His tattooed arm is draped over my waste.
I shiver.
What the hell did I do last night?
He was one of them. Popular.
Porter Davis, to people like me. The middle class of Green Creek High School.
Port, to his kind. The high class beautiful people.
His eyelashes are a dark brown and rest gently against his freckled face, fluttering every time he lets out a deep snore.
His eyes flutter open and I quickly shut mine.
Porter yawns. And pulls me closer. Against his chest.
I take in the masculine scent of minty deodorant and sweat. Then hold my breath when he chuckles.
"I know you're awake Gem."
Porter Davis knows my name? Did I tell him that last night? My memory is fuzzy. All I remember is a lot of kissing.
I inhale and exhale slowly and deeply, as if to prove I'm asleep.
"Sooo if you're asleep, I guess I can do this..."
Porter's fingers delicately push my dark brown bangs out of my face, trailing his fingers down my cheek, and over my lips.
"Open your eyes." He whispers.
Against my better judgement, I comply to find my self staring into the most beautiful green eyes I've ever seen.
"So how'd you sleep?" He asks, as if the situation isn't completely awkward.
But maybe it isn't. Maybe I'm only making it awkward.
"Um, good...um, did we sleep together yesterday?" I blurt out.
Porter blushes a bit and then covers it up with a smirk.
"Um, well I slept in this bed. And you slept in this bed. Soooo yeah. I guess we did. By the way, you snore. Like really loud." He jokes.
"I'm serious. I need to know."
He sighs. "Wow. This is awkward. Okay. We didn't sleep together, in that way you're suggesting at least. You wanted too. But we just made out."
I'm confused.
"Wait, I wanted to...do it...and you didn't? That is sooo embarrassing."
I sit up and throw the cover to the side, quickly jumping off the bed.
"Where is my shirt?" I mutter.
Porter gets out too and stands by the edge of the bed, about four feet from me.
"Uhhhh by the closet."
I sneak a glance at him. At his chiseled abs and naked torso. I then notice his Calvin Klein underwear and roll my eyes.
What a fuckboy. I know I'm not blonde. And I don't have a curvy figure. But am I that unattractive? Because I'm pretty okay with how I look.
"Thanks."
"Listen. It's not that I just, didn't want to do it. Trust me, I wanted it-you. I wanted you."
I ignore the whole 'I wanted it/you' and pull my shirt over my head.
"Well if you wanted to, then why didn't you?"
I button my jeans and slip on my shoes.
When he doesn't answer, I make my way to the door. That's enough humiliation for today, thank you very much.
Porter grunts and runs after me. He grabs my hand and turns me to him.
"I'm a virgin." He says.
Awkwardly, I look anywhere but at him. I feel terrible for thinking he was a fuckboy. For believing every terrible rumor I've ever heard about him.
"Do you wanna go out sometime? Maybe we could go bowling or something."
"How do you know my name?" I ask.
He scoffs and shakes his head as if I've asked the stupidest question in the world.
"We've gone to school together for like, eight years. Don't you know mine?"
"Of course. Porter Davis."
Porter laughs.
"Call me Port."
I turn my head to face him and smile.
"Now, bowling?"
