C h a p t e r S e v e n
I waited for my mother to appear anytime as I paced around the house, wondering how I could possibly approach the situation.
I had always been curious about the whole situation with my dad, but never had the courage or time to ask my mom. How was I even supposed to suddenly start a conversation with my mother in a topic which I had never showed any interest in?
Mom, I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me.
No, that sounds too much like something a mom would say.
Hey mom! Here, have some tea. By the way, why did my dad leave us? It's because you're a stripper right?
Absolutely not, It would probably end up in my mom spitting out her tea at my face.
I heard the familiar sound of the door clicking open, and for God knows what reason, I suddenly felt the need to hide. I ducked behind the couch, silently hoping that my mom would walk right past me without noticing.
Damn it, Virginia. What are you doing? You're supposed to finally ask her, not be scared!
What was I even scared of? I didn't understand.
Maybe I was just scared of finding out the real reason my father left me, and that it wasn't because of my mom. It was simply because he didn't love me and felt no need to stay.
Where the hell did that come from? My internal war was finally interrupted when my mother poked my shoulder.
Unsure of what to do, I just stayed there, my face leaning against the back of the couch.
Great, how was I supposed to explain this situation to my mom?
"Virginia?" Poke.
"Virginia?" Another poke. This time, it was harder.
"Hey, are you okay?" She poked again.
I shut my eyes tight, and without turning to look at her, my mouth suddenly formed words and sounds that I hadn't planned on saying. "Mom. What was the real reason that my dad left me?"
I felt the fingers of my mother slowly move away from my shoulder, the pressure that was there quickly disappearing. I turned around, my legs still in a position where I was squatting down, and faced my mother. My dark brown eyes met her beautiful green ones, her eyes had a swirl of emotions in them. I slowly stood up, reaching my full height, and my mother got out of her bending-down position, towering over me.
"Sweetie, I-" She hesitated for a moment before continuing, "Where did this come from?"
Deciding that if I wanted to find out the truth, I had to tell the truth too.
I sighed, knowing this would have a lot of complications.
"My friend in school has been tutoring me lately, and when I went over to his house, I met a guy named Christian. He says he knows you and your dad and attended the same year as you until you dropped out. I didn't know why, but I asked him for the reason that Dad left us. I guess that I thought if I asked you, I wouldn't have gotten an honest answer and that Christian would have given me the answer that I was hoping to be true. Instead, he asked me to ask you, so that's what I'm doing," I rambled, not stopping once to take a breath of air. I watched my mothers eyes turned from concern, to shock, and then to confusion.
She scrunched up her perfectly arched brows, looking at me with a confused expression, her head tilted to the side and her lips slightly pouted. "What was the answer that you're hoping to be true?"
I didn't want to answer this question. She had indirectly hurt me a lot, but she was the one who stayed and took care of me. She was the one person who had constantly cared for me although we weren't even really closely bonded.
When I felt completely alone in this world, there was something that was tugging at my heartstrings, pulling, reminding, begging for me to notice it. To notice that there was one reason that I wasn't alone.
And that reason was my mother.
I let out a long breath before saying, "I have always blamed you for him leaving. I think that he left because of your job."
I absolutely and indefinitely loved her, but I just couldn't help myself but to blame her for all the misfortunes that took place in my life. I was too selfish to see past the fact that my mother had nothing to do with the misfortunes, instead, it was me who kept overthinking things, always finding a reason to hate my mother more, wanting her to hate me because I felt like I didn't deserve to be loved.
I'm not even sure what made me have those thoughts, I think it's because almost all the love I had in my life had been sucked out of it while my mother was there. The selfish part of me took over, wondering what it would have been like if my mother was different.
Would I have lived the same, bitter life just as fate has planned out for me? Or would I be smiling right now, my heart being filled up with content and joy?
There was always the possibility of the latter, and that possibility was what fueled me, urged me to keep blaming my mother for the crappy life that I lead.
"What?" My mother breathed, hurt evident in her eyes and disbelief laced the tone of her voice. "You're blaming me? Me? You think he left because of my job? You think that I had chased him away with my ways? Virginia, I-" She paused, shutting her eyes for a brief second, before opening her eyes.
Oh, how I wished I hadn't seen the emotion that was currently swirling through her beautiful green eyes.
That raw emotion that I had seen was completely and utterly distorting her face. Her face had morphed into something that I had never seen her do, something I never thought my mother felt.
Pure, raw sadness.
My mother was sad. My mother is sad.
Not just right now, in this current situation. She had been sad since I was born.
She had been sad since her parents disowned her.
She had been sad since the day she dropped out of school.
She had been sad since the day she got a job as a stripper to support me.
And now, seventeen years later, she's still sad. Even, sadder now, because the daughter she had been sad for for the past seventeen years had never even once noticed how alone, sad, and depressed she was.
"Virginia, he didn't leave us because of my job. He left us because he wanted his."
• • •
I waited for Troye, sitting in his bedroom, staring at his collection of books. I subconsciously walked my way over to the wooden shelf situated next to his door, running the tip of my index finger through the rough material that was the spine of the book.
This is my first time being in Troye's bedroom, and probably my last.
When I came here, his mother ushered me into his room, saying that there were soon going to be guests over, and I should stay in the room with Troye.
I heard the sound of water splashing against the ground, signifying that he was taking a shower.
A pretty long ass shower, might I add.
The faint sound of him singing in the shower slowly started to increase, his horrible singing skills making me giggle uncontrollablly. Trying to stifle my laughter by keeping one hand clamped over my mouth and the other searching for my phone to record this precious moment.
When I finally felt the cold metal of my cellphone in my bag, I fished it out, swiping the screen of the phone upwards to immediately access the camera app.
I quickly pressed the record button, quietly inching my way closer to the door of the bathroom. My entire body was shaking with laughter now, my hands unable to keep still as I shook the phone in my hand, trying to silently laugh.
Suddenly, the singing stopped and I heard the shower turn off, before the doorknob of the bathroom turned, causing the door to open.
I didn't have the time to stop recording or close my eyes, not wanting to see him in just a towel, because that would be awkward beyond belief.
Except, he wasn't in his towel.
He wasn't in anything.
"AAHH!" I yelled, my eyes wide and my hand shutting my mouth to cover my involuntary yell.
Troye stood there, frozen like a fucking doll, staring at me with his eyes wide and his lips parted.
His entire body was soaked in water, his hair was wet with droplets of water dripping down onto the floor. His stomach had a perfect set of abs, probably all the muscle gain through football training.
Sure, I had seen some of the other footballers abs, there were better and there were ones which were not as defined.
But Troye, Troye had the perfect shape. It wasn't too defined, yet defined enough to outline the shape of the packs, giving me a fantastic view. The droplets of water that layered his stomach was dripping, sliding down his stomach to his-
I squeezed my eyes shut, my body whining from the lack of view. "IM NOT LOOKING!" I yelled.
I don't know why I'm yelling, okay? I just felt the need to.
Five seconds after my eyes were shut, I heard some shifting, and thats when I suddenly remembered.
Holy shit, I had Troye Evans' nudes. And he didn't even notice.
• • •
After that whole awkward situation ended, Troye and I got down to studying. In his room. On his bed.
After about three weeks of Troye's tutoring, I must say, Physics wasn't really that much of a pain in the ass.
And neither was Troye.
"Lets take a break, I'm bored," I drawled out, trying to get rid of the awkward tension that currently filled the air.
Troye snapped his book shut and looked at me, waiting for a suggestion of what we should do know.
"Twenty questions?" I asked. It always happened like this: We would study, I'd get bored. And then, we would either eat, watch a movie, or play stupid games.
As of right now, we were at the 'play stupid games' part of the whole thing.
It started with the usual 'what's your favourite something'.
"Why don't you drink?" I asked him, genuinely curious, remembering the countless times I had seen him in after parties sitting down on a couch looking like he wanted to be anywhere but at the party.
"I simply don't like alcohol." Was his simple answer. I understood his answer, my mother didn't like alcohol either. Not that she told me, but the lack of beer and alcohol bottles in the house and the fact that she never came home drunk kind of hinted it.
"Why do you drink?" He asked me his back leaning against the headboard of the bed, while I was sitting to the opposite of him.
"Because I can do things that I won't do sober when I'm drunk," I simply shrugged, hoping he wouldn't pry.
"Why are you called the school's nerd? You're pretty cool," I stated, somewhat knowing how he became the school's nerd but not knowing the proper and full story.
"Once upon a time, girls were trying to hit on me. I rejected them, they got mad, called me gay but settled on nerd instead." He said, as if he has recounted the story a million times. He was smart, so I understood why they chose to call him a nerd. But still, it made zero sense to terrorize a guy just because they rejected you.
"How about you? Why are you the slut?" He asked, not bothering to sensor any of the words.
"I enjoy sex. Don't really see what is wrong with that," I lied. It's not that I don't enjoy sex, I do, it's just that I'm doing it for all the wrong reasons. He looked uncomfortable right when I said that, leaning his head against the headboard and shifting uncomfortably. His pink lips parted, almost as if to say something, but no sound came out.
Suddenly, an idea popped into my head.
We were in Troye's bed, with the door closed, all alone.
This could be perfect.
"Have you... lost your first kiss?" I asked, peering at him through my lashes, leaning closer to him, hoping that this would work out.
"Wh- what?" Troye choked out, clearly not expecting the change of mood, watching as I lifted one of my legs to straddle him. He shifted his stretched out legs, his eyes widening, but it never left my body once.
"Do you.. want to kiss me?" I asked him, wrapping my arms around his neck and smiling at him, taking in his face that was a mix of panic, confusion and something else that I couldn't lay my finger on.
Oh my god, what am I doing. I should stop. I can't do this sober.
But why does it all feel so natural then?
I felt my heart pound against my chest, even my body was pleasantly surprised bit what I had done. My hands were shaking as I felt the warmth of his neck, his heat radiating off him and warming my body up.
This is so comfortable.
Troye looked at me, his eyes darkening and at the same time a little uncomfortable.
"It's not- it isn't your turn to ask," he stuttered, not taking his eyes off of me as I started to move my head closer to him.
I leaned into him, my eyes burning holes into his as I softly brushed my lips against his warm, moist ones. I felt his hands hesitantly slide around my waist, wrapping me in a hug. I looked into his brown eyes, seeing an emotion which I couldn't identify.
I trailed kisses up his jaw, feeling his grip on my waist tighten. His slight stubble tickled my lips, sending tingles shooting through my entire body.
This felt so.. so extraordinary. I had never felt the way I had about kissing his jawline when I kissed anyone else's lips. Our close proximity and intimate state send my heart into frenzy, pumping hard and fast. My brain felt useless and weak, melting just as the rest of my body was under Troye's touch.
I looked into his eye, leaning into his lips, wanting- needing to kiss him, to know what his lips would fee like moving against mine.
Would it feel just like all my other drunken kisses? It was obvious that Troye hadn't kissed a girl before, so would it be terrible and sloppy?
But I never got to find out, because right as I was about to go in for the kill, the door slammed open.
• • •
a/n: as u guys know, this is a short story. it's coming to an end soon. thank you to all three or four of my frequent readers/voters, it means so much to me ❤️
do remember to vote and comment!
xo, venus