Who Can Really Blame You?

“So,” Adler says as we enter his neighborhood, having already dropped off the girls.

“Yeah?” I ask.

“Are you gay?” he asks.

“Yes,” I sigh, “But I have a boyfriend so I won’t ass rape you.”

“I didn’t think you would. I’m cool with it, but I just wanted to be sure,” he replies, “Turn left here.”

I flip on my signal and turn onto his street.

“Well I’m glad you’re cool with it,” I reply, “I’m assuming you’re straight?”

He nods.

“It’s this one,” he says, pointing to a house on the right. I pull over, and he climbs out.
“Thanks, Ains,” he says, “See you next class!”

“Bye,” I call out the open window, and pull off from the curb and head home.

I smile at Mitchell when I see him waiting outside my door.

“Hey,” I say, and give him a quick kiss on the cheek before I open my door.

He enters without saying a word.

“What’s up?” I ask him.

“Why do you smell like cologne?” he asks, “That’s not your smell.”

“I guess its Adler’s. I gave him a ride home from school,” I reply, feeling a nervous jitter build up in my stomach.

“That’s not all you gave him is it?” he asks, crossing his arms. I sigh.

“He’s straight, Mitchell,” I tell him.

“Straight guys experiment too,” he says lowly.

“Well I don’t,” I reply, moving past him into the living room, “I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Me neither,” he sighs, “I’m sorry.”

I turn to him with a smile.

“No worries,” I reply, standing on my toes to give him a quick kiss.

“You didn’t have to do all of this,” I say to Mitchell after I see what he’s been planning while I was in classes. He made dinner and brought me a ton of not scary movies for us to watch after we eat.

“I did,” he corrects me, putting his arm around my waist, “I wanted to make it up to you. I feel bad about our arguments.”

“I do too,” I reply, turning and giving him a kiss. He smiles as I pull away and gestures to the table.

“After you,” He tells me.

“Thank you, Mitchell,” I mutter into his shoulder from the couch.

“You’re welcome,” he whispers back as the end credits roll.

“I really wasn’t mad though,” I repeat.

“I felt bad,” he says, “That’s reason enough.”

“Okay,” I say, “It was really nice.”

“You tired?” he asks me, pulling away from me to look me over.

“Kind of,” I reply, “but it’s Friday. I can sleep tomorrow.”

“No,” he insists, “You’ll be too tired. Come on, I’ll take you to bed.”

So he picks me up easily, and carries me into my room. He lays me down gently on the blankets, and I wriggle under them.

“Night,” he says, kissing my forehead and moving to the door.

“Where are you going?” I ask, leaning up on my elbows.

“To the spare room,” he says, his hand poised at the handle.

“Come on,” I say, holding the covers up, “Nothing’s wrong with cuddling.”

He hesitates, but makes his way over to the bed and climbs in with me. I curl into his side and sigh.

“Goodnight, Ains,” he whispers.

“Goodnight, Mitchell,” I whisper back. Something doesn’t feel right.

He leans his face down and kisses the side of my face a few times until I lean up and let him kiss me. He moves a bit down and kisses me harder, slipping his tongue into my mouth carefully. I accept it, though I can’t help but feel a bit detached from this.

He rolls over top of me, and I move my hands into his hair, while we continue kissing. I feel a jolt of nerves run through me when I feel his problem pressing into my thigh, and I push him away gently.

“Not too fast,” I remind him, and he sighs, rolling off of the bed, and heading into the bathroom.

I wake up to my phone ringing. I groan, roll over, and reach onto the night stand where I grab my phone.

“Hello?” I ask, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as Mitchell groans and pulls the covers tighter around him.

“Ainsley!” Talia says, “Come on! We have to hang out today!”

“Too tired,” I mumble.

“Who is that?” Mitchell asks.

“Who’s there?” Talia asks.

“Mitchell’s here,” I tell her, then turn to him, “It’s Talia.”

“Oohlala,” she says.

“No,” I reply, “What do you want?”

“To hang out with someone other than my brother and a lesbian,” she exclaims. I hear two offended cries in the background.

“Well I just woke up,” I reply, curling back into the blankets, “So I’m too tired right now.”

“Hey it’s not my fault you stayed up all night ass fucking,” she practically yells into the phone.

“I did not!” I cry, “We just cuddled.”

“Was it even half as cute as the time you and Carter cuddled?” she asks. I tense up, and so does Mitchell. He heard.

“Shut up,” I tell her, “I’m going back to sleep.”

“Oh, come on Ains! Don’t be like that,” she begs.

“No,” I say, “bye.”

I flip my phone shut and drop it on the floor.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks.

“I didn’t think it was important,” I whisper, “It was nothing.”

He doesn’t answer; he just rolls over top of me and climbs out of bed, grabbing his things.

“Mitchell,” I say.

“No,” he says, “You hide too much shit from me.”

“It wasn’t important to me,” I lie, “I didn’t want us to fight over something that didn’t mean anything to me.”

“You sound like a whore,” he accuses, “I bet you let him get farther than you let me last night.”

“I’m a virgin and you know it!” I exclaim.

“I don’t either,” he scoffs, and continues grabbing his things.

“I am,” I say quietly, “He just slept in the bed with me because the twins and Hadley were in the other bed.”

“He slept in that bed?” he asks, pointing to where I’m sitting.

“Yes,” I admit weakly.

“Fuck you,” he says.

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing!” I exclaim as he reaches for the handle.

“My boyfriend not telling me that he practically fucked a guy in the bed I just slept in kind of is a big deal to me!” he exclaims.

“Like you never slept in your parent’s bed! We just fell asleep, and the rest of our friends accused us of cuddling. We weren’t even,” I say tiredly.

“You’re lying to me,” he says, opening the door.

“No I’m not!” I exclaim. He stops in the door.

“Just stop Ainsley,” he says, “You’re a slut and you know it and I should have too.”

“Get out!” I yell at him. He slams all the doors he passes through on the way out.

I feel my eyes fill up, and I throw myself backwards into my pillows.

Around noon I finally pull myself out of my bed, miserable as ever, and make my way to the living room, and into to the kitchen, where I slide on the extra lock to the main door that I know Talia can’t get open. I don’t feel like talking to anybody today.

I drag my feet all the way back to my room, where I throw myself roughly onto the bed and pull the covers over my body with an exasperated sigh.