Discovering Spencer

16. The talk

It had been two weeks, two whole weeks with Logan and so far they were the most meaningful two weeks of my life. We barely talked when we were together. We didn’t need to because the chemistry between us was electric, magnetic rather.

During the grueling school hours we snuck into places to make out. We’d go to the bleachers in the morning, snuck into the janitors ‘closet in between classes, on the days he’d skipped class to come to my lunch, we’d skip lunch altogether so we could go to his car. It was fun and there was something about knowing that we could get caught that made it better.

The make out sessions always escalated into something more. My body was always ahead of my heart, so quick to surrender to his expert moves but my heart always won stopping him just as he was about to do something unexpected. He never protested with me when I’d stop him but I could tell he was growing frustrated. As much as I liked him, I wasn’t ready for sex yet and I didn’t know when I would be.

On the long nights I couldn’t sleep I got to thinking about it. There would be a day where I would have to eventually give in and do it. He was a guy; guys wanted that, he wanted that. He had prior experiences and according to Quinn the more experiences one has the more they craved it. Our relationship just started so he understood my reluctance but what would happen when he reached his precipice and I still refuse him. Would he go get it somewhere else? I couldn’t, like, bear the thought.

Earlier today we were alone in the smokers lounge. He was smoking and I was leaning against the rusty railings watching him smoke when I asked him about how many girls he’d been with. He cocked his head to the side, pursed his lips and vaguely said, “a few.”  

“How many is a few?” I persisted.

“Three,” he said and I believed him.

I felt a pang of jealousy and hatred towards the girls he’d been with but I wanted to know more.

“Were you romantically involved with all of them?”

“Only one,” he said flicking the butt of his cigarette.

“So the other two were just….random hookups?”

He shrugged, “You could say that.”

“Do I know any of them?”

I was shocked by his confession but I didn’t want to let it show. I began biting my nail to hide my reaction. Seventeen years old, he was only seventeen years of age and already he was randomly hooking up with girls, now that was something I couldn’t bear.

“Hey,” he said, wrapping his long arms around my waist. “Those girls meant nothing to me.” Then he kissed me, he tasted like cigarette smoke and I forced myself to kiss him back because I didn’t like it, I didn’t like it at all.

♥♥♥

That afternoon I was home sitting comfortably on the living room couch where Logan and I first kissed, reading Ethan Frome when the doorbell rang.

“Spencer can you get that,” I heard my dad called from “his office”

I groaned slapping the book on the table. I walked slowly and lazily to the front door. When I opened it, a bright pink haired Quinn stood in front of the porch biting her nails.

“Quinn,” I said a bit surprised__ well because I was surprised to see her. “What are you doing here?”

She lurched towards me with a face splitting grin. “I was freakishly bored out of my mind and somehow I wounded up here.”

“What did you do to your hair?”

She ran a hand through it, “Like I said I was bored.”

“I like it,” I said.