𝔽₳𝜯Ǝ

Iniquity

The encounter with Kevin bothered me the rest of the afternoon, well into the evening really. I was thinking about the might-have-beens while driving Becky home for the evening. We'd been studying at my house, and it was a little after midnight. Class started at 7:15 am tomorrow, and I still had three chapters of physics to read before I went to bed.

"You okay?" she asked at about the half-way point.

"Hmm, just tired. Zoning out, sorry," I said.

"Must be," she grinned, "You just drove past the turn off to our spot."

'Our spot' was a quiet back road we'd found that was pretty good for making out in the car. It was pretty standard for me to stop there for a while when dropping her off.

"Sorry baby, I'm really tired, and I got a lot of work waiting for me still at home before I can go to bed," I said, which was mostly true.

"It's fine. You've been running around like a maniac all year. I don't know how you keep up with everything," she said and her voice was soft and tender. Her private voice for me; the one she used when we were alone. It made me feel special. Maybe I was imagining it, but it made me feel good she had something that was for me only, even if it was just a particular tone of voice.

Maybe that's what prompted me to speak up. Maybe I just needed someone to open up too.

Pause again.

I think we've already established that I was not very manly. I cried when upset, I squealed like a little kid, at least internally, when excited, and I thought about other people's feelings and stuff. With years of experience and hindsight of course I know that everyone does this stuff, even grown-ass men. But at eighteen, Men didn't cry, they didn't talk about their feelings, and they never confessed weakness unless they were outnumbered three to one.

But I was tired. Beyond tired really. Mentally and physically spent. Becky was more than just a friend now. More even than just a really close friend with benefits. More even than a passing infatuation. We'd been together for almost six months, and having sex for three of those. She was my lover. I loved her. I was pretty sure she loved me. Though we'd never said it out loud.

I needed to talk to someone about Kevin. If I couldn't trust her, then I really did have no one.

We were almost to her house, when I asked her.

"Becky, do you think I'm a nerd?"

She looked back over at me, surprise on her face, "What? No of course not."

"But you used too right?" I pressed.

"Well, freshman year, yeah, I guess," she shrugged, "But I haven't for a long time."

I sighed, "When did you stop?"

She bit her lip, not in a sexy way, in a thoughtful way.

"I dunno, maybe a couple of months after you started hanging out with us," she said after a minute or so.

"So, when I started going to parties and dressing differently," I said.

She nodded, "Yeah probably. I mean at first, yeah I guess. I didn't know what to think. But once I got to know you, I liked you. You're funny, smart, and we know how I like smart." she grinned suggestively.

I shook my head, "If that was all, then you'd be all over Kevin Wilson."

"Who?"

I swallowed. Guilt. I was stabbed by guilt.

"Kevin Wilson, he's in our class, you had Junior World Events with him last year," I said. Everyone had to take the world events class, regardless of academic placement, there was no advanced version.

She furrowed her brow and thought about it.

"He's a couple inches shorter than me. Kind of shaggy brown hair, a little bit heavy set."

"Oh - my God! Yes, I know him. Ew, no way!" she laughed and punched my arm lightly on the arm. It was a flirtatious punch.

"Why not? He's funny, and just as smart, if not smarter than me," I continued.

She shook her head, "No way! He's gross. He smells funny too, like he doesn't shower enough. He's totally a creep too. He was like, stalking Mindy last year. Like, spying on her at her house and stuff. Her dad had to call the police."

I frowned, "I didn't know that."

Mindy was another cheerleader. She was very cute, a little ditsy, but nice enough I suppose - when she wasn't being a stuck up bitch. It had taken her a while to warm up to me. But this year I was one of the in-crowd. She'd been one of the girls that had come up and hugged me in line today. She hadn't even looked at Kevin.

Becky nodded, "Yeah it was a thing for a while. He gives me the creeps. The way he stares at people, like he's totally imagining you naked."

"You have any idea how much time I spent imagining you naked before we got together?" I said, half amused, half frustrated

She laughed, "That's different. I was showing off for you."

I frowned.

"You know we loved to tease you, right? It was all part of that. Plus after a while, when I started having a crush on you, I wanted you to be checking me out," she continued.

I sighed. I got the difference. I really did. But it was still not helping me.

"Anyway, no way. Gross. Even without the creepy staring thing. He's..." she started to say.

"A Nerd?" I offered

"Jake, what's this about? You aren't a nerd. You haven't been for a while now. You're different. You take care of yourself, you dress nice and act cool. You're relaxed and have tons of self-confidence."

Wait, was she talking about me? Self-confidence?

"I ran into Kevin today when I was getting our prom tickets,"

"So?"

"He used to be my best friend. In elementary school and middle school, fourth grade to freshman year really," I said with a heavy sigh. That was hard to admit. Truth be told, after her reaction to him it felt like I was exposing a dirty little secret. "When I started hanging out with you guys we sort of drifted apart."

"Thank God," she said.

"Becky! That was way rude," I said, maybe a little harshly.

"What? I'm serious, thank God. You're so much better than that, Jake. You're not a creepy stalker, you're not a chubby slob. You're cool, you're..." she grabbed my hand. I pulled it away. I was upset. Upset with her for being so judgmental. Upset with Kevin for being a creep and a racist.

Upset with myself for sacrificing his friendship to become friends with Chloe and the girls.

"I am what I am, maybe that hasn't changed underneath," I said sullenly.

She looked at me fiercely and said, "You're wrong. You're mine. I love you."

Well, damn, now I really felt like shit. I knew I should respond to the last part. It was the first time either of us had said it out loud, but I was in no mindset to say it and mean it, so I kept quiet.