Charmed Thirds_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [122]
Sex. Is there anything that starts out more miraculous then turns so mundane? Before you do it, sex is this mysterious thing that's just out there . . . waiting. You know you're going to do it someday. But when? And with who? And what will it feel like? OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH. And then you do it and those questions are answered and even if it's good, even if it's really, really good, you discover that maybe all the time and energy you spent obsessing about your virginity might have been better spent contemplating something else. Like low-emissions fuel sources.
I put off having sex because I wanted it to be with the right person. I thought this person was Marcus. And he was. At the time. But he isn't now. Which suggests that I probably could have done it with someone else just as easily and ended up exactly where I am now. Alone. With a total stranger touching me only because my mother has paid him to.
This is what I was thinking when Kayan hit a spot in my lower back that triggered a hip-to-toe charley horse.
“AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
My lower body clenched tighter, as if it were ready to rumble.
“Relax . . . ,” Kayan urged in a soothing voice. “Relax . . .”
“AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
Kayan spent the rest of the time trying to squeeze cramps out of my lower half. The more he kneaded and pleaded with my flesh, the more it resisted.
“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD.”
If I had the power to appreciate humor at the time, I would have laughed. Because my cries sounded just like I was having an orgasm, which, not so incidentally, can also make my toes curl. There is a fine line between pleasure and pain. This is the best explanation I can come up with to explain why Kieran and I stayed together as long as we did.
“You're not taking good care of yourself,” Kayan said before leaving the treatment room. “You should schedule monthly appointments.”
“Sure,” I said, wincing as I put my foot on the floor. “Do you take food stamps?”
After fifty-five minutes, I limped out of the treatment room physically and emotionally exhausted.
My sister was already stretched out on a chaise lounge in her plush robe, holding a glass of cucumber water.
“So,” she said, in between sips. “What are you going to do about your living situation next semester?”
I flopped down in the chair next to her and closed my eyes.
“Well, I applied for campus housing, but I'm so late that I'm not very optimistic,” I said. “I've got a plan, though. The dorm policies at NYU and Columbia are pretty much the same. I can be an overnight guest for five days every thirty days. So I just need to migrate from room to room, friend to friend, six times a month.”
“That's no way to live!”
“It will be fine. Percy and Bridget have already agreed to let me crash with them if I have to. And these girls Tanu and Kazuko will take me in, too. I'll be better off than that guy who slept in the NYU library all semester.”
“Why don't you stay with us?”
“Maybe Lifetime will make a movie about me,” I continued, intentionally dodging her question.
“Jessie, stay with us,” she said, staying the course.
I inhaled deeply. “The commute from Brooklyn to 116th Street every day would kill me,” I said. “It's bad enough from Washington Square.”
“Then let me give you some money,” she said.
Flashback: Kieran making the same offer. I felt like someone had dropped a bowling ball off the top of the Empire State Building and it landed right in the pit of my gut.
“I feel weird taking your money because . . .” My voice trailed off.
“Why?”
I yanked at the tie to my robe.
“Why, Jessie?