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"You left me! You fucking left me!" Tiffany screamed from the other side of the door.
Janae had locked it out of habit, not wanting her roommate to come barreling in, thinking that it was the bathroom. She had done that on a few occasions; drunk, or high. Janae was never sure what kind of state her friend would be in upon her return—it varied from night to night.
What had began as soft knocks and encouraging coaxes had turned into yelling from Janae's lack of response. Tiffany kicked the bottom of the door, sliding down the surface until ultimately crumbling to the floor.
"Bitch." Tiffany spoke low, but loud enough for Janae to hear.
Janae rolled her eyes, tired of Tiffany's pity party. She had done nothing wrong—there was nothing to apologize for. Tiffany had insisted she call a cab to get home, but Janae knew that she was probably too drunk to remember now.
She threw the duvet off her lap, hurling herself out of the bed while stomping toward the door. Janae didn't think twice before throwing the door open—the swift motion causing Tiffany to fall back into the bedroom.
"You're the bitch—you told me to call a cab! You told me to leave!" Janae didn't hold back; she grew even more angry at the sight of Tiffany laughing—her eyes hazy, reeking of alcohol and an earthy musk—sex.
"I told you to wait." Tiffany argued, sprawling out in the floor drunkenly. Her limbs looked unnatural—limp, but lively. Her little satin black dress was disheveled, bunched at the bend of her waist, revealing that she was wearing a thong.
"I did wait—I waited forty-five minutes for you."
"Don't be mad at me... You just scared me." Tiffany tried sitting up, but lied back in the floor, defeated by the alcohol coursing through her system.
"Scared? How did I scare you?" Janae's eyes furrowed in disbelief while looking down at the drunken mess.
"I didn't think you'd have the lady balls to actually leave. When Mitchell said he hadn't seen you, I knew you'd left, and... where was I going with this?" Tiffany's eyes closed as if thinking, but it was obviously her intoxication level.
Janae slipped her foot under the crook of Tiffany's neck, gently pushing her away from the threshold to close the door. "Go. Away." Janae growled, slamming the door closed.
For six months, Janae had tolerated Tiffany's wild antics. Her promiscuity was fun to watch from the sidelines in the beginning of their move to the big city. But over time, that unruly unpredictability became predictable, and exasperating. Janae's opportunities to have a good time were squashed because of her reckless "friend." Although it was fine her roommate was a slut, the dangers of her behavior had spilled into Janae's personal life—she felt responsible for Tiffany.
"Forgive me for trying to show you how to have a good time. I practically lined that dick up between your legs and you just fucking... walked out!" Tiffany chastised her from the other side of the door—her voice muffled, her speech slurred.
Janae closed her eyes tightly in an attempt to refrain from blurting out the obvious.
She had held onto her virginity; kept it when everyone else seemed to be giving theirs away. She had her reasons in the beginning, but now her V-card was simply an inconvenience. Now, she was crippled by fear of losing it to the wrong person. Janae had had many takers, sure, but she saw none fit to claim the only thing she had to offer.
She thought of what that roguishly handsome boy had told her, that she simply looked too reserved. He wasn't wrong—it was because Janae was. She couldn't afford to find herself in any awkward predicaments with men—what she was hiding would be revealed.
There was a stigma to her innocence; it was something that some guys wanted and other guys wouldn't dare dabble with—guys like Michell Humphreys that would gladly take it just to brag with his buddies about. Janae didn't want to give it away to just anyone, she wanted it to be with someone she cared for—someone that cared for her. But having Tiffany in her inner circle made it difficult to form any kind of connection with the opposite sex. Guys were too busy trying to get up Tiffany's skirt to even notice the loyal, fun-loving brunette in the corner just trying to fit in.
Janae had to face the music—if she wanted to revoke her V-card, she was going to have to lower her standards. She was never going to establish a committed relationship with a boy—not with Tiffany around.
Tiffany was more than just eye candy, she actually put out. Not only that, she had a way with men. She could talk to them—manipulate them into doing anything she wanted. It was fascinating to see with her own eyes, but also a bit troubling. Janae could barely keep a conversation going, let alone talk a guy into dumping his girlfriend over the phone before jumping in the sack with him. Janae recalled the amusement dancing in Tiffany's eyes—the thrill of being wanted by someone so badly that impulsivity outweighed logic.
Janae often wondered about what happened between that stranger and his girlfriend, but she never saw him again after the next morning.
The reality was simply this, Janae could not compete with Tiffany. Not that she would ever want to, she simply just wanted a boyfriend—a stable relationship with a man that wasn't her father.
"Jay... Jay?" Tiffany spoke through the door, voice rough with sleep. "I'm sorry. Don't be mad at me... I love you."
