Underage

[8] Long Talks and Evil Plans

Underage
[8] Long Talks and Evil Plans

I sigh and kick the door shut. It slams harder than I intended it to but I pay no attention to the boy lying on my couch. His eyes are trained on me as I set my purse down onto the chair and walk into my room. I kick off my jeans and switch them for pajama pants, then relieve myself of my bra and throw on a clean shirt. When I turn around, Ethan is leaning against the wooden frame of my door. His body takes up the entire doorway so that if I wanted to leave, I would have to brush by him to do so.

I roll my eyes. The boy makes no move towards me and doesn't open his mouth to say anything. So, instead, I retreat towards my bed. He follows me, but instead of slipping under the comforter like I did, he plops himself down onto the white desk chair at the foot of my bed. His eyes linger on the red lingerie that's been pushed to the side of my desk.

"I should have had you wear this last night," he says. He picks up the two pieces of lace and tosses them towards me. "Or, you could put them on now and we could go a round or two?"

Instead of answering I push the lingerie off the bed and onto the floor. He watches the gift fall to the floor, before his green eyes find mine.

"I think you may need more than two rounds to get that stick out of your ass. Seriously, Shaw, why are you so mad at me? Your period didn't come early this month, did it? Because my calendar says I still have a week."

This makes me laugh. "You still have a week."

He lets out a relieved sigh, "At least I got you to laugh. Seriously, Thea, why are you mad at me? You haven't been this mad at me since the epic hair-dyeing disaster of sophomore year."

I can laugh about it now, but when I was sixteen it wasn't as funny. "You dyed my hair orange," I say. "I cried myself to sleep that night. It would have been better if it were pink or blue, but I could not pull off orange."

"You're right about that," he says. Ethan stands from the desk chair and climbs into bed next to me. He lifts the blankets and slips beneath. Although, he doesn't wrap his arms around me like he usually does. Instead, he turns on his side so that he's facing me and I do the same. There's a foot of space in between us and I look into his eyes. My mind flickers back to last night but I shake away the thoughts.

"You were so mad at me, you screamed and yelled until you couldn't talk for two days. I had to go and buy you cough drops. At least then I knew why you were mad at me. Now, I have no idea. I preferred the screaming."

"But the screaming does nothing to solve it."

"It makes you feel better," Ethan says. "Now, yell at me."

"I'm not going to yell at you," I say. "You know, my mom once told me that girls are fragile creatures and it doesn't take much to offend us. And I found out just how right she is. I don't care that you kiss other girls, that doesn't mean anything to me. But what bothers me is that you can go from getting in my pants to almost getting into hers within twelve hours."

"It wasn't even like that." he defends himself, but I'm not hearing any of it. I saw them with my own eyes and I saw him kissing her back. There was no way she caught him off guard, or any of that bullshit he would spew my way.

"I don't care, Ethan. I've known what you're like all throughout these years, and still I play this stupid game. You sleep with who you want, but I never pegged you as a slut."

"A slut?"

"I don't think you deserve 'man-whore,' it doesn't fit as well," I tell him. "Maybe you and Lauren deserve each other. I mean, what more could a slut want than another slut? At least you'll get your fill."