical purchase since my emotional wellbeing is tumbling down the stairs of my mind.
Ethan is so incredibly, painfully right.
I’m that girl. I hate to be that girl, but, like, I so fucking am because there is no denying the truth now.
I love Ethan. I love Ethan more than I knew that I could. But after giving myself to him the way I did, and how he felt inside me. I’ll never feel truly alive again until I feel Ethan eat my breath off my lips while he drives his cock inside me. I know I’m in love with him. Completely fallen for him. And what am I supposed to do with my life now? What do I do with that?
I'm dangerously close to playing a sad song at top volume and singing alone in my most shrill voice because that’s the level of emotionally overwrought I am right now.
I’m not like my mother, or Ethan, able to read people. I don’t know if Ethan is falling for me, too, or not.
Fuck, I’m crushed at the possibilities weighing down on my brain right now. I don’t just want Ethan anymore, everything inside me is majorly bordering on need. But all my mind wants to do is remind me of all the very clear and obvious, big honking reasons that our relationship isn’t that. Ethan and I? We could never work.
Fuuuuuuuuuck.
I will take three deep breaths, and then I will call Delia.
Inhale.
Everything is terrible and I want to drive my car into a tree and die with Ethan's cum still inside me.
Well, aren’t I dramatic?
Exhale.
Okay, let’s try again.
Inhale.
It was just sex though, right, like why am I being crazy?
Exhale.
As fucking if. I’m not losing my mind for nothing over here.
Inhale.
I push out and exhale right away.
I have violated the deep breath relaxation technique’s rules that I had just established in the prior two minutes and the council heretofore established to govern is surely on their way for me.
I’m getting totally delirious right now.
I jab my thumb onto my phone’s home button. “Siri,” I say to my phone. “Call Delia.” When the call screen switches, I put it on speaker phone.
“Hey babe-“ Delia answers but I cut her off.
“HELLLLLLLLLLLP!” I shout into the phone.
“Jeebus, girl, what’s up? Are you okay?” Delia says, obviously concerned.
“I'm not fucking okay. I mean, I’m in one piece. One very gooey, sweaty piece,” I say quickly. I can’t have her thinking I'm dying or something, but she needs to understand the severity of the situation.
“Breathe then, Em, breathe,” Delia says.
Oh, yeah, not touching that. Tried that, failed that, called you for help! I purse my lips and then figure out how to start. “So, I just had sex with Ethan. Like, my pussy is now made of solid gold because I can’t believe how hard I came, incredible, I can’t think about anything else and my body belongs to him, I’d crawl on my hands and knees for another spin. Sex. With. Ethan.” I finish my very juicy confession that I think is going to warrant copious applause from Delia. I took her advice and I did the nasty and I'm basically down to share details. That’s what she’s always wanted, though she’s never resented my virginity. But, like, now we can talk about everything.
The silence on the other end for a second, that’s not encouraging.
I wait another moment and I hear Delia start to say something but just suck her teeth.
“Okay-“ I start, and now Delia cuts me off.
“Okay, what the fuck were you thinking listening to me? Like, that was a joke, girl, what, what, whaaaaaaaaat? You slept with a teacher?” Delia sounds like she’s as close to hyperventilating as I was.
“Okay!” I interrupt. I know better than to tell my bestie to try out that fraudulent deep breathing technique, and we can’t have the council after her when it doesn’t work. Shit, if we can’t help each other, we’re fucked! A bemused grin spreads over my face. “So, yeah, I slept with the teacher you suggested that I sleep with, the teacher we agreed is hot, the teacher I'm crazy about, and now I’m nuts? Like, I thought we knew it was nuts and I should do it anyway?” I'm totally confused now.
“Um,” Delia says. I can practically hear her pacing. “Are you in love with him, Emmy?”
Delia never calls me Emmy unless shit is really serious. Damn, I guess it really is, too. Delia is my BFF for a reason. I can tell her everything, and I can trust her to always tell me the truth.
“Yes, I am.” I have to tell her the truth, too.
“I did not think you would sleep with him. I’m sorry. Girl, how well do you think you really know him though?” Delia is nervous for me.
I’m nervous for me now, too. The way that she asked me that…I think she might be onto something and I so don’t want to admit that. But that’s what Delia and I do for each other; when we bring something to each other, we know we have to be prepared to deal with some grown woman shit.
“There’s no way you can have a relationship with him,” Delia says. She sounds upset for me.
I appreciate that. I’m upset for me, too.
“And what would your mother think?” Delia asks. Credit to my girl, she does not sound judgey right now. Just bringing hard truths, but not harshly.
And I need that, and a hug, right now.
“Yeah,” I say with a sigh. “My mother seemed downright evasive when I asked her about Ethan at lunch,” I share this damning truth. It sinks into my gut with the thud of suspicion.
Delia sighs now. “There’s probably a good reason for that,” she says. “And you should probably forget about Ethan.”
Amazing how that was the plan before, and now it is serious advice. Advice that maybe I need to take.