Truth Undressed (Exposed Series, #3) (5 page)

“What did she say?”

“She suggested that maybe I should stop being such a whore instead.”

“God, Annie, that’s awful.” I couldn’t imagine either of my Moms
ever saying something like that.

“I know. She’s a self-righteous bitch,” she said, holding up
what remained of the blunt. “Wanna save the rest of this for later?”

“Yeah, I’m plenty high.”

She put out the glowing embers on the half a blunt that was
left. “And she’s a hypocrite, too.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“I’m pretty sure the only reason my Dad married her was because
she got knocked up with me. Honestly, she’s the worst, most manipulative…” She
started shaking her head.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “You’ll be out of here soon.”

“Fucking right I will be. If I get in anywhere.”

“You will. Of course you will.”

She shrugged. “So that’s why I hate Ian so much.”

“Wait, what?”

“You’re always wondering why I think Ian is such a fucking
douche.”

“Wait you and Ian were-”

“Yeah.”

“And he-”

She nodded.

“How did he even keep it up long enough?” I asked, regretting
the question as soon as I asked it.

Thankfully, she laughed. “I know, right? God I was dying to ask
you if he’d improved at all but I guess that answers that question.”

I shook my head. “Having sex with him is like looking for a
shooting star.”

She pulled a pack of smokes from her pocket. “If you blink
you’ll miss it?”

“Exactly.”

She slid a cigarette from the pack and held it out to me.

“No thanks,” I said. I hadn’t had one since I’d heard Dawn’s
death rattle. Not that I didn’t want one. I just couldn’t.

“But Annie?”

“Yeah?”

“You really should’ve told me. I mean, I’m kind of ticked.”

“What was I supposed to say?” She lit the end of her cigarette
and dragged on it to get it going. “
Hey Kate, I know you like this guy but
he got me pregnant two years ago and was a total douche about it.
”

“Yeah! That is exactly what you were supposed to say!”

“Oh well. I guess I’ll know for next time.”

I rolled my eyes.

She smiled, but it was the kind of smile that looked slightly
pained. Almost desperate.

“He was a douche about it, huh? Not that I’m surprised.”

“Like he didn’t even want to know. Just denied it right away.
Called me a liar. Said no one would believe a slut like me anyway.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

“No wonder you hate his guts.”

She shrugged. “He’s dead to me, as dead to me as our dead baby.”

“Don’t talk like that. Please. That’s horrible.”

“What?” she said. “It’s the truth. I mean it was only like the
size of a quarter when it was aborted but still.”

I nodded and watched the smoke swirl off the end of her
cigarette, wondering what it was like to carry that around and if I would’ve
made the same decision. Not that she had any options. Between her parents and
school and Ian’s general idiocy, what choice did she have?

And suddenly I realized how easy it would’ve been for Dawn to
make me disappear so I was just an unnamed mistake, too. And yeah, I wouldn’t
be in pain right now, feeling like a parentless reject in a totally fucked up
mess of stale truth. In fact, I never would have been in any pain ever.

But I wouldn’t have been there to comfort Annie when she was
hurting either. Which was important to me.

And for the first time ever, I felt lucky to be alive.

Lover #2:
The First One that Makes You Come

After you get some selfish, unskilled lovers out of the way,
you’re bound to find a good one. And not only will he be good, he’ll be so
delicious you’ll have your very first orgasm.

The good news is that you will always remember your first. The
bad news is that you may momentarily feel like all the other sex you were
having was a waste of time.

But it wasn’t, and it will make you appreciate the earth
shattering goodness all the more. After all, you can’t appreciate the highs properly
until you’ve experienced the lows.

Maybe you'll think orgasms remind you of powdered donuts because
they're light and satisfying. Or perhaps they'll make you feel like you're
being raged inside by stormy seas. Regardless, this event will mark a new
chapter for you.

So don’t be surprised if you get addicted to that feeling and
the person that made you feel it. Chances are the craving will be mutual. If
this happens, give yourself permission to enjoy every minute of it. Because
when a young couple find their sexual stride, there is nothing more exciting.

For most of us, our first partner isn’t our last. But they’re
always unforgettable. And oftentimes, they act as a benchmark against which
you’ll compare all your future partners.

Irrespective of the circumstances, having your first orgasm is a
massive victory. After all, reaching this sexual milestone means that you're
comfortable with your partner in both your nakedness and your pursuit of
pleasure. I imagine it’s a lot like achieving nirvana because to experience it you
must forget yourself, your surroundings, and your insecurities entirely.

With this trust in place, the most insane sexual pleasure you’ve
ever known will descend on you like a thick, glorious fog. Usually, this fog is
lust. However, it can be easily confused with love. Especially at a young age
when intense new are flooding your body and making your hormones rage like
horny monkeys.

And that’s okay. Because love has many faces.

Of course, when it comes to the lover that is responsible for
your first orgasm, it will be years before you can get any objective
perspective. Maybe you’ll discover that it really was love. But maybe you’ll
discover that it was just pure, glorious lust.

Whatever you decide it was or wasn’t doesn’t really matter
though. The real reason you’ll cherish lover number two is because his
companionship will not only raise your sexual confidence, but your standards,
too.

I was doing everything I could to avoid binging and purging. I
knew if I started again I would be in trouble. Because Dawn wasn’t around to
bail me out now. I had to help myself through it.

So I kept thinking about what she said: that I was strong enough
to do it on my own. That if I was strong enough to develop and live with the
disease, I was strong enough to beat it. She said I should never take that for
granted. She said that if her cancer had been the kind she could’ve fought that
she would’ve fought every day, and that that’s what I had to do.

So I was. I was fighting every day to occupy myself so I wouldn’t
return to my default methods for handling stress. Like the stress of living at
home again and worrying about what would happen after graduation. To me. To
everybody. I mean, there was a lot on my plate. Figuratively.

Fortunately, “my parents” hadn’t tried to control me at all
since I found out that they were really just friendly people who took me in. So
I put half a bottle of vodka in my bag and walked out the door without a word.

Then I headed straight to Kevin’s.

His whole family was at their grandparent’s lake house for the
weekend, but he got out of it by saying he had to work on a school project.

I was thrilled he invited me over. Especially since I was
worried he would never want to see me again after I passed out at the
fraternity house the last time he invited me out. But he never said a word
about it. And when I apologized he told me not to be silly and that it happens
to everyone.

Which pretty much secured his spot as the nicest guy that ever
expressed interest in me by far. And I wasn’t going to blow it. Especially when
I would much rather blow him.

Which isn’t to say I didn’t want to get hammered. Because I did.
But right before I suggested we watch Family Guy and take a shot every time
Brian said something clever, he offered to make some mixed drinks. Which was a
lot classier.

“It’s just that I can’t get too drunk,” he said. “At least not
until I finish my art project. But you go ahead.”

“You take art?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I just didn’t know.”

“This may come as a surprise to you, but not everyone feels the
need to take as many AP classes as they can fit in their schedule.”

“Was that a jab?”

“No,” he said. “It’s cool that you’re smart, but the rest of us
non-nerds sometimes go for an easy A.”

“I’m not a nerd.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” he said. “It’s cool.”

“Thanks then. I guess.”

He handed me a vodka and Coke. “Wanna see my masterpiece?”

“Of course,” I said, taking a sip of my drink. “Whoa that’s a
stiff one.”
Oh my god I said stiff.

“Is it too strong?” he asked. “I figured that was better than
having to constantly fill up.”

“No. It’s vodka. I mean, it’s nice.”

He smiled.

“It’s good,” I said. “Really.”

“I’m trying to get you drunk.”

“I was hoping, but I didn’t want to say anything.”

“I’ve been looking forward to it all week.”

“What happens when I get drunk?” I asked, following him up the
stairs to his room.

“What doesn’t happen when you get drunk?”

“Hilarious.”

He opened the door to his room and I nearly got knocked down by
the fresh smell of Febreeze. Besides the art supplies, though, there was
nothing different about his room since the last time I was over. When we’d
shared that epic kiss. It was like once something lay down in there, it didn’t
get back up.  

“May I?” I asked, pointing to the easel by the window.

“Please.”

I walked around and stared at it. I wouldn’t have called it a
masterpiece, but it wasn’t bad either. “It’s a blue horse woman?”

“We’re supposed to be imitating one of the great masters.”

“I see.”

“It’s supposed to look like a Chagall.”

“Well, I’m sure the only reason it doesn’t it because I’m not
very familiar with his work.”

“You’re too kind.”

“It’s supposed to look like this.” He reached over towards his
pillows and picked up a heavy, glossy-paged book I recognized from the
downstairs coffee table. “Here.”

I grabbed the open page and examined it beside his copy. Then I
proceeded to make the types of pompous noises I imagined an art critic would
make as I sipped my lethal drink. “Excellent use of light and blue. Your
shading needs work, but I think you will be done in plenty of time for the
exhibition.”

“What a relief,” he said, smiling. “Seriously, though, I do
think my biggest problem is the shading.”

“I didn’t mean it. I was just joking.”

“See if you can fix it,” he said. “You might find you have a
natural talent.”

“Doubtful.”

“I just need a B.”

“Surely, you’re shooting for an A? I mean, it’s art. Isn’t it
totally subjective?”

“I guess.”

“So you’ve been getting A’s all semester?”

“Yeah,” he said. “But not because of my artistic talent.”

“Are you sleeping with the teacher?” I smirked.

He stepped up beside me and put his hands around my waist. “You
think I’d get an A for that, do you?”

I felt myself blushing. “I couldn’t possibly say.”

He raised his eyebrows mischievously which made my insides
blush.

I don’t know what it was, but when he looked straight at me, I
felt absolutely primal. 

“Actually, if you just pretend you’re really into art she gives
you an A because she wants to encourage your passion.”

“Of course she does.”

“But here.” He picked up a dinner plate with different colored
paints on it. The brush lay across the plate with its bristles anchored in a
glob of blue paint. “See what you can do anyway.”

“Okay.” I took another sip of my drink and then set it down on
the table beside his bed. “As long as you’re sure I can’t do any harm.”

“Just don’t fuck with the woman’s face,” he said. “It took me
forever to get it to look that horsey.”

“Okay.”

He sat on the edge of the bed and watched me intently.

“Can you hold up the book again?” I asked.

He held it up the open page and I studied it, trying to ignore how
his sexy mop of hair peaked over the top.