Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

As I pull into the apartment complex, I notice Sadie’s car is in lot, parked right across from our door.

Great. I don’t want to do this right now. I have too much on my mind already. I just pray that Jake isn’t with her- I don’t think I’d be able to hold back my anger if he is.

I kick off my shoes in the doorway, pretending I don’t hear the TV in the living room. If I can just get to my room, and stay in there until she leaves, then everything will be fine.

“Lena.” Sadie seems to appear out of nowhere in the tiny foyer, her arms crossed against her chest as if she is the one who has the right to be mad. I know this game. She does something shitty and then tries to come up with excuses while being defensive because she can’t face her own mistakes or admit she’s wrong.

I push past her. I have nothing to say to her…but even so, I can’t stop the instant relief at the knowledge that she’s okay. For all I knew, she could have been kidnapped or held hostage for the past two weeks.

She grabs on to my upper arm. “Stop!” She says, trying to sound all stern.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” I reply, and it’s true. I just want to grab my laptop and hide away in my bedroom. After all, I have…erm… research to do.

“You’re being a child.” She scuffs, letting go of me and crossing her arms again.

“I’m being a child?” I ask, disbelief peppering my tone. “You ditched me. You took me to a strip club- under false pretenses- and then ditched me to go hook up with your ex boyfriend- who, by the way, cheated on you. Let’s not forget the fact that you never called or told me you were okay.”

“You never called me!” She gasped, taking a step back and looking all offended. “If you care so much why didn’t you make an effort to find me? If you really thought I could have been hurt, you did a shitty job of trying to help?” It comes out as a question, to further her “disbelief.”

Oh, so this is the game she wants to play? The “I may have done something shitty, but you did something even more shitty” game. No. I’m done. “I’m moving out. You and Jake can keep the apartment.” I don’t know why I say it. I haven’t even made a decision yet…but it feels amazing to see the wounded look on her face. “I didn’t sign up for this.” I quickly add on.

“You would do that?” She whispers. The hurt is evident in her eyes, but I ignore it. I’ve been through this too many times.

“Yes. And I am.” Great. I just keep digging the whole I’ve already got myself into.

“How? You don’t have a job! You’re living off savings and student loans.” She snaps back, searching for some grip on the argument. It doesn’t work.

“Better than living off Daddy. And trust me, I’ll find a way.” You have no idea.

Tears fill her baby blues and I force myself to look away. I refuse to be sucked back into her vicious cycle of manipulation. “I have a lot of homework to do.” I lie. When she doesn’t say anything, I head on to my bedroom. “And I’m glad you’re okay.” I say over my shoulder, unable to stop myself because I really am glad she’s okay.

She doesn’t reply.


I change into my most comfortable pajamas- sweat pants with holes all in them, and an oversized white t-shirt I had swipped from my dad before I left home- and turn on my computer. It takes a few moments, so I sit on my bed, my head resting on my knees, and wait. I wish I hadn’t had told Sadie that I was for sure moving out, but I was so caught up in the moment… I sigh. God, sometimes I can be so stupid. I don’t want to hurt her…but I don’t want to forgive her either; not after the way she treated me.

Besides, I haven’t even made my decision yet. And I refuse to let her be the reason.

When the laptop is up and running, I pull it close to me. I open the search engine and bite my lower lip. What am I supposed to be researching exactly? He didn’t exactly give me any key words.

What did he say- he wants me to “submit” to him..? Maybe that’s where I should start.

And boy, I am taken aback by the porn sites that pop up. Some are quite…frightening. And that’s putting it mildly. They’re not exactly off putting…but different.

Could I do that?

Could I let him do that?

I scroll down the list of attached images and find myself… interested by some. Hands tied behind my back? I could go for that. Arms tied to the bed? Clamps on nipples? No problem… In fact, the very idea has me licking my lips in anticipation.

But, of course, there are some things I can’t even imagine trying. Not even once. Is that an apple in that girl’s-?

No. No. No. If I’m going to do this, then there is going to be some serious decisions ahead of time.

I roll over on my bed and grab the notebook on my nightstand. I flip it open and start right away, creating a list of things I’m willing to try and a list of things there’s no way in hell will ever happen.

I pause and bite the top of my pen. The Willing To Try list is growing way longer than I thought it would. Maybe I’m not as big a prude as I originally thought I was. And imagining Professor Skye, my English Lit. Professor, doing this things to me… Mmmm….

The thought is an instant turn on.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s