The Slut Survival Guide

Secret #9: Sympathy fucks are never ever okay.

The speakers were blasting "Shots" by LMFAO, so of course everyone was doing Tequila shots. Cathy was sitting on a couch with a boy, doing her fifth shot. She threw her head back and downed the drink. Snapping her head back up, she made a grunting noise as the alcohol burned her throat and made bedroom-eyes at a boy sitting near her.

I watched her from the kitchen as I poured two more shots, one for me and one for Cathy. "Thanks, babe," she said and downed it.

Cathy's boy looked very impressed that she had just done six shots. He inched closer to her and put his hand on her knee. I sat down next to her and downed my own. It burned my throat, and I crinkled my face.

I scanned the room, silently hoping Tim and Oliver weren't here. I didn't want Oliver to see me like this, and I didn't want to have to socialize, or anything else, with Tim. Tonight, Cathy and Valerie had given a simple assignment: find at least one more boy. It was something I could easily do, but not with the distraction of Tim or Oliver around.

I spotted Valerie at the kitchen counter. She was leaning over, sticking her butt out and revealing a lot of cleavage. She was talking to a lanky boy with black hair. He was wearing a plaid shirt and was actually very attractive. He seemed immersed in conversation with her, and she looked giddy with happiness.

I walked over the kitchen and grabbed one more shot, waving quickly at Valerie but not wanting to interrupt. I looked around the room and saw Cathy locking lips with a copper-haired boy. I almost gagged.

That copper hair belonged to Tim.

I grabbed one more shot and darted upstairs into a random bedroom. Downing my first shot, I closed the door without looking into the room.

"Do you mind?"

I turned around and saw a couple half-naked on the bed.

"Oh! Oh, God, I'm sorry!" I grabbed the door handle and got the hell out of there, my face burning red. As I shut the door, I felt myself smack into someone, spilling my second shot all over him.

"Oh, sorry," I said, and turned around to see who I ran into.

It was Trent. He smiled down at me and ran a hand through his blond hair. "Hey. Tanya, right?"

I nodded. "Right. You're Trent."

"I am," he said. He looked down at the drink on his shirt.

"Oh," I said, nervously laughing. "Sorry about that."

Trent grinned, shaking his head. "Don't worry about it. This shirt was bound to come off eventually," he joked, smiling at me suggestively. He pulled his t-shirt off, revealing impressive six-pack abs. He came closer to me and put his hand on the small of my back. He started lightly pushing me toward an empty bedroom, and I let him lead me into the room and onto the bed.

He climbed on top of me and started kissing me. It was gentle at first but when his tongue got involved, it became much more aggressive. His lips moved down my neck to my collarbone and kissed gently. He slowly lifted my shirt over my head and kissed the rest of the way from my collarbone to my jeans. He unhooked my bra and kissed his way back up my stomach, placing his hands on my waist.

Although I couldn't help but enjoy it, my mind kept darting back to Oliver. As Trent kissed my breasts, I thought of Oliver's smile. As he worked his way back to my lips, I kissed back, but I thought of Oliver's face this close to mine. Oliver's lips kissing me. Oliver.

As Trent's hands made their way to my jeans, I grabbed them. "Can we stop?" I mumbled.

Trent looked up at my face from his placement above the half-unzipped crotch of my jeans. "Why?"

"I'm...on my period," I lied.

His face became contorted and he quickly sat up straight. "Couldn't have told me that earlier?" He started walking to the door. "Another time, then." He smiled as he watched me put my bra back on. "You're really hot, babe," he said.

I smirked. "Thanks, I guess," I said, putting my shirt back on. "You too. Another time."

He walked out of the room, and I took the opportunity to lock the door and crash back onto the bed. I pulled out my phone, noticing a text from Valerie.

You don't need to worry about giving Cathy a ride. She was drunk as hell and Tim offered to drive her home.