f o u r : understatements

We find LeAnn and Sophie at a pretzel shop, and I relax. Food is something we can all agree on… mostly. It only gets weird when LeAnn tries to say that mustard is good on fish. No, just no.

“Yes, food,” Cas sighs.

“Oh, we’re just getting drinks,” Sophie points at their cups.

I can see the disappointment on Cas’s face. “Well, I want food,” she points to herself, “and Gen wants food, so you guys can go on and just text us where you’ll be.”

Casandra can switch from my role model to my child in seconds. Food waits on no one.

We agree to share a pizza, sausage and mushroom of course.

“Texting lacrosse boy?” I tease her as we wait.

She rolls her eyes, “Maybe.”

She knows how I feel about older guys. It’s just weird, and I don’t want her to get manipulated by some guy that doesn’t give a fuck about her.

She starts smiling at her phone. I think this college guy might actually be making her happy. I won’t ruin it.

Besides, do I have room to judge? I’m with one of the jock types that I typically hate. But Aaron was… different, or so I thought. Judging by his reaction to that fake picture, I’m rethinking that.

The pizza’s finally finished, and before long we dig into it.

“So, there’s this party—”

“No,” I respond flatly.

She looks defeated. “Come on, Sophie has something with her mom and LeAnn has to babysit someone. Please?”

“What? I was your third choice?”

“Yeah… third, we’ll go with that.”

What??

I frown, “I’ve gone to one party this summer and we know how that went.”

“You can’t let one experience keep you down.”

“You’re just saying that because you need something,” I say suspiciously. “What do you want?”

“I need a buffer. You know I’m shy… I need a friend to relieve the pressure on the night—my first time meeting lacrosse boy, aka. Nick.”

“Wait, your first time meeting is going to be at a dirty frat party?”

“Judg—”

“I’m not judging,” I raise my hands in defense. Okay, I’m judging a little. A tad.

“Also, it won’t be dirty. It’s a lil classy event.”

Ooh, I’m a little more interested.

“So, not a typical college party?”

“Champagne instead of beer and glasses instead of solo cups,” she smiles.

“I’m in.”

She nods, “I’ll text you the details.”

“What year is he in again?”

“He’s a freshman.”

Just then, LeAnn and Sophie join us at the table.

I wrinkle my brows, “I thought you two were busy shopping.”

LeAnn shrugs, “We got bored. Ooh, pizza.”

Their eyes brighten as they sit and ogle the steaming food. We end up splitting the pizza four ways.

As we gather our things, I spot Josh, whose party I allegedly whored myself out at. Once I make eye contact with him, he disappears behind a glass divider.

“Woah, look at this,” Sophie points her phone at me.

“Are you serious?” I hiss. That asshole.

“What is it?” LeAnn inquires.

Sophie shows her the phone, and she has a similar reaction. He’s supporting the lie that I got a train ran on me at his party. Supposedly, he witnessed me enter a room with some guys. I thought he was a genuine acquaintance. Turns out that people will do anything for a few seconds of fame on social media.

“He’s such a coward,” Cas says.

That’s an understatement.

LeAnn puts her hand on mine, “Let’s go. People are stupid. This will blow over. It has to.”

I drive them all home. I just need alone time. It feels like things are falling apart. First Aaron lies to me, then someone I thought I could trust (at least a little bit) turns on me. I know for a fact that they know I couldn’t do what the rumors assume.

If it’s like this now, how will it be when we’re squished together in school?

“You can stay over tonight, if you want,” Cas offers.

“No, I haven’t seen my parents since before I went to Josh’s party. I should just stay home tonight, but thanks Cas.”

She nods. I know she’s always physically and emotionally there for me. I just hope this blows over quick. If it gets to colleges, I’ll be screwed.

She leaves, and I get a text message.

“I’m sorry about today. Can we talk about it?” Aaron texts. I shouldn’t let him off the hook that easily, but I need to talk to him… to someone. My friends seem sympathetic enough, but they don’t get it. Aaron doesn’t get it either, but I need to hope that he’s on my side.

I drive to his house and hesitantly knock on the door.

He opens it shortly with an apologetic look on his face. It’s hard to be indignant when he has those sad eyes.

“I’m sorry for everything. I made you feel alone and—”

“What are you talking about?” I ask into his arm.

“The day after the party. I believed that stupid gossip account instead of you. I shouldn’t have hesitated to be on your side… I’m sorry,” he says lowly.

He’s pulled me into a soft hug and closed the door.

“Just don’t lie to me. And believe me when I say that I wouldn’t do that to you. I know that picture was fake. I just need to prove it.”

“I felt a little taken aback, and then my friends started talking shit.”

“Don’t listen to your friends,” I spit. They are the target group of jocks that I strive to avoid. They say that you’re only as good as the 5 people you keep in your company, but I hoped that wouldn’t apply to Aaron, because his friends are assholes.

He leans over and kisses me, “I trust you. We have the proof, but people could say that you took the rings out or something. Without showing your naked chest to everyone we know, we can’t convince them that this shit is fake,” he leans over so that his forehead touches mine, “And I’m the only other person who should see that.”

I roll my eyes. That’s not the point. This is about my personal dignity, not his possessiveness.

He lifts my chin and plants a peck on my lips. I wince a little at the touch, but ultimately give in.

I open my mouth to allow his tongue to enter it. He takes the hint and envelopes me into a passionate kiss. Locking the door, he pulls me onto his lap as we fall on the couch.

I ruffle his ginger curls as I swirl my tongue around his. My breathing quickens because he’s taking all my air. Aaron’s always been a passionate kisser, taking my breath away each time, and it doesn’t affect him at all. As an athlete, he knows how to control his breathing.

“Let’s go upstairs,” he says breathily.

“Mmkay,” I whisper against his neck.

Effortlessly, he lifts me up to his room. When we arrive, he rumbles in his drawer for a condom. I’m on birth control, but we like to be extra careful.

Meanwhile, I’m pulling off my sweatshirt and pants… it’s a good day to not wear complicated clothing.

He lights some snickerdoodle scented candles, my favorite, as I tie my hair back.

He slowly slips the condom on and gets in between my legs, continuing the kiss.

“Wait,” I moan softly, “Do the—”

He catches on and sighs, “Right.”

Reluctantly, he bends over and starts eating me out. I always have to remind him to do it first. It’s uncomfortable when we go straight into it. I never forget to reciprocate, but whatever…

He’s expertly pulsing his tongue on the spot, and eventually a wave of happiness and relaxation flows over me.

Before I can take a breath, he slams into me. That’s how we remain, tirelessly fucking for… about a minute when he finally finishes.

He huffs, “Wow.”

Yeah.

He falls asleep immediately after, and I decide to leave. I’m not going to lie, my fingers give me more climax than Aaron, but I like him for more than sex. We’ve been together for most of high school. I trust him, and I love him.

“Where have you been?” mom hisses.

“Uh, out with friends.”

She crosses her arms, “You didn’t text or call. Genevieve Williams, we—”

“Enforce these rules to keep me safe, I know,” I respond. Usually, I would let her continue with the lecture because I like keeping my privileges, especially the privilege of life, but I’m tired. Let’s cut this shit short.

She sighs, “Yes, so please let us know where you are at all times.”

I nod, “Okay.”

There’s no extra lecture for my interrupting her, but I guess it’s because she’s tired, too.

Dad just watches from the sidelines, sipping his wine.

“Okay, let’s eat,” he announces, gesturing to the takeaway boxes on the counter.

Just then, my phone pings with a message: “This Friday at 9:30. Pemdas Hall in Manhattan. The limo will come get you at 8.”

Ooh, classy.