Memories That Still Haunt Us

Chapter Twenty-One:

Iris is waiting for me at the bar. I'm already running late. Quickly, I slip into my mini black dress that accentuates my curves, making my boobs and ass look magnificent. I call for an Uber as I finish applying my red lipstick.

            I'm somewhat surprised I haven't received a needy text from Lake today, wishing me a happy birthday and reaching for any crumb I might give him. This is the longest he's gone. I can't say I'm not slightly disappointed. But I know it's for the best. What I was doing to him was cruel. He was so delicately wrapped around my finger, like a desperate dog yearning for its owner's approval. It had always been that way with him, even when we first met. Despite him being the hottest guy at school, with girls trying and failing miserably to get his attention, he only wanted me. I wasn't interested, and it drove him mad.

            I turned down his embarrassing attempt to ask me to homecoming. I pretended I didn't remember his name for the longest time. I even kissed his best friend at a party and made sure he saw it. It was fun. It was exciting to see the most wanted guy at school gravel for my attention. Even when we were finally together, I still messed with his head constantly, even if I didn't fully mean to. I was only ever partially invested. My eyes were elsewhere; my mind focused on something else.

            Poor Lake. Always caring and loving me.

            My Uber alerts me that they're here, and I quickly slip on my black heels and make my way out of the guest house, locking it behind me. My eyes glance up at the house. The light in their bedroom is on. I imagine Ellis up there, stepping out of the shower. Water glistening on his chest as he wraps a towel around his waist. Curls dripping water on the floor. Mirror fogged up.

            I look away and move as swiftly as my heels will allow me down the driveway and towards the car waiting on the curb for me. When I slip inside, I'm irritated to see a middle-aged man driving the vehicle.

            I feel his eyes on me in the rearview mirror. "Fun plans tonight?" He asks.

            I gnaw on my tongue. Crossing one leg over the other, I scoot closer towards the window. "Yes, it's my birthday." I tell him.

            "No way? Happy Birthday! How old are you turning? Or is that rude to ask?"

            Allowing myself to look at him more closely, I'm immediately grossed out by him. His fat stomach that hangs over the seatbelt. The way he licks his lips as he looks back at me. A large mole is positioned in the middle of his cheek. I imagine sleeping with him. How happy he would be. It would be the highlight of his life. I'd crawl to the front of the car, straddle his lap, and attempt to find his penis underneath his fat belly. I bet he stinks. He's most likely full of hair.

            Married or not, he'd easily succumb to my advantages. He'd swear to me, ravish me, tell me how beautiful I am. I'd be the figment of his imagination long after I leave this car. He'll touch himself at the thought of me. My face appearing in his dreams.

            I smile at him and his face lights up. "Twenty."

            He squirms slightly in his seat. "Wow." He licks his lips again, like he's imagining tasting me now. "Still so young. You have all your twenties ahead of you. Is your boyfriend meeting you tonight?"

            A lame attempt at figuring out my dating status. It's embarrassing, really. I smooth out my dress, pulling it further down my thighs. "Yes," I lie. "He has a whole night planned for us."

            I see the slight disappointment in his eyes. Not that it makes a difference to him. He'd still touch me if given the chance. "Lucky guy." He says and pulls up by the bars.