ℂ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℕ𝕖𝕠𝕟 𝔾𝕝𝕠𝕨 ➃

12. Something Worthy - ✭ Monica ✭

After our trip to the wax museum, sensing my new infatuation with Elvis, Boston had planned for us to go to Memphis. I had never really cared too much for this part of the country, or anything really country related in general, but with Boston it was fun. He'd put on some of Elvis' songs as we'd driven to 'The King of Rock and Roll's' place of rest.

What should've taken us three and a half hours ended up taking us five. The construction and traffic almost made me pee my pants. Thank God I didn't. I'd never live that down.

The second night in Nashville was much less eventful than the first. Both of us were thoroughly exhausted from a full day of activities. I can't even remember the last time I had had so much fun. I felt carefree and weightless as we went from tourist spot to tourist spot.

I posted some photos of our excursion on social media and instantly regretted it. I was bombarded with text messages and phone calls from friends. They were all asking who my new 'hot' boyfriend was and what happened between Carter and I.

Did you cheat on Carter?

Have you slept with that hottie?

Wait, aren't you supposed to be in school?

Who is this new guy, Monica?

None of which I answered because thinking I'd just up and leave because I cheated on my boyfriend was insanity. Right? Right. This new version of myself is on the brink, that's for sure. At least everyone would think I was if I told them the actuality of the situation, how it came to be.

Marcella's questions set my cheeks aflame every time I read them. All of them were disgustingly dirty. I don't know what had gotten into me but I'd told her what had transpired between the two of us. The showers. The night of separate but mutual pleasure. I didn't even know her but her nonjudgemental mentality made me trust her. She thought what had happened was 'hot as fuck'. She went into the 'intense chemistry' we seemed to have and that's when I'd stopped responding.

The person enraged by my photos with Boston— Carter. Furious was not even the word. The hurtful texts I received from him made me silent his text messages. They made me feel terrible and I didn't want to feel anything but what Boston had been continually make me feel— exhilarated, weightless, like a bird taking flight for the first time. It was a bit scary, but I can't seem to get enough of those feelings, the sensations I feel when I'm around him.

Carter was hardly one to talk either. He'd posted drunk photo after drunk photo with his roommates, and several beautiful girls, at the fraternity. He was all smiles in every photo and yet he chastised me for smiling in pictures with Boston. It's silly really and was a complete double-standard. Though I had added Boston on social media and tagged him in our pictures as well. He'd also commented on the majority of them talking about what a great time he'd had with me. That was probably what got right under Carter's skin.

Absently I have been scrolling through Boston's photos. It is almost entirely filled with pictures of his magnificent artwork, because that is the only thing you could call the tattoos he did. He would draw out these amazing pieces and I have watched clip after clip of time-lapsed drawings completely enthralled. The amount of talent he has left me awestruck.

Eyeing a particular beautiful black and white piece of birds on a woman's thin arm, I felt a slight itch. I want something that beautiful to adorn my skin. I want his artwork on my body in such a fashion. How he is only twenty and already so skilled, talented is beyond me.

I look over to him on the bed next to me. He's relaxed, arm propped behind his head as he watches the action-packed film on the screen. Since he's shirtless, I can completely admire the intricate ink on his upper body. It's all over him, even inching up his neck to his chin.