To We Or Not To We

860 11 0
                                    

For 2.8 weeks, Matty couldn’t keep his hands off me. He was on a Jenna bender. And aside from the fact that my Vagimatic was suffering some serious road burn, I was high on life. I was living those magical high school moments I’d only seen in movies. And like most ‘leading ladies,’ I wanted more. Not more boning. I wasn’t starting a lifelong battle with sex addiction. I just wanted more…intimacy.

Like the kind I had with Brian Palermo when we played doctor as kids. We didn’t do anything except flash our nips—which incidentally looked exactly the same—but I knew everything about Brian. Favorite color: brown. Sport: hockey. Food: toilet paper. Brian was weird. Seven years later, I was playing for real with a guy I knew nothing about.

Was it completely Old Testament of me to want to know stuff about the guy who had a platinum membership card for getting in my pants? I mean, I didn’t need to know his philosophical outlook on life or what he thought about Civil War, I just wanted to know…something.

Turns out we had a lot in common. Sort of. So after bonding over sex and our shared love of reptiles trained in martial arts specializing in sabotage, I couldn’t help but wonder if our sex made Matty and I a we? And were we going about things backwards? First the sex, then the relationship? Or were we just more interesting?

I wanted to know if we had any plans for the weekend, but for fear of seeming desperate, I asked him if he had plans. On second thought, I should’ve gone with the ‘we’—you know, the power of suggestion. But, Matty surprised me by totally taking the first step toward us being a we and telling me I should go to Lissa’s party.  It was all I needed to hear before he left. That and maybe a kiss to seal the deal…

Okay, so I guess we weren’t the type who kissed goodbye.

…Or maybe we were.

AWKWARD JENNA HAMILTON'S DIARYWhere stories live. Discover now