The Slut Survival Guide
nine.
Secret #10: Sexting may be normal and even demanded by some guys, but who knows where those pictures will go. Opt out, especially if you're not a permanent slut.
I pushed down on the gas pedal as hard as possible. The speed climbed furiously as I drove toward Tim's house. I looked down at the address that Valerie had written on my hand, and then back at the house numbers.
1106.
1108.
1110.
Tim's house, 1112, was a dark house made of bricks. I couldn't make out much else; I could barely even make out the number printed on the mailbox, but I parked my car and got out. I saw no cars in his driveway, but one light on in a room upstairs. All the other lights were off.
I ran to his door and stared at it. I ran through the mental plan again. Once I knocked, I planned on grabbing Cathy and taking her home before she could say anything that damaged her reputation or, more importantly, mine. I grabbed onto the knocker but didn't knock. I felt myself gently let the knocker go, deciding against the confrontation. Tim wouldn't let her go. She wouldn't want to go. Drunk Cathy would also probably puke all over my car and throw a total fit. And in the morning, she wouldn't remember what I did for her.
I looked up at the light in the window and stopped my breath to hear better. A girl giggled, and a guy was talking in a low voice. I let a breath out and stepped away from the door. I slowly walked back to the car, turning my head to look back every few steps. I grabbed my phone and checked the time. 1:00 am. I put my keys in the ignition and drove home.
I found Valerie standing impatiently outside of Starbucks, tapping her foot nervously. She looked up, her eyes widening when she saw me. Grabbing my hand, she dragged me into the coffee shop and shoved me onto a stool, placing her hands on my shoulder. Her face was above mine, but her eye contact didn't falter. "Tanya," she spoke sternly.
"Valerie," I replied, confused. She had texted me and only told me to come here. She refused to tell me anything else, and the tense tone of this encounter was getting to me.
"Why were you at Tim's last night?" she demanded.
I raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't. I asked you for the address just to know where Cathy was. Just in case, ya know?"
Valerie shook her head furiously. "He saw your car outside."
My eyes widened. "Um...no, he didn't."
She nodded. "He did. What the fuck were you thinking? You look like a total stalker-creep now!"
"I'm not! It wasn't like that! I was going to go get Cathy but then I decided not to," I explained.
"Why were you going to get her?"
I shrugged. "What if she said something? Like, about the guide. Tim could tell...anyone," I said. I thought of Oliver in that pause, but didn't mention anything to Valerie.
"She won't," Valerie insisted. "Will you calm down? She's drunk, not stupid."
"Normally she might not be, but Drunk Cathy is Stupid Cathy," I said.
"I mean, yes. But, believe me, she wouldn't out you like that. Plus, who cares if she did? It's not like you need anyone to love you. Just go to a party where no one knows your name," she said. "Other schools host parties. And we only have so much time until graduation. Your run as a slut is almost up."
I looked at the floor. "I guess. Sorry, I won't do it again," I instinctively apologized, feeling like I was talking to a parent.
Valerie nodded and grabbed my chin, tilting it back up to meet her gaze. "Good. Psycho slut is not a great reputation, okay, babe?" she said, smiling. I tried to return the smile.
She turned around to leave, but paused at the door. "Oh, by the way," she said, grinning. "Some good news. Steven heard."
I looked up, suddenly very intrigued. "Heard what?"
"About you," she said. "He's been asking around. Just thought you'd like to know." She turned around and headed back out, leaving me on the stool.
I smiled to myself, glad that he knew I wasn't being pathetic. I wondered what he thought of me now, what everyone thought of me now. Tanya, the love-less slut. Valerie didn't know, but I actually did need one person to love me, or at least like me. I pursed my lips as I looked out the window. As long as Cathy didn't fuck anything up, Oliver didn't have to know anything.
I pushed down on the gas pedal as hard as possible. The speed climbed furiously as I drove toward Tim's house. I looked down at the address that Valerie had written on my hand, and then back at the house numbers.
1106.
1108.
1110.
Tim's house, 1112, was a dark house made of bricks. I couldn't make out much else; I could barely even make out the number printed on the mailbox, but I parked my car and got out. I saw no cars in his driveway, but one light on in a room upstairs. All the other lights were off.
I ran to his door and stared at it. I ran through the mental plan again. Once I knocked, I planned on grabbing Cathy and taking her home before she could say anything that damaged her reputation or, more importantly, mine. I grabbed onto the knocker but didn't knock. I felt myself gently let the knocker go, deciding against the confrontation. Tim wouldn't let her go. She wouldn't want to go. Drunk Cathy would also probably puke all over my car and throw a total fit. And in the morning, she wouldn't remember what I did for her.
I looked up at the light in the window and stopped my breath to hear better. A girl giggled, and a guy was talking in a low voice. I let a breath out and stepped away from the door. I slowly walked back to the car, turning my head to look back every few steps. I grabbed my phone and checked the time. 1:00 am. I put my keys in the ignition and drove home.
I found Valerie standing impatiently outside of Starbucks, tapping her foot nervously. She looked up, her eyes widening when she saw me. Grabbing my hand, she dragged me into the coffee shop and shoved me onto a stool, placing her hands on my shoulder. Her face was above mine, but her eye contact didn't falter. "Tanya," she spoke sternly.
"Valerie," I replied, confused. She had texted me and only told me to come here. She refused to tell me anything else, and the tense tone of this encounter was getting to me.
"Why were you at Tim's last night?" she demanded.
I raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't. I asked you for the address just to know where Cathy was. Just in case, ya know?"
Valerie shook her head furiously. "He saw your car outside."
My eyes widened. "Um...no, he didn't."
She nodded. "He did. What the fuck were you thinking? You look like a total stalker-creep now!"
"I'm not! It wasn't like that! I was going to go get Cathy but then I decided not to," I explained.
"Why were you going to get her?"
I shrugged. "What if she said something? Like, about the guide. Tim could tell...anyone," I said. I thought of Oliver in that pause, but didn't mention anything to Valerie.
"She won't," Valerie insisted. "Will you calm down? She's drunk, not stupid."
"Normally she might not be, but Drunk Cathy is Stupid Cathy," I said.
"I mean, yes. But, believe me, she wouldn't out you like that. Plus, who cares if she did? It's not like you need anyone to love you. Just go to a party where no one knows your name," she said. "Other schools host parties. And we only have so much time until graduation. Your run as a slut is almost up."
I looked at the floor. "I guess. Sorry, I won't do it again," I instinctively apologized, feeling like I was talking to a parent.
Valerie nodded and grabbed my chin, tilting it back up to meet her gaze. "Good. Psycho slut is not a great reputation, okay, babe?" she said, smiling. I tried to return the smile.
She turned around to leave, but paused at the door. "Oh, by the way," she said, grinning. "Some good news. Steven heard."
I looked up, suddenly very intrigued. "Heard what?"
"About you," she said. "He's been asking around. Just thought you'd like to know." She turned around and headed back out, leaving me on the stool.
I smiled to myself, glad that he knew I wasn't being pathetic. I wondered what he thought of me now, what everyone thought of me now. Tanya, the love-less slut. Valerie didn't know, but I actually did need one person to love me, or at least like me. I pursed my lips as I looked out the window. As long as Cathy didn't fuck anything up, Oliver didn't have to know anything.