Read Online The Temptation of Lila and Ethan by Jessica Sorensen - Free Book Online
Authors: Jessica Sorensen
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The girl I lost and will never get back? The girl I walked away from, just left to shoot up? The girl who I wanted to know more than anything, but I missed my chance? Or should I just let her go? Release my guilt of walking away from her that day, just like that. Go around fucking girls, living life, doing whatever I want? Deep down I know I should have never walked away from her that day and that if I’d stayed instead of thinking solely of myself then things might have been different today. Perhaps I’d still be with her.
I can’t let her go yet—can’t let go of my guilt. I should just be alone. It’s for the best.
I end up skipping on sending back a text to Rae, knowingthat by doing so I’m allowing myself to continue to hold on to the idea of London and continue to think of Lila sitting up in her apartment in the hand towel at the same time.
My fucked-up thoughts are giving me a headache. “Shit,” I mutter, kicking the tire.
I really fucking need a drink.
Chapter Two
Lila
I’m sitting on the couch alone, wearing a towel, stunned and slightly ashamed of myself. I don’t know what the hell happened. Well, actually I do since it’s happened before, but it still doesn’t make it any easier. One minute Ethan’s hand was wandering up my thigh and it felt so good but then he just up and left, totally blowing me off, and it frustrates me because I
want
him. Badly.
Ever since I met Ethan, that’s how he’s been toward me. He’ll flirt with me all the time, yet for the most part he never acts on it, teasing me but never fully following through. I’m always hoping he’ll surprise me and finally do something, like show that he’s attracted to me. Something tells me that he might be a little different from the other guys I’ve slept with, sweeter, softer, or maybe rough, but in a good way. Usually, I’m strictly a collared shirt, slacks, nice car, money kind of girl. But there’s something about Ethan and the mysteriousness in his brown eyes, the intricate tattoos on his arms, and the wayhis black hair is always all over the place that makes me burn with curiosity. And part of me thinks that maybe, just maybe I’d finally feel something besides unworthiness and humiliation after I had sex with Ethan. Although, I’m really starting to wonder if I just have a broken vagina. And heart. And head.
After he leaves me high and dry, the two pills I popped before I took a shower quickly and fortunately kick in and everything—even being alone in my empty apartment after Ethan blew me off—feels okay. The pills keep away the memories and feelings of what happened last night, along with many other nights in my past. And not remembering them is important. Pain equals unwanted emotions, meltdowns, embarrassment. As much as I hate the blackouts the pills give me, I also hate temporary blackouts where bits and pieces come back to me in sharp, disgraceful images. All that does is remind me of what I’ve become and how empty and insignificant I feel inside. Sometimes it feels like my body doesn’t belong to me, like I lost it a long time ago and I’ll never get it back. I wonder if this is how everyone feels after sex. If they feel so dirty and unclean.
It does seem like I’ve been getting worse lately, but life seems to be getting harder. In the last year and a half my roommate and best friend moved out to go live her life and now I’m alone. I tried to stand up for myself to my parents, telling them I wouldn’t come home and live the life they want me to live, and in return my dad took away my car. A few months ago he also canceled all my credit cards and now I’m runningout of money and can’t even come up with enough to pay my tuition. Being poor isn’t something I think I can live with. So to escape the painful, shameful reality of how pathetic my life has become, I’ve started sleeping around more and downing more and more pills.
I first started taking the pills when I was fourteen because my
I can’t let her go yet—can’t let go of my guilt. I should just be alone. It’s for the best.
I end up skipping on sending back a text to Rae, knowingthat by doing so I’m allowing myself to continue to hold on to the idea of London and continue to think of Lila sitting up in her apartment in the hand towel at the same time.
My fucked-up thoughts are giving me a headache. “Shit,” I mutter, kicking the tire.
I really fucking need a drink.
Chapter Two
Lila
I’m sitting on the couch alone, wearing a towel, stunned and slightly ashamed of myself. I don’t know what the hell happened. Well, actually I do since it’s happened before, but it still doesn’t make it any easier. One minute Ethan’s hand was wandering up my thigh and it felt so good but then he just up and left, totally blowing me off, and it frustrates me because I
want
him. Badly.
Ever since I met Ethan, that’s how he’s been toward me. He’ll flirt with me all the time, yet for the most part he never acts on it, teasing me but never fully following through. I’m always hoping he’ll surprise me and finally do something, like show that he’s attracted to me. Something tells me that he might be a little different from the other guys I’ve slept with, sweeter, softer, or maybe rough, but in a good way. Usually, I’m strictly a collared shirt, slacks, nice car, money kind of girl. But there’s something about Ethan and the mysteriousness in his brown eyes, the intricate tattoos on his arms, and the wayhis black hair is always all over the place that makes me burn with curiosity. And part of me thinks that maybe, just maybe I’d finally feel something besides unworthiness and humiliation after I had sex with Ethan. Although, I’m really starting to wonder if I just have a broken vagina. And heart. And head.
After he leaves me high and dry, the two pills I popped before I took a shower quickly and fortunately kick in and everything—even being alone in my empty apartment after Ethan blew me off—feels okay. The pills keep away the memories and feelings of what happened last night, along with many other nights in my past. And not remembering them is important. Pain equals unwanted emotions, meltdowns, embarrassment. As much as I hate the blackouts the pills give me, I also hate temporary blackouts where bits and pieces come back to me in sharp, disgraceful images. All that does is remind me of what I’ve become and how empty and insignificant I feel inside. Sometimes it feels like my body doesn’t belong to me, like I lost it a long time ago and I’ll never get it back. I wonder if this is how everyone feels after sex. If they feel so dirty and unclean.
It does seem like I’ve been getting worse lately, but life seems to be getting harder. In the last year and a half my roommate and best friend moved out to go live her life and now I’m alone. I tried to stand up for myself to my parents, telling them I wouldn’t come home and live the life they want me to live, and in return my dad took away my car. A few months ago he also canceled all my credit cards and now I’m runningout of money and can’t even come up with enough to pay my tuition. Being poor isn’t something I think I can live with. So to escape the painful, shameful reality of how pathetic my life has become, I’ve started sleeping around more and downing more and more pills.
I first started taking the pills when I was fourteen because my
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