Corrupt Me

When I awoke, it was in a vaguely familiar room. My head was pounding but I could hardly feel it. After a few seconds of disorientation, memories of the night before came trickling back to me and I felt on top of the world. I could hear the steady breathing of the boy next to me; the boy I loved. It took me a little while, due to the fact that I had had a lot to drink the night before and I was still very hazy, but I slowly began to remember his touch and the words he whispered to me, the feeling of him moving inside of me, and the animalistic noises he made.

There were still some hazy parts, it’s true, and that scared me. For example, for the life of me, I couldn’t remember whose idea it was to return to the hotel room to have sex. I couldn’t remember where the bottle of lubricant that was sitting on the bedside table came from, either, because I certainly didn’t pack it. The empty foil package of a condom was sitting next to it. That was yet another thing that was hazy. I couldn’t remember whether we used protection or not. Seeing the wrapper made me feel slightly better.

One thing I didn’t need a reminder of was which role I played in the sex, because there was a dull ache in my lower back, but that was thankfully one thing my overly intoxicated mind allowed me to remember from the night before. I couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto my face. God last night was amazing. I shuffled closer to my boyfriend in the bed so that my back was pressed up into his chest. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but that small movement caused Angel to begin to stir and he rolled over so that he was lying on his back. Unfazed, I rolled over too; I wanted to see the very first look on his face as he woke up and memories of the night before came flooding back the way they did for me when I first woke up.

It barely registered in my head that we were both drunk out of our minds, I forgot that people can react to the effects of alcohol differently, and it certainly didn't occur to me that, when he woke up, Angel wouldn't even fucking remember any of it.

---

I watched Angel for a minute or two, waiting for him to wake up and open his eyes. It was a slow process. When his eyelashes fluttered open, I studied his face as his eyes gazed around what he could see of the hotel room we stayed in while not moving his head. When his eyes finally met mine, I gave him a big smile.

“Good morning!” I said cheerfully, despite my tiredness and hangover. I was disappointed to receive only a groan in return. I shifted closer to him to kiss him, making sure to press my naked body into his as I did so. His arm wound its way around my waist and his hand grazed over my bare butt under the sheets. It felt really good.

“Mm. Mornin’ baby,” he said, slurring slightly. Was he still drunk? “You have a good night?”
I nodded enthusiastically. His hand ran up and down my back, stopping again once it reached my butt.
“Wait… Did we have sex?”
“Yes,” I replied, smiling.
“Was it good? Did you like it?”
“Excuse me?” I asked, slightly confused at his question. He should know it was good.
“Was it good?” he repeated. “I was so fucked last night.”
“You… Don't remember?”
“Not really.”
“Not… Not really?!” my voice had suddenly become much louder. “You took my virginity last night and you ‘don't really’ remember?”
“Hey, whoa, calm down baby. Next time will be better. We’ll…”

“Next time?!” I screeched, moving out of the bed and standing facing him. I didn't even care that I was totally naked in front of him. I was so angry and upset that I could've been wearing a clown suit and it wouldn't have made a difference. “What the fuck makes you think there will be a next time? I am in pain! I lost my fucking virginity to you! I told you I loved you! And you remember none of it? There's no fucking way there's going to be a next time!”

Angel’s eyes widened. “You love me?” he asked quietly.

“Not anymore! You've changed my entire life and I thought it was for the better but now I know it was definitely for the worst. I should have never have let myself get involved with you. I should've listened and stayed with Isabelle. You're nothing but an egotistical fucking whore who only spoke to me in the first place because you wanted to get in my pants and I was stupid enough to fall for your bullshit and give you what you wanted. Lucky you, you won your prize. Congratulations. Fuck you.”

With that, I dressed as fast as possible and left. Angel had tried to talk to me and apologise and explain but I wouldn't let him. I was just too angry and hurt. How could the best moment of my life not even be remembered by the person I shared it with? I honestly thought he loved me. I thought he would care that we had finally had sex. I wasn't meant to be another one of his flings. He said that. He said it and he lied, because that's exactly how I've ended up. God, I'm so stupid. How the hell could I have fallen for his shit? I know why. Because he knows exactly what to say to get what he wants. He was doing it from day one. As much as I hated all the attention he gave me and it made me uncomfortable, I loved it as well. Any normal person would have given up trying to get with someone after a little while but not him. I thought that meant that he was genuinely interested in me and not just interested in getting laid.

I should've never given in to him. That first time he kissed me should have been the end of it. I wasn't interested in boys. I shouldn't have liked that kiss so much, and I sure as hell shouldn't have wanted it to happen again. I should have hit him after he kissed me. Or stopped talking to him completely. But I didn't because I fucking liked it! I liked him! A fucking boy! And then I suddenly wasn't so straight anymore. And I started swearing and drinking and sneaking out. Fuck! I never realised how much he was corrupting me. And I let myself be corrupted because I liked it. And then we have sex after all this time flirting around and he doesn't even have the courtesy to remember it. I should have known. I bet he only told me he loved me in the first place because he wanted to fuck me. I bet that story about his ex boyfriend is a load of shit. Lies. I bet everything he said was all lies.

As that last errant thought ran through my head, I found a bus stop close to where the hotel was. There was no way I was going to be travelling home with Angel or any of his friends. I bet they were in on it. I could barely see the bus timetable due to the angry tears clouding my vision but I managed to figure out which route I needed to take. I sat down on the cold metal seat of the bus stop and let out a hiss as a bolt of pain shot through me. Stupid fucking Angel. I really wanted to hit something then but there were people around who were already staring at me in shock. I probably looked like a mess but I didn’t care at all. I glared at them and continued being angry.

My bus came about ten minutes later and as soon as I sat down in a seat towards the back, my anger turned to sadness and I couldn’t stop the tears from falling from my eyes. I wasn’t quite sure why I was so sad, besides the obvious thing of losing something I held very important to me to someone who couldn’t care less. Maybe it was the fact that I had actually fallen in love with Angel, admitted it to him (and myself) and then found out that he was only using me for sex.

Everything I had been previously thinking when I was furious felt much worse when I was upset. My heart ached with the thought that he only pretended to love me. He’s gotten what he wanted now. I bet he doesn’t even talk to me when we go back to school. He’ll just ignore me and find someone else to persuade into his bed.

I let out a sob at this thought, causing the person sitting across the aisle from me to look at me with concern. I didn’t want Angel to move on. I wanted him to beg me to come back to him and to offer me a heartfelt apology. To tell me that he loved me more than anything. That I wasn’t just another one of his conquests.

But that was exactly what I was. Who knows how many guys he’s slept with before me? Who knows how many he said he loved beforehand? God, I was such an idiot to let it get as far as “love”.

---

It took a lot longer to get home than it took to get to the party, mainly due to the fact that the bus had to take detours to random places to drop off and pick up other passengers, instead of just going straight through to where I wanted to go. There was a bus stop only a street away from my house, so I didn’t have to walk very far when I finally got off the bus. My eyes were red from crying and my hair was a complete mess from last night, plus I was hungover. I know this because I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the driver’s mirror as I was leaving. I looked terrible, and felt even worse. I could only have hoped that nobody would be home to question me on why I looked like I was run over by a truck, but of course I had no such luck.

As I cautiously opened the front door and peeked my head in, Georgia turned around in her chair at the breakfast table, where she was sitting reading what looked like a textbook. Our eyes met and hers widened. I swore in my head. She knew that something was wrong. She and I were always the closest out of all of my siblings.

I pushed the rest of the way into the room and attempted to head to my bedroom without her saying anything, but the scraping of chair legs on the kitchen tiles told me that Georgia had got up from her seat to come and talk to me. I ignored her and went into my room, flicking the door in an attempt to close it, but I never heard the click of it closing, because my sister caught it. She shut the door quietly after entering my room.

I flung myself face down on my bed and wished her gone. Of course, that wasn’t going to happen.
“Micah?” Georgia began. I grunted to tell her that I was listening. “Micah, please look at me.”
“I don’t want to,” I said, but it was into my pillow so all my sister would’ve heard was muffled mumbling.
I felt Georgia push on my shoulder in an attempt to roll me over. I sighed. I wasn’t going to get out of this conversation.

I rolled over slowly and looked at my sister. She was watching me with concern etched on her face.
“Micah… You weren’t with James last night, were you?”
I shook my head miserably, tears welling up in my eyes again. I didn’t think there was any point in lying anymore.
“Where were you? I know that you’ve been drinking, I can smell it on you but that’s not the only thing. Talk to me Mics. You can talk to me about anything.”
“You’ll hate me,” I whispered as the tears fell. I felt disgusted in myself and I knew that my family would be disgusted in me as well.
“No, Micah, no I won’t. There is nothing that you can tell me that will make me hate you…”
“I had sex last night,” I said abruptly.
Georgia’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t seem surprised or angry. “You…okay. Mi –”
“With a boy,” I cut her off.
“… Oh,” she whispered, seemingly unable to form any other words.
“It was Angel… he was my b-boyfriend and I – I w-wanted to do it cause I l-loved him but I shouldn’t have…” I choked out. I was sobbing again. I put my face in my hands and cried harder than I had been before. Oh God, why did this have to hurt so much?

It was only seconds that I was crying into my hands before I felt my sister’s arms wrap around me and she pulled me into her. I took my hands away from my face to hug her back and sobbed into her shoulder while she murmured comforting words into my ear for a long time.

I vaguely remembered hearing my bedroom door open and close while I was crying into my sister’s shoulder, but I had ignored it until Georgia gently pried me off of her. It was only then that I realised my dad had entered my bedroom. He was standing silently near the doorway, watching me in worry.
I sniffed and wiped at my wet eyes.

“What’s going on here Micah?” he asked gently, eyes shifting from me to my sister and then back to me.
I only sniffed again in reply and looked at my lap.
“Georgia?” he questioned.
“Mics,” Georgia whispered in my ear, “You can tell him. He’s not Mom.”

I nodded, but it was a long moment before I spoke, still not looking at my father.
“I… I um… I was seeing someone…”
“Isabelle?” Dad asked.
I shook my head. “N-no. I broke up with her ages ago. It was…it was… a b-boy,” I said, finally looking up, terrified of his reaction. Surprisingly, his face was soft and there was even a hint of a smile. I shot him a confused look.
“It’s okay, Micah.”
“W-what?” I asked, “But it’s a sin! I was dating a boy, Dad. And I – I had s-sex with him last night… Why aren’t you yelling at me? Why aren’t you telling me it’s wrong and that I’m going to hell? I deserve to go to hell. I’m disgusting. I gave into temptation and I lied and – and I loved him but he lied and… and…” I trailed off, tears flowing once more from my eyes.
“Mics… Look, yes, I’m disappointed that you didn’t wait until marriage for sex, but there is no way that you deserve to go to hell. You can’t help how you feel. Being gay isn’t a choice, despite what your mother believes.”

I looked at him in disbelief, but I saw no sign of deceit in his eyes. He really believed what he was saying.

I hiccupped and wiped my eyes again. “I’m not gay,” I stated, not knowing what else to say.
“No?” Georgia asked.
I shook my head. “I was just… just him, I think. I don’t really know.”

The room became silent for a few minutes before Georgia spoke up again.
“What do you mean he was your boyfriend?”
“Huh?”
“You said Angel was your boyfriend. Isn’t he still now?”
“No.” I kept my answer short so that I wouldn’t start crying again. I felt like I must’ve cried enough for about ten lifetimes in one day and I was exhausted.
“Why?”

I took a deep breath, and said as evenly as possible, “Because he lied to me. He said he loved me but he only said it because he wanted to f – uh, have sex with me.”
“How do you know that?” Dad asked, thankfully not picking up on the fact that I almost swore in front of him.
“He didn’t even remember, Dad. We woke up and nothing. He had no memory of what happened. I was just another name to add to his list of conquests. He didn’t love me.”
“Has it ever occurred to you that since you were clearly wasted last night, if the state of you is anything to go by, that he probably was too?” Georgia asked, somewhat aggressively. I looked at her, slightly shocked.
“Um…yes?”
“And has it occurred to you that people handle drinking alcohol in different ways, and that it could have just taken him longer than it took you to remember everything that happened?”
“I…no…” I mumbled.
“No,” she said matter-of-factly. “Just have a think about that.”
She stood up and went to leave my room. She turned back to face me with her hand on the doorknob. “He’s called you about eighteen times, by the way. Your phone’s been on silent.” With that, she left my father and me alone.

“Micah…”
“Dad, please don’t tell Mom,” I said, cutting him off.
He was silent for a few seconds, thinking. “I won’t. I would suggest that you don’t either, at least not till you’re in college or living away from home.”

I nodded. “Thank you,” I said quietly. He opened his arms out to his sides, silently asking for a hug. I got up from my bed and wrapped my arms around him in a fairly short-lived hug. He patted me on the back before pulling away.

“I love you, you know that, right Son?”
“I know. I love you too Dad.”
“Good. Now, have a think about what your sister said. This might just be a big misunderstanding. Think about it, and pray and ask God for help and I know that you’ll figure this out. Your mother will be back from her Women’s Meeting at the church soon. You’d better get cleaned up.”

I showed him a weak smile, and he left my room. I sat back down on my bed and glanced at my phone. The screen was lit up with another incoming call from Angel.

I stared at it until the screen went blank, indicating that his call had gone to voicemail, and then got up from my bed again to take a much-needed shower and get ready to pretend that I had a lovely, sexless, alcohol-less evening with James, all the while trying to keep my emotions in check. I really had no idea what to do now. Was it possible for me to just go back to living a regular life again, after all that happened?