introduction. Shayna found comfort and excitement in Martin’s company,
ping-ponging opinions about movies, politics, South Park. Martin was pleasantly
knowledgeable, funny, and one of Shayna’s few friends at school with whom she
felt she could be her true quirky self.
cheap wine, and watched a movie. Shayna would courteously depart some nights
more quickly than others, if Martin had, as he usually did, edged toward her
during the course of the movie. On other nights, Shayna would repeat into Martin’s contorted pleading eyes that she loved his company, but wasn’t interested
in anything romantic with anyone at the
his breath odorsome, his teeth overlarge, and his physique lacking would
certainly have led to an irreparable rift in their friendship, and leave her quite
wine, most of which had emptied itself down her throat, not his. “You know that
I just don’t want anything romantic with anyone right now. I love spending time
with you; we have a great time. Why does it have to be different?”
couch, and I’ve wanted to kiss you, and I’ve respected you enough not to.”
without sarcasm, “but that doesn’t change how I feel. It would change our
friendship, and I really don’t want to see that happen.” The topic was tiresome
to her–the bent truths, white lies; it drained her – is this all men wanted
sickened her. She crept from his bed at the first slant of light, forgetting
her rings on his desktop, and blinked into the street.
exhaustion, to be rid of the topic. He’d placed his hands so gently on her body,
skimming her parts.
congruous with the act. If he’d ground
into her, panting with lust, she’d have understood. She could easily let her pall of cheap, whoring disgust fall into
an eerie abyss of disregard–it was a feeling she was familiar with.
And she hated him for it. For prolonging her shame with each slow touch. For distorting the act into a caricature of true feeling.
humiliation and disgust for the man who’d held her like an angel.