That’s obvious. “I meant like, the right time.” I slide a hand under the passenger seat, rummaging for my umbrella, but my fingers get caught on something sticky.
What the…I pull it out and nearly gag. It’s a used condom. Flattened, crusted, and streaked with something dark.
“That’s not mine,” Sean says with a straight face. Then he snatches it away and rolls down the window, flinging it outside.
Completely turned off, I grab the handle of my umbrella and try to measure my words carefully.
“I think it’s best if we end our night here and go home,” I say.
“How the hell do you expect to get home if I don’t drive you?”
I tilt my head to the side. “What are you saying?”
“If you don’t want to fuck tonight, that’s fine.” He shrugs, unzipping his jeans. “But you could at least do something for me for a while. I could’ve been hanging with my friends, but instead I decided to spend time with you.”
“Okay, you’re right, Sean.”
“I know.” He unzips his pants even further and pushes down his jeans. As he’s pulling out his cock, I step out of the car and into the rain.
Popping open my umbrella, I slam the door shut and walk away.
Far away.
Cold, angry raindrops find their way under my hoodie, between my shoulder blades, down into my socks. Every step is wetter than the last, each one soaking me deeper in regret.
When I’m halfway across the empty parking lot, Sean pulls up next to me.
“Stop being dramatic and get back in the car, Emily.”
“I’ll pass.”
“There’s only highway for the next eight miles.”
“I’ll still pass.”
“When I read the news tomorrow, I’ll hate to see that you got run over by a semi-truck.” He doesn’t look remotely sympathetic. “What a shame it would be when the reporters are wondering why you didn’t have any ID or your phone.”
I stop walking and see him holding my purse and phone.
I reach out for it, but he pulls it back.
“Why can’t you just stop being a jerk and take me home?”
“Suck me off and I will.”
I don’t say anything. Just reach out again. “Give me my stuff.”
He tosses the purse, but he keeps my phone.
“Sean, really?” I ask. “Stop being so immature.”
“Immature is making me stop talking to other girls just for you to lead me on.” He scoffs. “Especially since you just moved to town and I had plenty of other options.”
I roll my eyes. I’m not sure if this is his attempt at gaslighting or guilting, but it’s not working.
“How would you feel if you were me, Emily?”
“I would feel like the asshole I’ve always been.” I glare at him. “Give. Me. My. Phone.”
