they zoomed by.
Orgasms of that sort required some digestion. There was no diving into normal conversation right after something like that. I continued to stare onto the long road ahead, paying attention to nothing in particular until finally we arrived.
Before I knew it, Eric parked the car and I had to fix myself. I expected my face to look much worse. My face had remained relatively intact. My mascara and eyeliner had run just a smidgen. Both were easily fixed and I added another layer of lip gloss.
"There. Like new," I said taking the last few glances into the tiny mirror.
We walked straight into the club and handed over our ID's. Our friends were already there, in addition to already drunk.
I walked straight to the dimly - lit bar and ordered a shot of Tequila. The music was too loud of course and neon lights beamed streams of red, blue, and green in a million directions at once. I took my shot and signaled for another.
Yeah, maybe this wasn't a bad idea after all. People relied on sex and alcohol to relieve stress and admittedly I was no different. I had no aversion to alcohol. But I’d say my idea of good sex was a bit taboo. Body parts swung left and right as I downed the second shot and made my way towards Eric and the rest of our group.
We danced to the never ending music and took shots as they came our way. It was fun. Bodies moved all around us, some in unison and others, not so much. The urge to kill never once came to the surface. I had Eric to thank for that.
After a few hours of shots, dancing, and then more shots, I somehow made it to my bed in one peace. Finally, I got some of that much needed rest.
Chapter 12
Friday morning hangovers. Just another one of college life's simple pleasures th at I couldn’t say I missed. Why oh why did I drink that much? I asked myself this very question after every night out, and I mean every night without fail. Of course, I silently and often-times loudly, promised myself to never drink again. I repeatedly lied to myself therefore, repeatedly suffered in vain.
But today was different. I simply did not have the luxury to sit here and nurse a headache alongside crippling stomach spasms. Whoever sent those notes was coming for me within the next 24 hours.
Was I prepared? I wasn't sure what it was that I needed to prepare. Would they come to my house to chit chat? I highly doubted it. But what other option was there? Perhaps they wouldn't come at all. Maybe they would call...Did they even have my phone number? They obviously wanted my attention. Well, they had it.
Every possibility I entertained seemed to become more and more unfeasible. I was traveling the path least taken. I was in no man's land. For all I knew someone was coming to kill me. Or maybe something more sinister was in store for me.
Nothing in my head made any sense. The irritating thoughts wouldn’t give me a break. Where was that fucking off button?
I turned over and found Eric, sound asleep next to me. He clutched his pillow tight while crouched down into the fetal position. He was so adorable when he slept.
I tip toed out of the bedroom to make myself some badly needed coffee. I went to open the door to retrieve the morning paper when I spotted the black box on top of my coffee table in the living room.
My internal alarm system went off. Warning. Warning. "What- the- fuck?" I whispered. Normally, a package sitting on my coffee table wouldn't be cause for concern. I shopped online regularly. But today of all days...Aside from the fact that I had not recently placed any order, this box raised a flag. Hell, it raised a lot of flags.
My head tilted to the right as I inched closer to the big black box. It appeared to be made of the same material that the previous envelopes had been. The box was silky smooth. It looked big enough to maybe fit a basketball snugly.
I held the box and my nerves started to kick in. It could be a bomb. I probably shouldn't open it. Dramatic, I know. Then again, why
Orgasms of that sort required some digestion. There was no diving into normal conversation right after something like that. I continued to stare onto the long road ahead, paying attention to nothing in particular until finally we arrived.
Before I knew it, Eric parked the car and I had to fix myself. I expected my face to look much worse. My face had remained relatively intact. My mascara and eyeliner had run just a smidgen. Both were easily fixed and I added another layer of lip gloss.
"There. Like new," I said taking the last few glances into the tiny mirror.
We walked straight into the club and handed over our ID's. Our friends were already there, in addition to already drunk.
I walked straight to the dimly - lit bar and ordered a shot of Tequila. The music was too loud of course and neon lights beamed streams of red, blue, and green in a million directions at once. I took my shot and signaled for another.
Yeah, maybe this wasn't a bad idea after all. People relied on sex and alcohol to relieve stress and admittedly I was no different. I had no aversion to alcohol. But I’d say my idea of good sex was a bit taboo. Body parts swung left and right as I downed the second shot and made my way towards Eric and the rest of our group.
We danced to the never ending music and took shots as they came our way. It was fun. Bodies moved all around us, some in unison and others, not so much. The urge to kill never once came to the surface. I had Eric to thank for that.
After a few hours of shots, dancing, and then more shots, I somehow made it to my bed in one peace. Finally, I got some of that much needed rest.
Chapter 12
Friday morning hangovers. Just another one of college life's simple pleasures th at I couldn’t say I missed. Why oh why did I drink that much? I asked myself this very question after every night out, and I mean every night without fail. Of course, I silently and often-times loudly, promised myself to never drink again. I repeatedly lied to myself therefore, repeatedly suffered in vain.
But today was different. I simply did not have the luxury to sit here and nurse a headache alongside crippling stomach spasms. Whoever sent those notes was coming for me within the next 24 hours.
Was I prepared? I wasn't sure what it was that I needed to prepare. Would they come to my house to chit chat? I highly doubted it. But what other option was there? Perhaps they wouldn't come at all. Maybe they would call...Did they even have my phone number? They obviously wanted my attention. Well, they had it.
Every possibility I entertained seemed to become more and more unfeasible. I was traveling the path least taken. I was in no man's land. For all I knew someone was coming to kill me. Or maybe something more sinister was in store for me.
Nothing in my head made any sense. The irritating thoughts wouldn’t give me a break. Where was that fucking off button?
I turned over and found Eric, sound asleep next to me. He clutched his pillow tight while crouched down into the fetal position. He was so adorable when he slept.
I tip toed out of the bedroom to make myself some badly needed coffee. I went to open the door to retrieve the morning paper when I spotted the black box on top of my coffee table in the living room.
My internal alarm system went off. Warning. Warning. "What- the- fuck?" I whispered. Normally, a package sitting on my coffee table wouldn't be cause for concern. I shopped online regularly. But today of all days...Aside from the fact that I had not recently placed any order, this box raised a flag. Hell, it raised a lot of flags.
My head tilted to the right as I inched closer to the big black box. It appeared to be made of the same material that the previous envelopes had been. The box was silky smooth. It looked big enough to maybe fit a basketball snugly.
I held the box and my nerves started to kick in. It could be a bomb. I probably shouldn't open it. Dramatic, I know. Then again, why
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