I raked my hand through my hair, angry about my past and pissed at myself. I hated it. I spent years living in Chicago trying to erase it. Was it all for nothing? Small town people with small town minds. How had they helped me? A nice community to grow up in? Maybe, until high school, and those proverbial fuck-filled high school days. That may have been someone else’s fond memories, but for me it had been a bunch of bullshit. At least it’d been for geeky guys like me.
Except for Aunt Melissa, I didn’t give a rat’s ass about these people and this place. If they could see me now in Chicago, with my successful job, my downtown apartment, the women I attracted, hell…. I didn’t need them, not even Lauren.
She’d hurt me more than anyone else. She stomped on my heart like a bunch of grapes until it bled out every ounce of life I had in me. At a time in my life when I was incredibly vulnerable, she waltzed in like it was nothing and turned a young high school guy’s heart into mush.
Damn, she was beautiful then and… fuck me, she was even more beautiful now. I remembered how she flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder as she walked by me in the halls. Like a moron, I’d just stand there with my books in my arms and my back glued to my locker door, staring through my thick glasses. Then, when it came time for the annual science fair, Lauren asked me to be her partner on a project and I thought it meant something.
She would come over to my house or I’d go to hers and we’d spent long hours working on it—probably more than a project of that caliber required—and I would sit close to her, close enough to smell her hair or brush against the smooth skin of her bare arm. She was a teenage boy’s dream. In those days, even an accidental touch like that would send tingles racing through my body and my inexperienced, teenage dick would get all twitchy. It was crazy—uncontrollable at that age. Something as simple as a bra advertisement in a magazine was all it took and I’d have to run to my bedroom to hide. And relieve myself. Girls, and especially Lauren, didn’t know the power they had over me. She so casually ignored my approaches when I was aching for her on the inside. I thought those days were over, but here I was, dealing with a hard-on from the mere brushing of her soft skin on mine.
I heaved out a deep breath, trying to gain control of my raging thoughts. Ten years of memories spilled through my head.
Damn my father and damn this trip. Seeing the town, going back to Dad’s house, running into old friends, it was just a matter of time and eventually old emotions would get dredged up and crush me all over again. I thought I was better than this. Apparently, I wasn’t.
The only thing to do now was to get out of here, go back to Chicago and start the process of blocking it out all over again. Because in the end, all you can do with that kind of pain is decide what you can do to make it right. Justice or revenge. What was the difference? It was like chocolate or peanut butter. People talk about closure, but I didn’t buy it. When someone blasts a hole in your heart, like Lauren did to me, it tends to stay open or, at the very least leave a huge scar. So I built walls to protect myself.
A plan was beginning to form in my mind. I needed closure. I had to get her out of my mind for good. Maybe I was right before—all I needed was one good fuck. Bend her over a chair and fuck the shit out of her. Maybe then I could forget her and move on. I was sure my wallet was thick enough for her now. Put an end to all the “What if’s,” and then go back to fucking everything with two legs and a pussy in Chicago.
I shoved my phone back in my pocket. Suddenly, I felt the need to get out of this diner. Old memories smelled up the very air in the place and I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. There was a bar just two doors down. If I was going to wait for my driver any longer, insulted by my own memories, then I was going to need a drink.
I threw some bills on top of the check and strode to the door. I wanted to scream out into the night, “Fuck you Lauren Mitchell, and all the losers in this town. This place didn’t make me who I am. I made myself, in Chicago. Fuck you all.”
I shoved my shoulder into it and barreled out the door. No sooner had my feet hit the pavement than I plowed straight into a young guy, clipping his shoulder and nearly knocking him off his feet.
“What the fuck, man?” he barked out. He had just come out of the very bar I was headed toward. His eyes were swollen slits and his face was flush. He was wasted. We both did a kind of dance, and spun around each other. I beamed a harsh warning look at him and pushed him down the sidewalk. I wasn’t in the mood to take out my anger on some idiot drunk. He did the smart thing and kept on walking, not that he was really thinking logically right now, but at least he had the sense not to mess with me. He staggered off and went around the corner to where I knew there was a back parking lot for the main street businesses. It was right next to a little park on the corner where he’d probably go to sleep it off.