Chapter 3

Monday October 19

I braided my hair today, like I had done for Mr. Donohue. Maybe it looks stupid - I don’t know. I just needed a change.

Tuesday October 20

So there’s a part of my brain that keeps suggesting excuses to call Miles: really fucking lame excuses that would never fly in the Court of Relationships. For instance: to argue with the stuff he said four days ago. Or to talk to him, as a friend, about how I’m feeling about breaking up with my boyfriend. Yeah, that one’s rich. Anyway, he’s not my friend - not any more. I’m too “difficult”.

I watched some of his stream. He seems perfectly fucking happy. Like he’s glad to be free of the baggage of dating me. Asshole.

I thought about calling Hailey, too. I doubt I’d get much sympathy. Come to think of it, I guess I kinda broke her heart. God, is this what I made her feel like? I really am a fucking monster.

Wednesday October 21

I honestly don’t think it’s possible for me to feel worse about myself. I broke down and logged in to Hailey’s email. I just wanted to touch her, somehow - read her words.

She’s still going to school here, so I guess she survived the fall of Chi Omicron. She’s got a girlfriend now - someone named Sam. I ran across a picture of them and they look really good together. Hailey cut her beautiful long blonde hair: she’s got chin-length copper hair now. I guess she needed a change too.

I ran across a chat exchange between the two of them. Sam was ripping on me, saying horrible things about me that she could only have heard from Hailey, and Hailey was defending me to her. It was clear that I was still the biggest catastrophe to ever happen in Hailey’s life, but she insisted that I had good qualities too. I guess it’s like saying that Joseph Stalin told great party jokes or something.

Saturday October 24

I did it again. Maybe I should be afraid that I’m becoming one of those girls, but honestly I don’t regret last night at all.

My plan for the night was innocent enough: stay in my dorm room and study. For some reason, an impromptu party broke out in the hall. Those people just would not shut up! I couldn’t concentrate at all, so I left my room, bound for who knows where, hoping they would all go away.

I discovered the problem was bigger than just my hall. The entire dorm, inside and out, was filled with tedious loud people. I sat on the steps of a building away from the noise.

“What are you doing way out here?” a guy asked, as he joined me on the steps.

“At the moment?” I replied. “Wishing I had some earplugs. Or a firearm. Or fake ID.”

The stranger reached into his jacket pocket and uncapped a flask, offering it to me. I smelled it and gave him a questioning look when I couldn’t identify the smell.

“Apple schnapps,” he said. I took a drink and felt the warm glow of alcohol in my belly. I handed it back to him and he took a drink too.

“I’m Kurt,” he said. “Not in much of a party mood?”

“No,” I replied. “That’s one thing they never tell you about college - that you’ll be trapped with only a tiny room that’s yours. And even that you’ll have to share with an unpleasant dimwit who chews her hair. Everywhere you go, you’re always surrounded by hundreds of people.”

“You don’t have anywhere you like to escape to?” Kurt asked.

“I do, actually,” I told him. “The shooting range. But you can’t go there when you’ve been drinking, and I’m kinda digging that stuff.” He passed me the flask again and I took another drink.

“How about the next best thing?” Kurt asked. “Mini-golf.”

I went with Kurt to the miniature golf park, despite being dressed in sweat clothes with no bra. We had a nice time. Our conversations ranged from frivolous to serious and back again a couple times.

“See those two?” Kurt said, discretely pointing at a pair of 30-somethings with their little girl. “I bet they’ve been married for ten years, but they still don’t know each others’ secret kinks.” We had been talking about the difficulty of relationships.

“What, like he wishes she would walk on his back in high heels?” I joked.

“Yeah,” Kurt went along. “And she secretly wishes he was much, much hairier.”

“Ew,” I laughed.

“So what about you?” Kurt asked. “What secret kinks lurk in Lexi’s mind?”

I had to think about that one for a second. “You know,” I finally said, “I don’t think I’ve found it yet. I’ve tried a few things, but most of it didn’t feel like me. I’m sure it’s out there - some day I’ll find some totally sick shit that I’m into.”

“What about you?” I went on. “What shameful deviant things have you always wanted to try?”

“Mmm,” he began with reservation. “Ask me later tonight, ‘kay?”

We ran out of schnapps on the last hole. We hung around inside for a short while, playing skeeball and video games, but the attendant kept giving us the stink-eye. When Kurt said that his apartment was within walking distance and suggested that we continue the evening there, I gladly accepted. I put his arm around my shoulders as we walked.

Back at Kurt’s place, there was spiced rum. He used tickling as an excuse to lift my sweatshirt and expose my midsection. Pretty soon he was kissing me there, his lips making random contact all over my belly.

I fell down onto the floor and spread my legs. Kurt moved on top of me and kissed me while dry-humping me. Despite all of our layers of clothes, I could feel him getting hard.

Our shirts came off. He kept kissing me while rolling my breasts around in his hands. I touched the muscles of his shoulders and arms.

I started to take off his pants and then I remembered myself. “Do you have any...” I began nervously.

“Rubbers?” He finished for me. “Yeah. Let’s go into the bedroom.”

Soon he was lying on the bed and I was kneeling next to him, warming his dick up with my mouth. “So why don’t you tell me about these kinks of yours,” I said, before trying my hand at a little deep throat. His dick was pretty long - maybe nine inches? Definitely bigger than anyone I had ever been with. Giving him head required a little bit of adaptation.

“Don’t judge me,” he said nervously, “but I’ve always kinda always wanted to try slapping. On the face. During sex.”

“Really?” I said curiously. I was buzzed, but not so much that it didn’t recognize this strange coincidence. Why did all of the boys I was with suddenly want to slap me? Was there some new movie that had popularized it?

“Forget I said anything,” Kurt hastily said.

“No - we can try that,” I said. “I mean, just a couple slaps, right?”

“Yeah - just one or two. And if you say stop we stop.” He was giddy, like a kid on Christmas.

I took charge, making a chair of pillows up against the headboard. Once he was settled sitting half-upright with a rubber expertly unrolled on his flagpole-like dick, I straddled his legs and wiggled forward, trying to fill my cunt up with my prize. Eventually I found a position pretty far back, with my arms braced behind me, where I could buck my hips to drive him inside.

We were doing it, and it was good. Unlike last time, I actually wanted to keep my eyes open. Kurt had such a lovely smile. I mostly just studied his face while our sex parts performed their task.

Then Kurt pulled me toward him and took off my glasses. I remembered his request. “You ready?” he said, with his right hand set to strike and his left thumb below my clitoris. I nodded.

Despite being prepared, my whole body flinched when he slapped me. I bet he could actually feel it in his dick. He started rubbing my clit while the pain subsided, which was a nice gesture, but I wasn’t really ready for that yet. “God you’re so sexy!” He said.