the Devil and the Sea

57| Jesus the savior

When I open my eyes, memories of last night immediately pierce my mind: me, Vincent, the warm wind, our lips, his hands, my moans...

I bury my face in the blanket as if someone might see me blush. I bite my lip so as not to laugh: it's funny to me because, on one hand, I can't believe what happened, and on the other, I feel a pleasant excitement inside.

A wave of inspiration covers my head.

I roll over onto the other side of the bed and look out the window.

What's next?

Yesterday I lost control of myself: lust took over my mind.

I sit across the bed with my back against the wall.

"Well, that's it, Victoria Gallardo, now you are my girlfriend," when I remember these words, everything inside me screams. My body shudders at the thought of seeing Vincent after last night.

Closing my eyes, I revisit last night; I savor every moment and catch myself thinking that now I am afraid of meeting Vincent again.

Fear locks me.

How will Vincent behave? Will everything be the same as before? What will he say? Will he come at all?

I must not let this night happen again. I'm starting to think he'd rather destroy me than I could hurt him.

All day I think about how last night will affect Vincent and me and find nothing comforting in my thoughts. I convince myself that I just obeyed the momentary desire, and this means nothing, both for him and for me. I'm pushing my crazy heartbeat to think I reacted this way to Vincent only because I haven't interacted with other guys besides Ricky for a long time.

Towards the evening, like a coward - exactly like a coward - I try to think of an excuse not to see Vincent. My thoughts are interrupted by a call, I grab the phone and, seeing that it's not Vincent, I'm upset, but still I put the phone to my ear.

"Hey Jesus."

What a good excuse to avoid Vincent.

"Hey baby, how are you? Busy tonight?" Says a cheerful voice on the other side of the phone, and I'm glad to hear it.

"No, I didn't plan anything," I lie.

"Then I'll pick you up in thirty minutes, be ready." He hangs up, not giving time to any objection, in his style.

It's strange that Jesus didn't scold me for ignoring his calls for so long and acted like we just talked yesterday.

Taking advantage of the situation , I go to the mirror and draw arrows on my eyelids. My thoughts keep returning to last night. The feel of Vincent's lips on my neck. The way he looked at my body. How his sizzling eyes and powerful hands made me feel like he needed only me.

When I finally get perfect make-up, the phone rings again, even though it's only been twenty minutes. I'm going to yell at Jesus for being so hasty, but as soon as I see Vincent's last name, my heart breaks.

I wait with trembling hands until Vincent hangs up the call. If I do not leave here at once, I will change my mind and, obeying my feelings, will run away to my death.

I can't let this happen.

I wear a black crop top and black denim shorts. I take a backpack, and, pulling on black sneakers, I run out of the house. Vincent calls again. My breathing stops.

What the hell is wrong with me?! Since when do I react like this to Vincent's calls? Before it was a pleasant excitement, now it is fear.

Ignoring the incoming call, I put my phone in my pocket and quicken my pace.