Heartbreak At Motel 7!

Chapter 15

I sat at the breakfast table with my family. We exchanged pleasantries, or at least they did, as we each picked and bit at our food.

There was a whole set up. The table held pancakes, strawberries, eggs, sausages, toast, and more. Even freshly baked croissants.

To say that I was scarfing everything down was an understatement.
I took a sip of juice to compensate for all the food that I had just stuffed my face with.

I made a point out of finishing my food, especially when my mother went out of her way to prepare everything. Not just because it would hurt her feelings if we didn't eat what she had made.

I hated those movie scenes where the family has a nice, big breakfast that the mother put her sweat and tears into, and the father just grabs a slice of toast and says, "I'm gonna be late for work." before leaving.

No, no. We'll have none of that.
My family was very traditional, so we all sat together in false harmony.
My brother rubbed the sleep from his eyes, my father read the newspaper and my mother smiled at the simple fact that we were all enjoying a nice meal to start the day together.

My father watched from his peripheral vision as I took a bite of toast after shovelling scrambled eggs into my mouth.

"Eating your feelings again?" He asked, a question that sounded condescending but that's just because of the way he talks.

Also, I actually was eating my feelings.
It had been a week since I had sex with Vera, and we have had absolutely no contact since.

"No. What makes you say that?" I lied as I swallowed my food.
"Exams are coming up, and you always eat more when the time arrives." My father explained his thought process, clueless as to what was actually leaving me unsettled, "Don't worry kiddo, You'll do great."

His words went unnoticed by me. My scholastic career was in no way occupying my thoughts.

The situation with Vera hung over my head, to the point where I was even thinking about it in the midst of "studying" with Marsha.

I put studying in quotation marks because all we did was sit in the library in the middle of the day while she scribbled drawings on her page.
I watched her absentmindedly.

"Do you think it's okay to not talk to someone after being intimate with them?" I spoke abruptly.
Marsha stopped drawing, looking at me with a raised eyebrow, "Intimate?"

I admit that my vocabulary could use some polishing up, adding a bit of colloquial language in the mix would probably help me in terms of blending in with my peers.

"Yeah." I replied.
"You mean like fucking?"
"...Yeah."

Marsha shrugged as she continued scribbling, "It depends on the situation."
"What do you mean?"
"A lot of people have sex with no strings attached. So staying in contact isn't necessary. Not until they wanna have sex again, at least." Marsha bestowed her knowledge upon me.

I pondered on her words for a moment.

I spoke again, "What if you're not sure if there are strings attached, or not? And you just so happened to end up having sex with someone, and now they're not talking to you?"
"I mean if they stopped talking to you after having sex, then it should be obvious that there were no strings attached."

I drank in all the information, sinking in my seat slightly.
Marsha looked at me strangely, "Um...Did this happen to you?"
"No." I lied quickly, "It happened to a friend of mine."

She continued eyeing me suspiciously.

"Your only friends are me and the guys."
"I have other friends." I defended myself.
Marsha teased me, "And these friends actually exist, right? In the real world?"