Heartbreak At Motel 7!

Chapter 8

I was no stranger to the dreadful feeling of embarrassment.

When I got drunk off of one glass of wine, not having had alcohol before, I was extremely embarrassed.

There was the time that I fell on my ass in front of everyone during my third grade school play, the ever so familiar feeling washed over my body in a way that made my flesh burn up in a way and my stomach drop.

This could be felt even when something bad wasn't happening directly to me.

Just upon seeing someone else do or experience something embarrassing was enough to make me look away and cringe.

Second hand embarrassment.

Surprisingly enough, ladies and gentlemen, when Vera refused to kiss me, I didn't feel embarrassment, or anything akin to it.

My body didn't heat up.
My face didn't twist into a cortorsion of shame and/or guilt for even asking.
I was simply confused.
I stared at her face as if I was trying to figure out a difficult math problem.

"No?" I asked, as if I hadn't heard her (I heard her quite fine.)
"No."

Clearly repeating the words to her wasn't going to do anything.
I made a conscientious effort to further the conversation in a way that made sense.

"Why not?" I prompted.
"Because I don't want to." Vera, ever the conversationlist, responded.

Obviously she didn't want to, or we would be kissing right now.

"Okay, but why not?" I asked again, standing up straight and composing myself.
I straightened my clothes and fixed my hair that she was pulling on just a few moments prior.

"Kissing is an emotional thing."
"Oh, And touching me like that isn't?" I tried to pull apart her already impaired logic.
"Kissing is much more intimate than me grabbing your tits and ass. You wanted to sow your wild oats, I gave that to you." Vera explained.

I continued to stare at her as if she was out of her mind.

"And how exactly did you give that to me?" I snapped.
"You can always have this story in your back pocket. Telling people that you got felt up by a stripper? Shits gold. And you get extra sprinkles on top of having a near lesbian experience. Men eat that up, like your friend out there." Vera said, referring to Daniel.
"He's not my friend."

I don't know why Vera thought that all I was doing was attempting to get a crazy experience, a notch on my belt, if you will, all to be able to cater to the male gaze.

I know that, that was a pretty common thing to do.
I've seen men became increasingly more interested in a woman due to the fact that they had a sexual experience with another woman alone, like a weird fetish thing.

So women not only catered to that by kissing other women in front of men just to gain "ooouuu"s and" "aaahhh"s, but sometimes they would just straight up lie and say that they've been with a woman just to gain a reputation of being a wild card.

Although, if I admitted to Vera that I wasn't just trying to do that, what would I say? That I liked her? This woman that I barely knew, who lived in a completely different world than what I did?

Vera stared at me with a facial expression that screamed that she was so done with this conversation.
I huffed, dusting myself off.

"You know what? Fine. I'm leaving." I said.
Vera didn't seem too displeased. Probably because that's what she wanted from the start.
"Good. If you know what's best for you, You won't come back here Charlotte. This place isn't meant for people like you."