"Define SLUT"
Amanda is a slut.
At least that's what everyone says.
"She probably opens her legs more often than a prostitute does."
"Look at her clothes. No wonder she gets laid so often."
Walking through the campus of her college, she can't help but overhear the vile words, said in loud audible voices. As if it doesn't matter if she hears them. And why would it matter, she shouldn't care. Right? Doesn't it come with the slut package? To hardly give a shit for anything which is not sex? Rolling her eyes out of habit, she continues walking, her thick skin allowing none of it to get to her.
At least that is what she convinces herself.
You see, Amanda is a slut. A girl who likes to have sex. A girl who likes to explore, to have fun, to have sex.
Walking into the ladies room, she spots two girls, talking so casually and goofily that she can't help but envy them. When they notice Amanda walk in, they pause and both smile at her politely. Amanda smiles back and turns to look in the mirror.
"You know," one of the girls speaks up, "Your skirt is to die for. It's really cute."
Amanda turns back to them and notices the blonde smiling at her. Nodding happily, she looks down at the skirt in appreciation. It's a snakeskin printed mini skirt, her best skirt. Her favourite one. A gift her younger sister had given her on her 21st birthday, hiding it from their mother, careful not to show the piece of clothing their mother would so surely disapprove of. Her sister had seen Amanda eye the skirt in a store, that is why she had used all her savings from her part-time job to buy it.
She looks back at them and pulls a genuine bright smile on her face, "Thanks!"
The girl nods and turns back to the mirror. Amanda does the same, and a few seconds later, the girls exit the room, leaving her alone to her thoughts.
She adjusts her top and pats her hair down. She likes to look hot, her outer appearance aiding her to display the confidence she so desperately wishes she had. Retouching her lip gloss, she takes one last look at herself and walks out.
And immediately, she bumps into someone.
Looking up, she comes face to face with an extremely good looking guy. The guy looks like her senior, a year older than her. His tall frame is only a little higher than her own, Amanda standing at a height of 5'8. His soft dirty blonde hair is shining under the harsh ceiling lights. His face is a little tanned, teeth straight and eyes the deepest shade of the ocean.
She smirks as his eyes slowly rake over her body. His eyes linger for a second at her chest, eyes filling with lust. Amanda clears her throat, and he looks up into her eyes, noticing her smirk and pulling a smirk of his own.
"What's your name?" he asks her.
"You're in quite a hurry to know," she teases. He smiles and leans ahead. It doesn't matter if they're on a busy college campus, she figures it's no harm for a quickie, pulling him through the doors and right inside.
Luckily, the ladies room is empty, and Amanda takes her sweet time to lock the door and turn to him. In a swift motion, he greedily smashes his lips against hers and grabs her ass with both his hands, lifting her up so that she straddles him. Amanda lets out a moan, pushing her hands through his hair and her lower body into his. He groans into her mouth and lets her down, one of his now free hands squeezing her boobs through her top. He pulls the top down in one swift motion, freeing her of the constricting material. Bringing his mouth to her perked nipples, he licks the buds and sucks on them, eliciting yet another loud moan from her. Her own hand makes its way to his sweatpants, pulling the elastic ahead and diving in, grabbing his throbbing member in her hand.
The minute her hand reaches him though, he turns aggressive, pushing her against the wall with force bigger than she expected. He hastily gathers her skirt around her waist and pushes her panties aside. Amanda doesn't like the way he's treating her, how his hands are making her feel like a rag doll, so she says no. He doesn't hear her, she assumes, so she says no again, a little louder this time.
He still doesn't stop.
"STOP!" she screams this time, pushing him away.
This time, he acknowledges the word, a sinister look making its way to his eyes.
"Why should I?"
"Because this," she gestures between the two of them, "is over," Amanda says. Instead of backing off, he takes a step towards her, a dangerous slow step like a predator stalking his prey.
"You're a little slut. You don't get to decide," he sneers. He tries to push her again, but this time Amanda is ready, dodging the attack.
"You whore. Don't lie and say that you didn't like it. Your dirty moans were enough of an answer for me. Stop playing around, and fucking satisfy me."
A chill runs down her spine, finally registering the situation she is trapped in. He takes 2 more steps towards her, and she takes a deep breath and does what she does the best.
She kicks him in his guts.
Stumbling back by the force of the kick, he lets out a groan and looks up at her. He struggles to stand upright, hunched over slightly, trying to catch his breath and raises his head slowly.
"YOU'RE GONNA PAY FOR THIS, WHORE!" he shouts and charges towards her with double the force he was using before. She dodges it yet again, this time planting her feet into the ground firmly and closing her hands into fists. She swings her arm back and lands a punch to his face. He stumbles, and she takes this opportunity to grab him by the shoulder and raise her knee, kneeing him straight into the place where the sun doesn't shine. He doubles over in pain, a string of curses flowing out of him. When he looks up at her this time, he doesn't make any move towards her.
Scoffing darkly, he spats out the words that hit her straight to her soul, "You're a fucking whore, you slut. You don't deserve shit. Go rot in hell," and walks straight out the door.
She stands rooted to her place for what seemed like hours, although in reality, they were mere minutes. Finally, she takes a deep breath, she walks to the mirror. Adjusting her clothes, patting her hair down, retouching her lip gloss, but not once looking into the mirror.
Soon, the silence around her becomes deafening, the walls start closing around her as she struggles to breathe. So, she sings. She hums the song she sang to her little sister ever since she was 3 and her sister was a tiny baby. She hums the song as if her life depends on it, and it probably does. Finally gaining enough courage to look back into her reflection, she notices that she looks fine.
Hot, even.
But just because she looks fine, doesn't mean she is, right?
After all, physical injury shows, but who asks about the mental wounds?
***
She plasters a smile across her face and walks out. When a smile is on your face, no one suspects anything. She thinks about what happened, what would have happened had she not defended herself. For reasons unknown to her, she feels miserable, guilty. She is a slut, a whore, so she deserves to be treated like one. Right? He wasn't wrong. He just wanted to have fun. He was just treating her like she deserves to be tre-
She bumps into someone again, and this time she freezes, not looking up just yet. Memories of the incident which happened just a few minutes ago pour back into her mind, and she closes her eyes. A shiver of fear runs through her. She can't have bumped into the same person for the second time.
"Are you alright, miss?" a deep voice asks her.
And she looks up. Not because the voice is a weird mixture of rough and smooth, calming her nerves like coffee on a stressed day. Not because his hand on her shoulder makes her feel warm, safe even. Not even because he asked her a question.
No, she looks up because of the question.
No one's really ever asked her how she is.
Looking up to see the darkest shade of caramel eyes looking at her with genuine worry and the kindest smile stretched across his lips, she can't help but feel dirty about herself.
She is a slut. Sluts don't deserve nice guys. She doesn't deserve shit.
Putting on her brave face, she smiles at him and replies, "Ya, I'm okay."
He doesn't look too convinced, but again, nothing about him is too convincing, concludes Amanda. She doesn't believe how his eyes haven't wandered down to her chest already. Or better, her whole body. She doesn't believe how he is still looking at her with concern despite the fact that she just gave him an answer, albeit a lie.
"Why is it that I don't believe you?" he asks.
Amanda frowns, "Even if I'm not okay, it's none of your business."
He lets out a small breath and puts his hands up in mock surrender, "Fine. Don't tell me just yet. Which class are you going to?"
And there it is, the subtle flirting. The good guys are the most dangerous ones. A wolf in sheep's clothing.
"Why should I tell you?"
He smiles again and chuckles, "You're a tough cookie. Fine, let me tell you the truth now. You look awfully disturbed. I want to help. I have experience with girls, having 2 sisters. I know when something is wrong. Let me help you today. If you want, after today we'll never meet again. We'll go separate paths, we won't even acknowledge each other in college. Sounds like a plan?"
Amanda looks at him flabbergasted. Is she that easy to read?
"Whoever you are, you're not my saviour. I don't need saving. So fuck off and mind your own business," her words are sharp like her walls are lined with spikes, piercing everyone who dares to wander close.
He takes a small step back and smiles at her gently, "I'm not trying to be a hero. I'm trying to make you forget your issues for a day. It would've bothered me the entire day had I not said anything. It's human nature to help others grow. I'm sorry if you felt offended. I'll leave you to it then. Have a great day!"
She watches as he turns around and walks away. And just like that, her instincts take over, and her mouth opens, a shout on her lips.
"Wait!"
He pauses in his steps and turns around. There's a question in his eyes as he tries to understand the reason behind her call. Amanda walks to him and looks into his eyes, trying to detect any ulterior motive. But all she finds is a desperate wish for her to say yes.
She lets a small smile slip on her lips and nods.
"Alright. Let's do this. One day, that's all, okay?" Amanda says to him. His eyes lighten up in relief and excitement. Smiling, he extends his hand to her, urging her to place her hand in his. He feels terrified as the pretty yet broken girl in front of him takes a moment to think. He saw the pain in her eyes the minute she bumped into him. He doesn't know why he made the offer to her. He doesn't know what happened to the beautiful girl in front of him to make her lose all her spark. All he knew was his gut screaming at him, giving him desperate signals to do something.
So he did.
She nods to herself and tentatively places her hand in his, and he quickly tightens his hold.
And in that second, he realises what his gut was trying to say. No, she doesn't need saving. She needs a friend. And that's what he's going to be for her. Even if she decides after this day ends that she wants no connection to him, he's still gonna be the best friend he can be to her in the twenty-four hours ahead of him.
He's going to be her constant today. And if she allows it, he's going to be her constant forever.
Amanda looks at him as they both walk hand in hand out of college. The whispers are different this time. Still audible enough for her though.
"Why is he holding the slut's hand?"
"The dude is going to get heartbroken."
She loosens her hold on his hand, but he holds on tighter.
"Ignore those idiots. Jesus, people have their own lives. Let them live it for god's sake. Honestly, if they're still gossiping in college, I need to know what their major is, because mine doesn't even allow me to breathe, let alone gossip. Not that I ever gossiped before, but I have definitely watched Gossip Girl. Perks of having two sisters, amirite? Anyway, tell me about you. What's your name?"
"Amanda," she replies amusedly.
He smiles before continuing, "Nice to meet you. I'm Jason, your guide and distraction for the day. Also, my sisters would love that skirt. Just saying."
This causes her to laugh on a day she didn't think laughing was possible, his mannerisms already making her forget about her inner demons. A warm feeling fills him when he hears her laugh, making him want to keep saying things that would get that reaction out of her. Amanda feels a warm feeling of her own filling her, the talk of his sisters reminding her of her own. She would love him, Amanda thinks. Looking back at him and down at their intertwined hands, she smiles to herself.
Even a slut deserves a break. And this is hers.
***
I wrote this so freaking long ago and it's still up on anymes account right now! But I figured not a lot of people must've known about this, so here it is. I've written a long-ass author's note there but the main theme is: Girls who love sex are called sluts, guys who love sex are called playboys. Two completely different terms and a completely different vibe. One is an insult, one is an honour.
Go figure. Rant on this line I will be ranting along.
Anywhooo, I will be writing more bonus chapters (for now I have: Mia and Eli & Graduation) so if you have more ideas you want me to write about, TELL ME PLS PLS!! also, im uncomfy bec of the almost smut so pls tell me how you like the chapter pls?
ANYWAY, Gonna go now. Ciao!!
Love,
Anya <3