Limerence - Alana Curran (100 books to read .txt) 📗

Crushed

I invited Aaron round that evening. My apartment was so empty, it sometimes saddened me to live there. Not that I didn’t enjoy my own awesomely lavish place, but sometimes I found that I was talking to myself and it sucked to hear my voice echo round the empty rooms.

It was great to have Aaron round; to have a few beers with him and not worry about the mess; to have the TV as loud as we wanted and not worry about the noise (the entire apartment was soundproofed...yeah, I know; but the best part was that he was the only one in my entire bunch of friends, that actually knew my story. I don’t know if you’ve ever had the feeling of being around people and feeling like a total stranger to them, but I have and it sucks more than you can believe.

So, it was good for me to be able to call up Aaron and he was more than happy to get away from his psycho bitch of a mother for a few hours. We talked about him becoming a lodger, but the idea began to get weird. Surely, his mother would have jumped to conclusions anyway and went mental at the idea of her son getting funky with another dude.

Homophobe, even though she was aware of my sex record. Yeah, I had one back then. Wow, I’m really coming across as a douche aren’t I?

Anyway, now a safe distance from his bipolar, menopausal mother and her rolling pin, Aaron sat there with me flicking through channel after channel on the television, until he made me stop when Game of Thrones popped its rank, incest ridden head round the corner. I never listened to what the people were saying, I just watched them in their funny clothing and despised the bad lighting around an evening scene.

“I really cried when Robb died, y’know,” he admitted.

“Wow,” I exclaimed sarcastically, flicking the channel over to some heavily chested woman showing us how to make finger puppets. “You’re a special kind of homo, aren’t you?”

He rolled his eyes, “Whatever, it was sad.”

“Why did you tell me that, though? Weirdly, personal.”

“Come on, dude, we flick each other’s balls for fun,” he reminded me. “It doesn’t get any more personal than that.”

“Yeah, but it’s usually in a group and we have laughter to fill the awkward void after doing so.”

He shrugged, taking an overly exaggerated bite of a Pringle and pulling the lever on the side of the sofa so that his footrest popped up. Despite watching puppet woman’s boobs jiggle like jelly, I couldn’t stop thinking about Evan. It was weird for me, she was the complete opposite of my type, yet she managed to clamber into my brain.

I was used to thinking about Kerry in my spare time and I usually didn’t give up on a girl, until I had my way with her. Not that I fancied Evan (at least I thought I didn’t), but I couldn’t get her eccentric face out of my mind.

“What did you like so much about Evan?” I, eventually, brought myself to ask.

I glanced at him. He stared at me, as though I had just asked him to suck me off. Eventually, he threw another crisp into his mouth and shrugged. “Dunno, first girlfriend, I guess.”

“But, like, there was something you liked about her, right?” I questioned.

“She was pretty...and wonderfully weird,” he insisted, he paused and stared into thin air as though he was thinking about her. He, eventually, glanced back at me, the plasma screen reflecting on his eyes. “I only obsessed about her because she was my first girlfriend, like you and that transfer student.”

“Yeah, but that’s different.”

“How?”

“I slept with her,” I reminded him.

He shrugged, as though it meant nothing to him. “She still had a weird hold on me, she was probably just stringing me along and had no intention of shagging me anyway,” he explained, “I guess considering that hurt the most.”

We stayed silent for an awfully long time, watching the advertisements with the cheesy girls and their cheesy grins, as though the product they withheld had become their new bed buddy and their lives had become so orgasmic they couldn’t stop smiling.

Aaron broke the silence with a completely different topic. “You coming to the Sox Box on Friday?” he asked, staring intently at the condom commercial.

He was talking about a small bar right at the end of Knoughton. It was so beautifully compact, that everybody knew everyone. It was almost like a home away from home. Although, I couldn’t really describe it that way at the time because I didn’t have anyone living at home to know me.

It was called Sokeifrein’s, which no one I ever met could pronounce. Therefore, the nickname the Sox Box was born. Everyone else were too busy heading off to Newcastle to go to Quinn’s on a Friday night anyway. It was nice to go round and see the same, old friendly faces every now and again.

I never took any of my girlfriends there, that would have suggested I wanted them to be part of my life. They never were that. They were just a source of entertainment; like a slightly more satisfying porno magazine...and why would I have wanted to mix my porno’s among my mint condition Batman comics?

The idea was laughable.

“Guess so,” I shrugged, “I’ll finish off that stupid still life crap on Sunday.”

“You do still life in college too?” he asked.

He had done GCSE art with me in high school, but had moved onto business administration in college...and passed. I shrugged in response, “Seems that still life is a pretty big part of art.”

“Whatever, mate, I was gonna ask Roxy to come round, but she’s got a late shift,” he stated pointlessly. “Going out to dinner with her on Saturday.”

“I’ll say a prayer for you,” I joked, glancing at him, “Maybe then you’ll get her bucked.”

“Don’t need it, mate,” he chuckled.

***

I dreamt about Evan that night. I don’t remember much of it now, but I do remember waking up to old, faithful morning wood....and an unpleasantly sticky surprise. I threw myself back and buried my face in the pillow in humiliation. I don’t know why I was embarrassed, no one was around to find out I had a wet dream.

I hadn’t had one since I had been dating the Latvian girl, which I was convinced was unusual, but the doctor told me I was fine...after ten minutes of clarifying that that was all I was worried about.

I glanced at the digital clock on my bedside table – 8am.

College didn’t start until eleven, so I had time to throw my sheets and underwear into the washing machine while I took a much needed shower. I don’t know what it is about a shower that makes you think about things. Maybe it’s the fact that, especially with no music playing, you have to occupy your mind with something while you get hosed off.

I stood there under the water, spick and span but enjoying the comfortable heat, before I brought myself to get out and dry off. Before doing so, I imagined what Evan might have looked like in the shower which was a bad idea considering the fact I had to pee. It was when I finally managed to tame the ‘beast’, did I realise what was happening.

Did I have a crush on Evan. Surely, not. I hadn’t had a crush in years. Usually, I fancied a girl, but never to the extent where I couldn’t get her out of my mind. It was ridiculous. I barely knew her twenty four hours and I already fancied her. Then again, crushes were ridiculous.

I shook off the thought and threw on some clothes, before wandering out to the front door to old Bessie. That’s right. I named my car. I had a very personal relationship with her and all I knew was that she was the only girlfriend I needed. She was definitely my first splurge when dad started topping up my bank every month. A beautiful black Aston Martin and she purred to the touch.

Settling myself in her leather exterior, I turned on the radio to hear some Flo Rida disaster blasting through the speakers. It seemed I would never hear a song I liked on the radio in this day and age. So, I flipped through my CD collection I had stashed under the compartment in the passenger seat (I deemed it as precious and didn’t want anyone to nick it).

I glanced through the windscreen and passed the roof parking lot to see an overcast sky and a tree blowing violently in the wind. Depressing day. Sounded like a day for a good old tune by Felt. So, I drove to college, feeling like I was in the middle for a gloomy scene of a movie with Red Indians crooning through my speakers.

I always felt awesome listening to music on my own, as though life was a big adventure. Of course, many people probably feel this way...but some are too embarrassed to admit it.

When I reached the college parking lot and sat there, waiting for the clock to tick forward before I’d have to show up for class, I turned my head to the right. I wished I hadn’t. In the corner, were the usual stoners, getting high on the weed their mother’s probably grew illegally in their gardens. But they weren’t alone. No, today, a girl was with acquainting them. A girl in a long, red wig which had been blatantly backcombed to look more ‘Emo’.

She had her back to me and I wasn’t sure whether she was smoking or not, but I wasn’t having any of it. I pulled myself out of the car and approached. The stoners jerked their chins in acknowledgement of my presence and I threw them a half hearted smile before tapping Evan’s shoulder.

She spun round, the wig whipping the air as she turned and her blue eyes widened in surprise. I tried to ignore the fact that she suited the black turtle neck she wore all too well. “Seriously, Evan? You smoke Marijuana?” I scowled, “I know you’re weird, but I didn’t know you were stupid.”

Thankfully the stoned hippies in the corner were in too much of a good vibe to take any offence to my remark. A furrow appeared between her eyebrow and she curled her lip, “I was just talking to them.”

I grabbed her wool covered elbow and pulled her aside, out of the others’ earshot. “You don’t just go up and talk to random people like that,” I whispered, getting an intoxicating whiff of her apple shampoo. “Especially not people who are smoking weed in the corner of a sheltered parking lot.”

She pulled her arm away and growled, “Don’t act as though I’m a child.”

“You’re acting like one.”

“You sound like my mum,” she grunted.

“Well if that’s true, she must be a hell of a woman,” I joked, hoping to break the tension a little. It seemed to work. Although I could see her fighting it, a smile tugged at the end of her lips. “Just stay away from the crazies.”

She shrugged, “Wanna walk me to class and point out the other crazies of the school?” she asked, linking her arm around mine.

“Guess so,” I replied, “but I don’t usually go in until later.”

She threw a one shouldered shrug, leading me towards the door, “So you can be early for once.”

I glanced at my car, craving the badass feeling of being in deep thought whilst awesome music is banging through the speakers, making yourself feel as though you were in a movie. I wasn’t going to tell her that’s what I wanted to do, though.

“Just have to turn off my radio,” I consented.

***

One thing I learned about