The Dilemma

chapter 1

So, here I am, walking into work, for the start of my last week. I'm going to miss my coworkers so much when I leave. I won't know anyone in the town where my parents live, since we moved there in the middle of my senior year of high school. Luckily, we were close enough to my old high school that I didn't have to transfer, but that came with the new challenge of trying to make friends as an adult outside of school.

As I ponder how I got to this point, I get started on opening up the store. I check that the machines are turned on, the ingredients are stocked, and that my opening buddy is ready to go. It's not necessarily a busy time of year, as most students are stuffing themselves in the library, backpacks stuffed with books, notes, and snacks, cramming at the last minute for finals, and wrapping up final projects. That being said, it's definitely not slow, like it is during winter break. As I open up the gates, my supervisor, Ronnie, saunters in, a coffee in hand.

"What's up Astoria? How was the party last night?" He asked, grabbing an apron and tying it around his waist. He double checks that everything is stocked and ready to go, before grabbing his clipboard to start the weekly inventory check.

"It was pretty good actually, got some dick, so I'm one step closer to being over him."

Ronnie high fives me, and asks no more about it. Which, to be fair, I am perfectly okay with. If I wanted to give more details out, I would have, and if he wanted to hear more he would have asked. He'll probably ask for more details later when he wakes up more, but for now, we clean up what little mess there is in a music filled silence.

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As I'm heading home from work, I get a phone call from my friend Chelsea, asking if I'm going to the party tonight or not. But well, of course I am. She confirms what time she'll be by to pick me up, and we hang up with a see you later.

I probably drink way too much, and way too often, considering how little I eat and how poorly I take care of myself. But, drinking is better than the alternative. Given the option between getting stuck in my depression and self loathing, or getting drunk and having a good time with friends. I'll choose getting drunk and forgetting it all over self loathing any day. I save the self loathing for when I'm trying to go to sleep.

Not that I really sleep much these days. It takes me forever to fall asleep, unless I'm drunk off my ass or high as a kite. And even then, if I'm lucky, I sleep for maybe 4-5 hours straight. Otherwise I'm up every hour or so, and unable to fall asleep for at least another half hour. Honestly, weed is the only thing that lets me sleep more than 5 hours, and alcohol lets me sleep for roughly 4 hours. Granted, I am falling asleep at like 3 in the morning and waking up at 7 or 8.... But still.

I long for the day I sleep a full 8 hours. I did that, actually, a couple weeks ago. My body had no idea how to handle the good sleep I got. It was kind of surreal.

As I walk in the front door, I'm greeted by a lovely cacophony of dishes clanging, showers going, and roommates yelling at each other.

"Jessica, did Chels get a hold of you for tonight?" my roommate, Marissa asked our other roommate.

"Yeah dude, she said she called up Astoria already too," she responded, yelling down the hallway.

I peek my head into the kitchen. "Yeah, hello, Astoria is here, and is going to shower after Kristy so she can get ready to get very drunk tonight!"

I walk into the kitchen and grab a glass from the cupboard, filling it with cold water from the sink.

"Yo dude are you gonna tell us about last night? Paul told us you left with Patrick last night, and then you didn't come back till like 30 minutes before your shift this morning," Jessica said, finally joining us in the kitchen.

Sipping my water, I smile, before telling them about last night.

"Okay, so," I recount, "I didn't really expect it to happen, at all. But he's been trying for the past few weeks to hook up, and I finally said, fuck it, I'm in, let's do it. I've been trying to get over Axel, forget about what he did to me, and move on from this. Doing nothing isn't going to help in the long run I'm told. So we're sitting in one of the rooms, with a few people, passing around a bong while he and some of the guys play Mario Kart Double Dash on the Gamecube. While I'm sitting on the floor in front of him, my head on his lap, and his legs on either side of me as he sits on the couch, I start teasing him little by little."

"I was slowly moving my hands up his legs in languid strokes, just absentmindedly petting his leg while he was playing his game. He gets up from the couch, asks me if I'd like a drink, and takes me to the kitchen where the drink table is. After he makes me a drink, he and I go back to the game room, where he has me sit on the couch on his lap. At this point, the room is dark except for the menu screen and we're the only two in there. We start making out on the couch, and I start getting horny, so I begin to play with his junk, doing whatever I can to elicit a reaction out of him."

"It definitely worked, because next thing I know, we're heading out the door towards his place. Once we get there, we get to his room, and he has this huge ass king size bed. Like California King size. Anyway, we start making out more, and taking off clothes, and then he pushes me back onto the bed, before reaching down to pull out straps for my ankles. He asks me if I'm okay with this development, and once I confirm I am, he straps my ankles down. I've never been tied down, but good LORD HAVE MERCY i was supremely turned on by it. I swear to god, I came like 12 times, and we went at it for at least 2 and a half hours. Best sex ever man, I'm tellin ya."

"So are you gonna see him again? Do it again tonight?" She asks.

"Nah, probably not," I shrug.

I think I'm good on sex for now. I'm moving next week, so I'm not trying to get attached to anyone or any dick right now. I'm glad my roommates don't judge me for my bad habits.

I have quite a few of those. Bad habits. Terrible thing to have. My best friend actually has a book on how to break your bad habits. It's probably really eye opening. I have no interest in reading it or getting rid of these bad habits of mine. I'd rather be numb than feel at this point.

I get ready to shower, and hop in once the water reaches a tolerable temperature. It's an "everything shower" day, so I exfoliate and shave my legs while my hair mask works its magic. I think about what Axel did to me, and feel sorry for myself. Honestly, I'm still upset.

It's not even the breakup that upsets me the most. It's not the fact that I booked a hotel room or paid for our transportation to the show, nor is it the fact that I practically had to beg him to make time to see me. It's the fact that he wouldn't even give me the tickets. I wondered why he turned out like this.

I turn off the water and step out, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my hair, twisting it on top of my head. Plucking my other towel from the rack, I wrap it around my body and make my way out the door to my room.

As I look through my clothes, deciding what to wear, I muse over last night's events. Patrick really was sweet. He made sure I came first, and multiple times, before he got his release. Anytime he did something new, he always made sure I was comfortable. I pull out a shirt and groan, realizing I wore this top at the kickback two days ago.

Ugh I need to do laundry.

I finally locate a lacy, low cut tank top to go with my favorite pair of denim shorts, and begin doing my makeup for the party.

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My roommates and I arrive at the party an hour later, each of us with some form of beverage in hand. My manager Ronnie is 21, and was kind enough to pick up a bottle of Bacardi gold rum for me to bring to the party. I asked for Malibu and fruit punch, but they were apparently fresh out at the store. Oh well, beggars can't be choosers, or whatever they say. I walk up the steps and turn around to look at my roommates, as I pull open the door.

"Well guys, let's get fucking drunk."