Save Me

Chapter Five

Sometimes, people on campus would call my name and wave and smile, but I had no idea who they were. I just didn't care. Some people consider that being a cunt, but I was a cunt. At least I was truthful about it. People around here bored me, like they all just merged into the brick walls and stayed stuck there. Blurry, yet again. Everyone was becoming that way, in my eyes. Blurry and boring.

"No, there's no maybe about it," Evelyn continued. "I can read guys like you like a fucking book. Whether you like it or not, I've got you figured out, Isaac."

"Guys like me?" I sighed, not even really paying attention. I held my head in my hands and stared out into space. My food had probably gone cold.

"Yes, guys like you," she started, pausing in between to take a sip of her orange juice. "You like to play with girls like they're your personal toys, breaking their hearts, toying with their minds. You're the definition of a fuck boy, my darling."

"Girls?" I asked, trying to stifle a laugh.

People like Evelyn could judge me all they liked, but the majority of them had no idea who I was, what I was capable of, so they could fuck off. Besides, it kind of made me smile, realising how wrong she was about me. She had no idea that behind her back, and behind everyone's backs, I wasn't sleeping with girls at all.

Now, it wasn't even that I hid my sexuality from people, it's just that they make assumptions right away upon meeting me, like I can't possibly like guys. Like I don't enjoy their smooth, rippling bodies, or their stubble running over my bare skin, or how they moan and squeal when I fuck them dry.

Everyone around me stereotyped me, and I did nothing to stop them. In their eyes, all they saw when they glimpsed at me was a brooding fuck boy. I supposed it was because I looked conventionally straight, but appearances can be deceiving, and I'd been deceiving everyone for as long as I could remember.

I'd grown comfortable in the fake, calloused skin that encased my body. The straight skin, I would call it. The lies. In a way, I think I even liked it: people presuming I was straight. It always left them gobsmacked when they finally realised the truth. And it added a little spice to my life, when I got bored of it.

"Yes, poor, weak girls that you can slowly tear apart and break," Evelyn furthered.

"Oh, so not girls like you, then?" I asked, becoming somewhat interested. "Strong willed girls, independent girls. Girls." I played with the last word on my tongue, unsure of it.

"Obviously not," she stated. "I'm too strong for you, I have too much will power, and no insecurities for you to pray on. Feminism wins again."

My hand flew across the table and landed on hers, my eyes not leaving hers. I caught her by surprise, I could see it in her eyes. She was easier than I thought. My fingers circled over her knuckles, tickling her, sending goosebumps all the way up her arm. I could see them, they were so big. I trailed my fingers slowly up to her wrist, leaning in closer, her mouth slightly open, almost like she wanted to say something, but she couldn't quite get it out, like she'd forgotten everything.

I smiled, and blinked. I didn't know I could still do this to girls - make their hearts race and flutter, make their eyelashes batter and watch as their fingers trailed into twirling their hair longingly.

Last time I was with a girl, it didn't end well at all. I dated her for years, and eventually started regularly cheating on her. But she had the personality of a slice of bread - a very bitchy and two-faced slice of bread, unbuttered and mouldy and shit. But still a slice of bread.

"And you're sure?" I asked, running my tongue over my lower lip and clenching my fingers around Evelyn's wrist. I yanked her closer to me over the table when she shook her head, so that our faces were almost touching. Her whole body froze before me, just like all of the boys I'd seduced through the years. I definitely still had it.