"It's not me, it's you."
I couldn't believe this! Shane was really breaking up with me. We'd been going out for about a month now, and tomorrow was my birthday.
Not that it mattered, I was going to dump him as soon as I lost MY FREAKIN' VIRGINITY. Isn't it supposed to be easy? Aren't men supposed to have one track minds? I'll admit that I might not be the prettiest thing, and I am kind of boyish, I have short hair, a too round face, I'm shorter than average, smaller than average breasts, hips that look too big for my body... nevermind, I understand why boys won't sleep with me.
"Cut the bullshit Shane. We all know that's the most used breakup line on television. What did I do now? I'm sure I can make it up to you." I said without looking up from his piano, which was turned down low.
"Okay, Alex, I'll be honest. You're too cynical. You act like you don't care and you make too many jokes. I get that they're jokes but they sound so serious! I just don't think our personalities can work together."
Well duh, you have the IQ of a brick. I snicker aloud. Shane's body is smoking hot and everyone is aware of his particular skill set. He's the best choice I have to get rid of my virginity.
"Shane, sit down and shut up. We both know you're just trying to pick a fight."
"Alex, you're a real bitch. I'm glad I didn't sleep with you, who knows what kind of diseases I'd be affected with by now." He slams the door on his way out. It's his apartment and I know he'll figure it out soon enough.
I go to his room and grab my coat. I look up in the mirror and see a tinge of redness in my eyes. I snort at myself and leave the room.
~
I sigh as I return to the paint-chipped, off white door. Home sweet home. It's locked, as usual. I lean over and pull out a pick from my back pocket.
A quick glance side to side tells me no one is looking. I jimmy a few things and I'm in. The pick is replaced and I shut the door and lock it behind me.
"Hello?" I call into the silent apartment. In the week I've been gone I call tell things haven't been going too well. Take out boxes and beer cans litter the floor and coffee table. The lamp is busted and the couch has new, mysterious stains. My nose crinkles in disgust at an unknown smell.
I head to the closet that is my room and turn on the light. My solitary mattress in the corner is the only "bed" in the apartment with clean sheets. I have a plastic tub for my clothes, and a small table for anything else I may possess. A single outlet and a small wooden box shoved behind the plastic tub are the only other things in my room.
I take off my clothes and search for a clean towel. No luck. Hopefully no one comes home for a while so I can drip dry.
My shower is too cold and unpleasant, but at least it's running this week. I get through it as quickly as possible and shake like a dog to dry faster. I'm in my room trying to tame the fluffy mass of blonde that is my hair when the door has a solid knock shaking it on it's hinges.
I curse loudly, pulling clothes over my still wet skin, making them stick to my body. I stomp to the door and sling it open, prepared to yell at the unwanted intruder.
"You dropped these," says a very masculine voice that I know belongs to this broad chest in front of me. I look up and see a fantastic jaw, inky black, mussed up hair, smooth dark skin, raised eyebrows, a smirk, and a pair of the most alarmingly green eyes you've probably never seen. Upon closer inspection, there are definitely violet specks in them.
I realize he's holding up a pair of my underwear that I must've dropped on the way back from Shane's. I did stay there for 4 days, after all. They're the most sexual pair I own, blue lace with mostly strings. A deep red blush colors my face.
"Cute," he says, leaning in close. "So do you have a name, little lady?"
I hear a loud smack and I see his eyes widen in amusement and a little shock. I realize I've slapped him. It makes my embarrassment worse.
"I'm not fucking little," I say.