Had I been a clever girl I would have blocked both my "brother" and the kid and just washed my hands of all of it. But I can't, is it the drama? The unknown? The heady excitement that keeps me coming back for more? Probably a mixture of all of the above. After that I decided to go out with the kid fueled by the betrayal of my brother. I was not innocent in this and I did not behave properly. When the kid was being boring I would accept an offer from my "brother" to go out usually to a club in the city. It was always a secret between us, none of the others in the friend group knew.
I would dress provocatively and how he liked, with heavy perfume and thick eyeliner. I would accept drink after drink and shot after shot. I would dance freely his body pressed tightly to mine with my eyes scrunched tightly shut because only than could I pretend it was my ex boyfriend touching me, kissing me. I would allow him to touch me and be near be, but I refused to sleep with him. Fueled by the blatant rejection I felt addicted to the attention of men around me. I became a chameleon at hiding my true feelings, I told jokes and was charming. I pouted my lips and made sure to keep my eyes ever wide and surprised, innocent. I became too good at this act, being the bubbly life of the party.
It's not me at all, I'm quiet and brooding deep down almost sullen. It was an exhausting charade and I began to resent those around me for not seeing through it. The only one who knew I was a fraud was one of the M&M cousins. He was a drunk and if he drank enough and I leaned over to talk to him he would close his eyes and breath in my scent. He told me that he liked me but he didn't trust me which made me adore him, I wouldn't trust me either. If I got drunk enough I would break down crying leaving a mess of black tracks down my cheeks. My "brother" accustomed to this would hold me and kiss me until I stopped. He would chide me in his heavy broken English, "why you always cry baby, waste of make up" as he wiped my tears. I would be selfish with the kid and him, I was rude, I acted bored. I was constantly on my phone messaging people I didn't care about. I didn't see the warning signs.
The first time I slept with the kid was a nightmarish drunken fumble in the back of his BMW SUV. We were both drunk and I saw my ex boyfriends clique in the club. I could barely hold back the tears, and instead the I pushed the kid to the dance floor so I could shut my eyes and block it all out. I wanted to make sure it looked like I was so happy and carefree. The flash of strokes and mirrored walls was a comfort to me. I would watch myself dance like watching a stranger. The kid taller than me loved to dance together, his hands would hold me against his body. If he were drunk enough he would paw at my clothes and try to slip his hands under my shirt or dress. I would shove them away and he would grab one and force it under his shirt. I felt the tip of his strained erection he concealed by tucking his penis by the button of his jeans.
My boldness always wore off at that point and I tried to slow things down. I wanted to leave but was not ready to go home I suggested an after hour Italian cafe that was popular to try and sober up. At the table he couldn't keep his hands off me. I became embarrassed by the stares and whispers, I tried to order quickly and hid behind my menu. As we kissed his hand keep creeping towards my breast, I would quickly grab it and tell him to stop. He would pull away sheepishly and give me that baby face smile and apologize. He would shower me in praise and compliments and say he can't help but admire. As I wolfed down my pasta, he tried to order a drink but it was long after last call. He too noticed our audience and we booked it out of there.
In his car he turned on a playlist of popular R&B songs. We started kissing again and lost track of ourselves and time. He played with the button on my pants and asked against my lips if we could go to my house. I thought it over and hesitated, I need some air I wasn't sure if this was a good idea. I got out of the car to lean against it, we had driven to a deserted area of the downtown. There wasn't a soul in sight, he joined me outside the car to light a cigarette. I felt very drunk suddenly as I took a drag and he leaned against me. His kisses were gentle but his actions were more determined. He steered me backwards and opened the door to the backseat and gentle pushed me to lay down.
I had become cold in my thin top and welcomed his warm weight over me. We kissed with passion and I heard the tickling of his belt buckle being loosened and I didn't stop him, as he pulled my fitted trousers off. I thought for sure he could never hurt me, I wouldn't allow myself to be stupid again and this was just about getting over my ex. God help me I had closed my eyes and drifted off when while we kissed and when he pushed inside me, I moaned the wrong name. I called him by my ex boyfriends name now granted they are similar. But it is a grave mistake and he softened inside me immediately, neither one of us moved. I was thankful my face was buried in his neck to hide my shame and extreme humiliation. He put is head on my chest as I choked out apology after apology in tears. We pulled our pants back on but otherwise made no move and he did the strangest thing. I was expecting anger and harsh words, he told me he loved me head still on my chest and I did the only thing I thought would fix it, I said I loved him too.
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