Ew…
Well, that’s interesting. I can’t say that I’ve ever been actively turned off by a woman’s touch.
I lock eyes with Pinup, and they’re…wrong?How can eyes be wrong, you stupid fuck? Get it together.I shake my head as if I can physically clear my brain fog and look back at Brunette. Her eyes are wrong too. Okay then, blindfolds it is for tonight. I can work with blindfolds as long as they’re down.
I grab a strand of Brunette's hair and run it between my fingers. This seems wrong as well, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why I would give a damn.
“Hello? Are you okay?” Brunette is looking at me like I’m crazy. “I asked if you wanted to go find an empty room?”
Before she can finish that sentence, I fake a phone call and apologize for having to leave before practically running out to my bike.
What in the actual fuck is wrong with my dick right now?
Obviously, I’m just tired. Everyone said turning thirty would make everything start to hurt, and this has to be the first sign since my birthday just passed. It’s not even eleven o’clock. More people will be arriving throughout the night, and someone could spark my interest. Something just isn’t clicking for me tonight, though, so I decide to pack it up and head home. Alone. Again. To my custom, luxurious, empty fucking house.
Chapter three
“Where are we sitting?” Mom asks as we make our way into the sanctuary. It’s way too early to deal with her, but I’m on my best behavior this morning, hoping she doesn’t question too much, like why everyone I know is either coming back to town next week or out on vacation.
“I tend to sit in the back. And before you give me any grief, that’s where my friends like to sit. I would pick the front. You know that.”
Phew, good one, Sloane.
“I just wish I could’ve met some of them. I guess your dad and I will just have to come back soon when everyone is back for school.”
Dangit, I did not see that coming. We make it through the service, and I use some of my best acting skills to make sure it looks like I’ve definitely sat through this before. Multiple times. Definitely.
After the service, they list off some announcements, and I flinch when they mention sign-ups for a play.
I love acting. I love plays and drama classes. I had to fight hard for my parents to add them to my course load last year. Hard, hard. And now, I know. I just know Mom is about to say something about me signing up. The problem is that I don’t plan to return to this church. At least not until my parents are here on a Sunday and I have to pretend again.
“Sloane! Did you know they were putting on a play? You can finally put some of those drama classes to use, missy!” They’ve barely dismissed us before she’s dragging me to the table where they have the sign-up sheets. “Oh, this is so perfect! Your dad and I can come see you perform. You know he always thought those classes were stupid, but once he sees that you’re using them for the Lord, he’ll get off my back for letting you take them! This is so great!”
I’m at a loss for words. Not that she would let me get any words in either way. Before I know it, my name is on the cast list, and I have a packet of information in my hands. A beautiful woman, a little older than Mom, is reading off details to a group of us.
“Hi, everyone! My name is Blanche, and I’ll be in charge of this year’s Christmas play. We’ll have practice every Thursday night from six to eight o’clock. We do a little something every year, but we’re wanting to amp it up this year. Give it some more pizzazz, if you will. We’ll meet this Thursday night to start assigning roles. If you aren’t going to be one-hundred percent committed, please don’t sign up. We need reliable volunteers if we’re going to make this work. If you have any questions, I’ll be here all morning. If not, I’ll see you Thursday!”
Mom and I make our way to the car in silence. I still haven’t said a word when Dad calls.
“Scott, guess what?” Mom answers the phone via Bluetooth so that we can all be involved in this conversation. As if that’s really necessary.
“What’s that?” my dad responds, obviously barely paying attention even though he’s only been on the phone for thirty seconds.
“Sloane is going to be in the Christmas play at church! I told you those drama classes would come in handy!”
“That’s good stuff. Hey, listen, we’re almost done at the course. Are you going to be ready to leave soon so we can get back home? We have a long drive.” Wow. Dad’s interest in my life astounds me, even now.
“We’re leaving church now. We can just meet you and Dean at the clubhouse and leave from there. I’m sure he can give her a ride home. See you soon.” Mom hangs up and starts making plans for their next trip. I kinda want to play a game and see how long I can go without saying a word. How long would it take anyone to notice? A day? A week? A year?
Turns out, it’s less than an hour. Apparently, it’s rude of me not to verbally say goodbye to my parents. I watch them drive off with Dean’s arm around my shoulders. The picture-perfect daughter with her picture-perfect boyfriend. Dean leads me to his truck and gives me a kiss. It’s a nice kiss. The kind of touch I’ve been craving all weekend after a month away from my boyfriend. Too bad that’s all it is. A kiss. I’ve tried to insinuate taking our relationship further, but he always stops me. It’s not like we’re still in high school. Shouldn’t every college-age guy want to have sex with his girlfriend?
“So what’s all this about a play?” Dean asks as I’m buckling my seat belt. “I know you like those drama classes, but you don’t want to put too much on your plate this year.”
“Well, Mom saw the sign-ups and volunteered me. Besides, it's just a couple of hours on Thursdays. It shouldn’t be a problem.”
We spend the rest of the short drive back to my apartment discussing schedules. Turns out, Thursday is one of the only nights he has free time. Go figure. His classes are pretty solid until one o’clock, followed by either golf practice or workouts until five o’clock. Then he has study hall from six to eight on Monday and Wednesday nights. That doesn’t include the time he’ll spend with his fraternity, which in the fall semester is pretty much Friday night through the weekend.
My schedule, on the other hand, isn’t bad this semester. I have one class on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from ten to eleven and then two classes on Tuesday and Thursday from nine to noon. My other classes are online, so I can fit them in at any time. And although my parents are insistent on a million and one other activities, they really won’t know if I participate.
