The more I watched Michael and his little nerd posse, the less I actually liked him. Every single one of them fit a certain mold, but Michael didn’t belong here. He was almost as fit as I was, and it was clear he came from money. It left a bad taste in my mouth, watching him lord over his followers.
“Spill it, Mike!” one of them said, their nasally voice resonating in the most grating way possible. “Did she put out?”
“Did she ever,” Michael laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “I had that bitch sucking my cock like the slut she is.”
I frowned, my fists clenched as I continued listening to Michael go on about how he had Becky begging.
“She whined like a bitch in heat,” he said, that cocky grin still plastered on his face.
If only I’d had something close enough to throw, I’d have hit that smarmy little shit right in the eye. I thought I was doing both of them a favor, but clearly this little prick was just in it for a little fun and bragging rights. I’d always liked Becky—she was a good friend to Jess, and always did her best to get her out of trouble. I’d even started to consider her a part of the family, like a distant cousin who just won’t leave your house. She needed a chance to let loose, but hearing this jackass talking about her like that started to get my blood boiling.
It took every ounce of my willpower not to march up to that prick and punch him right in his smug little face, but I had to stay cool. One slip-up and my full ride to Yale might just go down the drain before the first check could be cut. Going to college meant everything to my father, especially heading to Yale, and if I fucked that up I’d never hear the end of it. I needed to behave.
“Can you just imagine all the pussy we’re going to get after we’re in college?” one of Michael’s minions sniveled.
“You know it,” Michael laughed, “and when I get to UCLA, I’m going to own that place.”
All of them laughed
If Michael’s going to UCLA, then that means he’s going to be there with Jessica, I thought to myself. If he treats the women who give it up to him that way, I can only imagine the way he treats the ones who don’t.
It was no secret that Jessica had never been laid. I mean, how could someone be that uptight after getting their needs met? No, Jessica was the exact opposite—she was a ball of nerves and frustration wrapped up in her pretty little conservative clothes. She and Michael had fought a lot—shouting matches over the phone, from what I’d witnessed.
“So where’s Jessica? I want to see the look on her fucking ice queen face,” Michael said to his friends just loud enough that I could hear it. “Maybe if she’s lucky, I’ll let her have some sloppy seconds.”
I have to keep that jackass away from her, I thought, giving Michael one last glance before I ducked back out of the room.
A strange feeling was welling up inside me… Jealousy mingled with anger, but something else was on the edge of my perception. As I thought about Jessica all I could see was the way she stared at me with those wide eyes when I asked her who she wanted to fuck. There it was, plain as day.
Desire. Raw and unrepentant.
Chapter 5
Jessica
“What happened to you last night?”
Becky called me the next evening just before bed like she always did, to talk about the day or vent our frustration. It was ritual we’d soon be nixing for face-to-face conversations on a nightly basis once we arrived at UCLA in a couple of days.
“I could ask you the same question,” I replied, lying back on my bed. There was something in my voice that was hard, almost like resentment, and I immediately knew that Becky heard it too. Too bad I couldn’t stop myself from talking. “How could you play that stupid game… and with Michael no less?”
“Hey,” she shot back defensively, “I didn’t know that it would be Michael… not that I’m complaining that it was. But how are you going to blame me for doing what you said we’d do—getting me kissed!”
“He’s my ex, Becky!” I said. “And from what I heard in there, you were doing so much more than kissing.”
There was silence over the phone for what almost seemed like a full minute. I wasn’t sure if Becky was mad or just embarrassed; either way, I felt like crap for calling her out like that.
“You don’t get to be all judgy,” she said, trying to keep her tone light, though there was a definite edge to the way she spoke now. She was mad, and honestly, I deserved it. “You both aren’t dating anymore, and I’m a big girl now. I can decide who I want to do… things with.”
“I just didn’t want you to get involved with a guy like Michael, that’s all,” I said, laying my head back on my pillow. “I wanted to do the best friend thing and look out for you, y’know?”
“You keep saying stuff like that, Jess, but I don’t know what it’s supposed to mean. What’s so bad about Michael?”
I sighed, rubbing my hand over my face. I hated talking about my time with Michael, even with Becky, and she knew that, but at the rate that she was pressing everything, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep what had happened between him and I a secret for very long.
“Michael started out fine,” I began. “We did all the normal couple things that you’re supposed to do. We went on dates and went to the movies and kissed.”
“That doesn’t sound so terrible,” she said.
“I’m not done yet. After the first few months, things started to change. We’d be talking about things like school, and I’d correct him on something—usually something small, like the order of some historical event. And whenever I did that, he would get so mad.
“I didn’t think anything of it at first, and he just glared at me and we finished our date. But after the two of us were alone…” I paused, swallowing hard as I remembered the way my cheek stung from that night. “He slapped me across the face. He told me never to correct him like that in public—or ever. He was so loud and so angry that I just told him ‘okay’ so that he’d stop.”
“That doesn’t sound like Michael…” Becky said, her tone doubtful.
“Maybe not the Michael you know,” I said, wiping a tear from my eye. “It got so much worse than that, though.”
“Maybe you’re just making it seem worse than it was,” she said, trying once again to make an excuse. “Look, if you’re jealous because I’m sleeping with him now…”
“That’s just it, Becky,” I explained. “Michael and I never had sex the entire time we were together. Not even once.”
“That can’t be true,” Becky said.
“He wanted to—all the time—but I told him that I wasn’t ready yet. It didn’t feel like the right time. That made him angry.” I stopped for a moment to try and steady myself, my eyes shut tight against the tears. “He kept slapping me and grabbing me, telling me that if I didn’t give it to him like I was “supposed to,” he would keep hurting me. He’s not a good person, Becky.”
“Jessica,” she whispered, her voice faint. “Oh, my God… I’m sorry.”
“He pulled out a fistful of my hair,” I continued, swallowing hard to keep my voice from cracking. “And after that, he told me that he was done with me. He didn’t want ‘some cow that didn’t put out.’_”
Silence once again reigned over our conversation, both of us recovering from everything I’d just laid bare to her. I’d hoped that I would never have to tell her, or anyone, what Michael had done, and that the world would just move on and I could get on with my life. But I couldn’t let my best friend walk right into a relationship with the man who’d abused me for almost a year. I was lucky I got away from him, and if I could keep Becky from ever knowing that pain, then I’d do it, even if it cost me our friendship.