"If obsession were a person, it'd be you."
A street racer by evening, and a high-school student by day, 17 year-old Ola Sainz is forced to move to Los Angeles with her mother, where she crosses path with a typical California teenage boy.
Theo Lauder...
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Dinner had ended twenty minutes ago and I had no trouble concealing the fresh gash on my face with a thick coverage foundation. Ricardo had abruptly left for a trip, leaving Grandma, Mom, and I, alone in the house.
Now, I was standing in the warm shower for my nightly routine, tracing gentle circles on my skin before finishing off with a scented lavender shower gel.
Shaking water droplets off my body, I soon emerge from the cubicle, accompanied by the fog that begins to obscure the full-body mirror in front of me. I wouldn't call myself a narcissist, but the way my gaze would automatically wander around my body in the mirror was more of a habit I developed over time.
To an outsider, doing 360 spins and weird poses in the bathroom as if I were on a catwalk may appear strange, but I'm sure many girls can relate more than they admit. If boys can post post-workout selfies on social media without getting criticized for it, this was nothing.
I dry the rest of my body and slather lotion all over my shaved arms and legs whilst twisting my damp hair in a towel.
Normally, I wouldn't even consider shaving for such occasions, but I loved how it felt afterward. It's indescribable. I love the sensation of rolling around on fresh sheets. Though I wasn't going straight to bed tonight, but rather to an after-party at someplace I have yet to know.
When I've successfully dried my hair and styled it with my natural waves, I tip-toed around my room with a towel securely wrapped around my chest and reached for a pair of undergarments, furrowing my brows when I don't find ones that matched.
The time that I look for it, I can't seem to find it.
Frustratedly, I pull out the best ones that caught my eye at first glance and put them on, not wanting to dwell on something so trivial. It's not like I'm expecting anything to happen at the party. As I always say, I'm always up for a good time, and it doesn't always have to involve sexual acts. My fingers and my imagination does an excellent job, even better than the previous guys I have been with in the past.
More times, the girls did it even better. I had no preference, as long as I enjoy it.
To me, pleasure is pleasure. With the right person, it's magical. Though I have yet to know what it feels like in a deeper sense — being with someone you truly like and want to be with in the long term. Someone you won't mind experiencing over and over again and never getting tired of because every time would feel like the first time. Different and special.
That's how I imagine it in my head. Instead of red and a fiery pit of vermilion, I imagine it as frolly and mavelous, with my cheeks flushed against taut skin, mellow beneath pillars of pillows, and bunched up strands of hair. Shadows and rough ridges of muscles and spines. The kind of bodies that Greek sculptors would have created; Renaissance painters would have painted.
