Unwarranted

Lies and Propaganda

I storm into my apartment, furious. The entire walk home, I just got madder and madder. All I could think about was the shit-talking session the boys were having about me in their kitchen after I left. Brad probably joined in on the fun. He must be having the time of his fucking life explaining what happened to them.

I throw my keys on my bedside table, then throw myself on the bed. It creaks as my body crashes into it, and the realization that I need a new one hits me hard. This is the first time I have woken up in a very long time without a sore back. Thanks to Brad Pino's probably very expensive Tempurpedic or something.

Jerk.

I call out Ali's name, hoping she randomly appears in my doorway.

I need to vent before I explode.

But, there's no sign of her, which means she soon will be on her own walk of shame. I'm almost positive she'll have a better one than me. Unless her hook-up has the World's Second Worst Roommates.

I reach for my phone and send her a text.

Leila: Have a good night? ;-)

Ali almost immediately responds with:

Mediocre.

I bet your night was Brad-tastic.

I want to be mad, but it is kind of funny.

Leila: Do you think you're funny?

Ali: Somebody should get me a special on Comedy Central.

Leila: Update you when you're home, babes. x

I throw my phone down on my bed and prop myself up on my elbows. I look around at my room, unsure of what to do with myself. There's a pile of homework on my desk that needs to be completed, but with all that happened, I can't focus on those. My eyes shift to my closet. Which, thanks to Ali, is now a mess. There are more clothes on the floor than on their hangers. I could clean, but I suppose I should clean myself first.

I groan, force myself out of bed, and crawl towards the shower. I throw my clothes in the hamper, then slip inside the glass oasis. That's right. An oasis. My holy place.

I love showers.

I could take a million a day if it wouldn't completely wreck my skin.

The water is scalding. It turns my flesh a light red color, but the burn is welcomed. I need to burn away the feeling those boys left behind.

Nothing I did was wrong.

But, that Gavin idiot has a way of making my skin crawl.

He's invasive and the worst human to exist on planet Earth. And, that's saying a lot considering how many assholes walk the planet.

It makes me sick that Brad is friends with those people. It makes me even sicker that I fell into his trap. Not because I'm disgusting for having a one-nighter with Brad, but because I'm weak. I cracked, so he got what he wanted.

After thirty minutes have gone by and I finally feel rid of all the shit-things that have happened in the last twelve hours, I step out. My skin is shocked by the change in temperature, and a chill runs through me. I dry off, then bolt into my room for a change of clothes. I put on an over-sized sweater and yoga pants for the perfect lazy Sunday.

That's what today will be. Perfect.

I will not think about Brad or his crude friends. All I will think about is my term paper, Gilmore Girls, and food.

That's right. That's it.

About an hour later, I'm sunk into the couch with my laptop resting on my thighs, two textbooks open beside me, and Gilmore Girls on the television.

I'm more paying attention to what's on television than my homework. But in the last hour, I've managed a paragraph, which is progress.

Halfway through Lorelai having another heart-to-heart with her daughter, Ali bursts through the front door. She has a smile spread from ear-to-ear as she prances in and plops down on the couch beside me.

"And, how was your night?" I ask suspiciously. I already know it was good, but for someone who called it mediocre, she seems very giddy.

"Like I said, mediocre."

"Then why do you have a Joker-sized grin plastered across your face?"

"Because," she sighs a happy sigh, "He was a gentleman."

"You finally hooked up with someone who isn't a total jerk?" I snort a laugh, "Consider me amazed."

She glares at me, "Smart-ass."

I smile because she knows I'm messing with her. "Fill me in," I close my laptop and books and push them to the side.

She eagerly does so. Her blue eyes beam as she tells me every detail of her night. She explains the sex, the mediocre-ness of it, and how he made up for it. He made her breakfast the next morning, and they had a meaningful conversation about their lives and dreams. She says he was cute and gentlemanly and like no other one-night stand she ever experienced before.

"He wants to see me again," she finishes with. She drags her bottom lip between her teeth, "I think I'm going to turn him down."

"What?" I was not expecting that, "Are you kidding me?"

"What's the big deal? He was a hit-and-run. That's all."

"That is not all," I sternly say, "You just spent the last twenty minutes going goo-goo-gaga for this boy. Now you're telling me, that all of that was nothing but a hit-and-run? That guy was totally into you!"

"I know he was, but I haven't been in a relationship in years. It freaks me out."

"You can't be single forever, Ali. Just, give it a try. If you have another date with him and he sucks, then never see him again."

"What if it's all just a bunch of lies and propaganda? You know, make yourself seem too good to be true, then suck later in the relationship."

"Then you live, and you learn."

She teases, "You ever get tired of being right?"

"Do you ever get tired of being bossy?"

"Touche," she laughs, then jumps from the couch, "Enough about me. I'm dying to hear about your night, but first I need to wash the smell of sex and bacon away," she makes a face.

"Alright," I open my laptop back up, "Have a good time in there, Ali."

She shoots me a wink, "I always do."

"You're vile."

She shrugs, then prances off to the bathroom while shouting, "Only sometimes!"