Big Gray: A Romantic Comedy (In The Dark Series Book 1) Page 3

  I straighten in my seat. I’m sure this is going to be interesting. This girl is something else, and my curiosity to get a better insight on her is totally new for me.

  “In high school I had a boyfriend. Tom and I were friends for years, before we started dating senior year. He was handsome, attentive, we did everything together … except … you know … had sex. He was really considerate and wanted to take things slow in that department … or at least so I thought … Anyhow, just before senior prom, I caught him cheating on me. In the locker room. With one of his soccer teammates. We had this long, honest conversation, and Tom admitted he was gay. And it wasn’t like he was confused and wanted to try it with a girl. He told me he knew since he was ten, and I was just the decoy girlfriend to hide the truth from his parents and his friends.

  “Don’t get me wrong. I am the furthest thing from a homophobe. Actually, I am very open-minded about people’s sexuality, and Tom knew it. My sister is seven years older than me, and she is a lesbian. She came out while she was in high school, and we are all proud of her for choosing to live a happy life and be true to who she really is. What hurt me about Tom was that he chose to lie to me and string me along for a year, knowing I would have been the one person who would understand. After that honest conversation, we went back to being friends. Tomas admitted the truth to his parents, and now he is openly dating the same guy he cheated on me with.

  “After I moved to LA, I wanted a new start, dating and all, but you can’t get over the insecurities easily. Tomas told me he never liked girls and confessed it was difficult for him to even kiss me. So, when I started dating, I was determined to make sure first and foremost the guys I go out with are physically attracted to me. I might have gone a little overboard and acted kind of crazy. One guy asked me out on a date, and I took him to Victoria’s Secret and almost modeled some underwear for him. All while I eyed his crotch to check if he had a boner. And it went on from there. If he checks my boobs, he is interested … Well, it’s no wonder it backfired. The last guy left my room angry, telling me I was a bad kisser, and a tease. All in the same sentence. Which one is it asshole?

  “I’ll have to stop testing and provoking guys, that’s for sure. The problem is I have no filter. I say everything that pops into my head, including the inappropriate stuff, and men think I am more open-minded than I am.”

  Wow! It seems like Red and I have a lot in common. I also made the same mistakes after Kelsey cheated on me in high school. I went after the groupies so I could repair my damaged ego and fill the void with meaningless sex. I needed the reassurance that girls wanted me. See where it got me? I am nothing but a player with a bad rep and a big dick. For Red, though, there is still hope. She is smart enough to realize this is a slippery slope.

  “Have you considered that you are going after the wrong type? A guy who can’t stop staring at your boobs is after one thing only, and that’s definitely not dating you. Sex with random people won’t make you feel desired. It will make you feel cheap and used. Trust me.”

  “Are you speaking from experience, Ten?” she ponders.

  I don’t know if I should tell her the truth. I like this girl, and I’m afraid she might hold it against me if I admit I was one of the guys I am advising her to avoid. So, I answer elusively.

  “I have a similar problem with girls. I am not considered boyfriend material either, for all sorts of superficial reasons. I am labeled unfairly, and it’s all that matters to people.”

  Red shifts on the couch. “Don’t let it affect you, Ten. You sound like a smart and funny guy, and if they can’t see it, they don’t deserve your time. This is what I tell myself too. This is why we are both here, right? No prejudice and biases. And I agree, sex is not going to fulfill my life. As you said, I’ll feel cheap …”

  “So, what? Are you still a virgin?” I blurt out my suspicion. Red snorts.

  “I don’t know,” she murmurs.

  “What do you mean you don’t know?” She is not making sense.

  “I’ve never had sex, but I am not sure I am a virgin. It’s another long story …”

  “Can’t wait to hear it! No judgment, I promise you. I am all ears.” I smile to myself, because this girl is totally my kind of nuts, and I know this is going to be good.

  “I am not a prude or anything … So, one night I was taking care of business and had BOB between my legs, totally enjoying the ride—”

  “Wait? Bob was a guy, right?” I ask.

  “No, BOB as in Battery Operated Boyfriend—a vibrator, Ten. I got him as a gag gift from my friend for my sixteenth birthday. Just listen. So, I was diddling the bud, but then I decided to be brave and try something new, so I slipped the tip in. It was all good … until my door flew open and my mother barged into my room. I got startled, my hand slipped, and I jammed him in hard. I was screaming, BOB was still buzzing loud between my legs, and my mom watched the whole scene, totally unfazed. She just shook her head, probably thinking I just reached the Big O, and walked out. Not before she told me not to forget to wash it with soap and water, because UTI’s suck. I was about to die of humiliation. It’s just so typical of my mother. Totally inappropriate. Honestly, I don’t know if I lost my virginity to BOB. It hurt like hell, but there was no blood. So …”

  I am dying. I am laughing, but I am also hard as rock. Red’s story is completely out there, and she is not even slightly daunted sharing intimate details about her masturbation practices. This girl is awesome. I can’t help but react like a guy when she tells me about her extracurricular activities with her vibrator. It’s a total turn-on, and Peanut jumps to attention immediately. My dick and I both have no idea what Red looks like, but it’s somehow completely irrelevant.

  “I’m glad my pain is so amusing to you, Ten,” Red says, but I feel from her tone that she is also smiling and not upset by my reaction.

  “Your mother sounds like mine. The embarrassing situations that woman put me through—you have no idea.” I change the subject. This is a safer topic than visualizing the details of Red’s relationship with her sex toy.

  “What did your mother do? I bet it can’t be worse than mine?” She nudges me with her elbow.

  “That’s where you are wrong. No one beats my mother on crazy. I remember when I was a freshman in high school. We were leaving for a game, and the whole team had boarded the bus. There I saw my mother running like a lunatic after the buses. Just before the driver shut the door, she stormed in, and walked over to my side. “Son,” she announced loudly, “you forgot your safety essentials.” Then she opened her purse and started pulling things and shoving them in my hands. My jockstrap first, then like a magic scarf … a long string of condoms, and to top it all off a bottle of lube. My teammates were watching me in horror, and some stared openly hooting. My mom turned sternly to them and patronizingly scolded them. ‘Safety is not a joke, boys. You need to protect the equipment, if you want it to serve you in the long run.’ I am not kidding you. You can imagine how much teasing I got after that. They called me ‘safety first’ for a long time.”

  Red is laughing too, at first, but then she stops abruptly.

  “I didn’t pin you as a jock, Ten. What sport did you play?” she asks.

  “Football. You don’t like athletes, I gather?” I can’t hide the disappointment in my tone. I want this girl to like me, so I lie. A small white lie, which is more like partial truth. “I am a computer science major, though. Football is just a hobby.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I know not all jokes are bad. I’ve hung with a lot of athletes in high school, and from my experience, most of them were players, so coming to college I had this AAA rule: avoid Athletes, Actors, and Artists,” she admits somberly.

  “So why the AAA rule? What’s wrong with actors and artists?” I ask to lighten the mood. It bothers me that Red has preconceptions about athletes, but maybe she has a point. I was called a player more than once.

  “I was in theater in high school, and I know actors. Th
ey are too much drama. Literally. Artists or musicians in general—they are more in touch with their feelings and emotional struggles than being interested in yours.”

  “You are totally wrong about musicians and actors.” I jump into the opportunity to change her mind. If I break her AAA rule, then I have a chance. “A few examples: John Cusack in Say Anything. Girls totally dig the serenade scene with the boom box, right? He was the furthest from being self-centered. He was totally devoted to his girlfriend. Or how about Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You? He sings to the girl so she agrees to go out with him. Should I keep going?”

  “Jesus, Ten, your knowledge of chick flicks is astounding,” she laughs. “But I get your point. I would totally fall for Heath if he was still alive. I also went little nuts at the Arctic Monkeys concert last summer. Alex Turner with that whole British accent and bad boy attitude made me cyberstalk him for a few weeks, so you are right … Actors and artists are total dreamboats. Anything you have to add about athletes? I don’t follow sports, so I am in the dark.”

  “All I got to say is athletes have stamina, babe,” I say this a bit cockily, but she asked.

  “Stamina, huh? I might have to go to a few games and see if someone has potential then,” Red contemplates out loud.

  YES! I am ready to shout and cheer. I totally have potential. Come to my games, please, Red. Stalk me all you want. I am totally out of my mind. Aren’t stalkers the source of all my troubles? The fact is I want Red to like me and my alter ego, Ten—not #BigGray.

  Like she can read my mind she says, “I am glad I came tonight. I thought by now I’d have an idea of who you are, but you are surprising me. You are smart but not socially awkward. You play sports, but you are not arrogant like a typical jock. Your parents embarrass you, like mine do. You also watch girl movies …”

  “Not willingly.” I am a bit defensive, but I don’t want her to think I like chick flicks. “I lived with an evil spawn of Satan, who never missed an opportunity to punish me with her choice of movie entertainment. She blackmailed me into watching so many ghastly chick flicks, I still have nightmares. You probably guessed; I have a sister. She’s eighteen and still heinous in her retribution when I go home for a visit. How she digs up dirt on me while I am away is beyond me, but she has some supervillain powers, I am telling you.”

  “But let me guess, you beat up anyone who looks at her the wrong way?” Red concludes with a chuckle.

  “You don’t mess with the Devil’s offspring, Red. I am saving those guys from eternity in hell. I know better.”

  Now she is laughing wholeheartedly, and it does something to me. I don’t know how long we’ve been talking, but I feel I can tell this girl my deepest secrets. She gets me.

  “I bet whoever came up with this idea about Parties Anonymous totally watched The Breakfast Club. People from different cliques finding common ground.” she contemplates.

  “Hmm … It was actually The Voice.” It slips out, but Red is quick to pick up on my unintentional admission.

  “What? Are you telling me you are the mastermind behind this operation?”

  “Please, don’t tell anyone. I am sure if the word gets around, I’ll be in some trouble. College authorities can pin this as some sort of brothel. As you can see it’s far from it.”

  I am rambling and sounding a bit desperate, but once again Red surprises me.

  “I think it’s an awesome idea, Ten. I am also not surprised. You said you are computer science major, so it makes sense you made a website. So how come you came up with this?”

  “It’s simple, Red. I wished I could be myself without people judging me by my looks. Girls especially.”

  “You aren’t attractive? So what? We are just so stupid sometimes.”

  I am not about to correct her assumption. Maybe it’s better she thinks I’m not good-looking. It’s more truthful if she likes me for my personality. I honestly don’t care at this moment what Red looks like, and I would totally date her. One hour in her company, and I am taken by this girl.

  “Ten, can you please kiss me?” she says out of the blue, and it shocks me. “Just a kiss. I came here because I let some jerk’s words affect me. I like you. I trust you’ll tell me the truth, if I am really a bad kisser, as that moron insinuated.”

  Like she has to ask. In one leap, I am on my knees in front of the couch. She is still lying on her stomach, but her head is on the armrest. I feel her shift and her breath close to my face. She smells like mint. I am totally not noticing the repellant smell any longer. She reaches for my face, and her soft fingers trace my jawline. She touches my sunglasses and then pulls them off. I didn’t want to be recognized when I walked into the building, and it was so dark in the room, I forgot to take them off. She puts the shades next to her on the pillow and keeps learning my face with her touch. I do the same.

  Her skin is soft and flawless. She has small straight nose and delicate bone structure. When my thumb traces her bottom lip, she sighs in a small breathy way, which gets me hard in an instant. I’ve never felt this level of intimacy before. It’s more arousing than any girl who has ever stripped for me or tried to seduce me. Red is innocent and perfect.

  I trace her full lip, just so I can hear her soft sighs again. When a breathy moan escapes her lips, I lean closer and cover her mouth with mine. I linger, exploring with soft nips and caresses, without deepening the kiss. Not yet. I am enjoying this moment and savoring the feel of her. My palms stay on her cheeks, and I keep her motionless. She is soft and absolutely enticing. There is no timidity to the way she responds. Red is right there with me, giving my mouth the same attention, with gentle strokes. I have no idea who moves first, but the kiss deepens. She opens up for me with a sharp intake of breath, and my tongue meets hers. The tenderness is suddenly replaced by hunger. The eroticism of the way we explore each other’s mouths is beyond any carnal act I’ve done. It’s more. I am in a state of arousal, which begs me to push further and find all the secrets this girl has, but at the same time I don’t want to stop kissing her. I can keep on doing just this for as long as she lets me.

  She pulls from me abruptly, and I almost fall backward. What? Why? I am about to reach and pull her back to me, but I feel her drift away. She is silent, but I can hear her heavy, uneven breaths. Red is as affected by this kiss as I am. It takes her a while to find her voice.

  “So, what’s the verdict?” she asks, a bit unsure.

  “Jesus, Red. Do you need to ask me? I … that kiss … damn girl. That guy was full of shit. Did you kiss him like that?”

  Do I totally sound jealous? I am so doomed. She probably thinks I am some creep who might follow her after she leaves and then sleep under her window or something.

  She laughs. “Honestly? No, I didn’t kiss him like that. He might have had a valid point. When we got to the kissing, I was already sick of his shit and wasn’t really into it. So, I have your stamp of approval?”

  “Hmm … before I give it, I might need further proof.” I lean back closer, but this time I am just kidding. I’m back to my old cocky self, and I tease her to see how she reacts.

  Red puts her palm to my face to stop me.

  “Don’t push it, Ten. I better get going, before it gets awkward between us. This is usually the moment with my dates where things go bad.”

  “The difference being that this is not a date,” I correct her.

  “And maybe this is why I like you. Dates are so much unnecessary pressure to act like someone you are not. Anyway, it’s late and I might need another dose of Benadryl. My ass is still inflating.”

  “Okay, go before you get stuck in here and can’t pass through the door.” I take her hand in mine and help her stand. She is not short, but she barely comes up to my chin. I’m tempted to wrap my arms around her and embrace her in a hug—more like get a feel of how her body fits to mine—but I don’t want to scare her. I want Red to trust me enough to come here again. I am finally a true believer that this will work. When she knows me,
she might get over the stigma of Big Gray.

  “So, are you coming tomorrow?” I ask hopefully. It’s the last day set for a meeting of the anonymous before winter break. I have a huge final I need to study for, but if Red’s here, I’ll be here too.

  “Bummer. I need to study …” She echoes my thoughts exactly. “How about after break? I am going home for the holidays.”

  “Where is home?” I can’t help but ask.

  “Seattle. You?”

  “I’m local. Long Beach.”

  “So, it was great to meet you, Ten. Good luck with finals and have a fun break.” She lets go of my hand, and that’s when I realize I was still holding hers. Something feels amiss as I let her go.

  “Wait,” I yelp before she is gone.

  I stumble back to the chair I was sitting on and reach for my bag. I can’t see shit in the dark, but I manage to find a notebook and a pen. I scribble my phone number and rip the page off. I fold the paper, hoping I managed to write legibly without sight.

  I take the few steps back to Red and shove the paper in her hand.

  “If you get bored during break, text me,” I tell her.

  “I might.” She sounds like she is smiling.

  Then just like that, Red lifts up on her tiptoes and gives me a peck on the lips. But before I can blink, she is gone.

  4

  Melanie

  Finals week is behind me. I feel tired, but being home with my family and catching up with old friends is just the thing I need to recharge my batteries. Still, I miss the sunny California weather in December. Seattle is freezing ass cold, and I had to search for my old coat, which I never packed with me for college. I hate that thing. I wish I was somewhere on a beach, wearing a bikini.

  I keep wondering what Ten is up to during break. It’s weird I don’t have any idea who this guy is, and yet I can’t stop thinking about him. The moment I walked into the dark room, I was drawn to his voice like a bee to flowers. He sounded masculine, and I have to admit his low, husky laughter was sexy as hell. It had been the most bizarre day, but meeting Ten made it so much better. It’s strange to find someone as weird as you, who gets your sense of humor, and seems to like you, not for your looks, but for your quirkiness.