"We can be together Rita, but I will never love you. I won't let it go that far."
His words were like a vicious bomb and utterly annihilated my self- esteem.
I guess I shouldn't have been too surprised since both us of had recently been avulsed from amorous relationships.
Nevertheless it hurt to know that I was decent enough to fuck, but not worthy enough to love.
A cacophony of snores and snorts ebbed into the bathroom as I brushed the bristles across my teeth. I began to stroke my tongue with the toothbrush to emit the crass taste of salty semen from my mouth.
Rita Ross was an abomination to all women.
I spat in the basin, turned the water on, and rinsed my mouth out thoroughly. I then retrieve my comb, swoop my tresses in a swirl, and tie my multicolored scarf around my hair. Dabbing my finger in the Vaseline, I slathered some across my lips. Finally I flipped off the bathroom light and padded into my bedroom.
I stopped and stared at the sleeping form in my bed.
It was excellent to know that I still had it. After a blowjob and sexing in a couple of kinky positions (thanks to my flexibility), I was able to knock a man unconscious.
Steven grunted and rolled over.
I despised him so much. Thoughts of killing him traveled into my head. Nah, he wasn't worthy of having a metal blade sliding transversely along his neck.
I continued on to the door, gliding it opened. I stepped onto the balcony in the forty-five degree weather, closing the door behind me.
Even though it was a cool evening, I allowed my robe to drape haphazardly off my body so that the billowing breeze could caress my body with its fingertips. It reminded me of the way Nate once touched me.
Nathan Robinson was my first and only love. It was because of him I was able to break out of that cocoon and blossom into that vibrant butterfly.
Unfortunately that vibrant butterfly was losing her colors and dying slowly.
I was an albino, and because of that I had been a docile, timid person. In high school, I wasn't social and didn't have any friends because who wanted to be friends with the "white" girl?
Then like a cliché teen movie, junior year I met Nate in my chemistry class. He was my lab partner since we were seated in alphabetical order.
I didn't think anything would prosper from it. I thought he would be like all the others - only talk to me when he wanted to copy my homework or wanted a piece of gum.
He was different. He talked to me like I was an actual human being. He was a work of art: sculpted abs, soaring height, Hershey's chocolate brown skin, dimpled cheeks, juicy lips, small gap in between his top front teeth, perfect ass, toned arms and legs. His feet were even sexy, and he was the type that would, characteristically, have girls all over his jock strap.
Like I stated before, Nate was different. He focused more on his studies, than on getting pussy unlike his best friend Steven and the other members of the various sports teams he belonged to.
Initially Nate and I didn't hook up. When he learned I didn't have any friends, he became friends with me and introduced me to his twin sister Natalie, who happened to be in my math class.
From there I bloomed. I styled my alabaster hair in diverse ways, tearing away from my habitual ponytail, wore fake nails with neon tints painted on them, embellished my face with make-up, and decorated my body with jewelry, including getting my ears, nose, lip, and bellybutton pierced. I embroiled myself with colors so I wouldn't be so plain. Natalie became my best friend; I went to parties; I even joined my first team: track.
Nathan asked me to the junior prom. Normally if a hot guy a girl had been crushing asked her to a dance, she would immediately answer him with yes. I, on the other, investigated and made sure he wasn't trying to pull a "Carrie" stunt.
I never completely obtain information that it wasn't a hoax, only the "you should go with him" from Natalie.
It ended up being the four of us: Nathan and I with Steven and Natalie. I enjoyed frolicking in my glittery magenta dress, flexing around in a stretch limousine, and receiving my first kiss.
It was like a fairy tale.
This one didn't end with us living happily ever after.
I twirled my engagement ring around my finger as the chilly wind continued to massage me, erecting my nipples. I closed my eyes, imagining it was Nate's talented tongue causing them to rise through my bra rather then the nippy weather.
When Nathan made love to me it was so passionate, so intense, so powerful. He would take me to the stars and beyond. Even though so far I had only been with two partners, I knew deep down inside I would never find a lover like him.
Steven wasn't terrible in bed, but he had a different technique. He pounded into me with his dick, and while it wasn't unpleasant, it lacked the affection I so desperately missed.
"Rita," Nate would breath in my ear while our bodies were one. "I love you." Soft kisses were placed everywhere varying from my forehead, the tip of my nose, my smoothed cheeks, the hallow of my neck, my perked nipples, and the sweetest place of all, my pink lips.
When Steven and I fucked, no words were spoken. The room illuminated with grunts and occasional moans. We had never even kissed, and the only touching that was happening (besides the obviously penis in vagina) was his calloused fingers pinching my clitoris so I would go over the edge with him.
At least he was considerate enough to do that much.
The memories of my love and I brought moisture from two places: between my legs and from my eyes.
He was my heart and soul for over five years, and in a split second my fiancé was taken from me.
I remember the headline exactly: "Twin Brother, Sister Killed By Drunken Driver." At the bottom of the newspaper page had been a picture of Nathan and Natalie beaming gleeful at their parents' twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.
When I was approached with the mind-boggling news, I didn't bawl instantaneously. It took several days for the sunshine rays of that tragedy to dawn upon me, and for weeks after that it was a never-ending waterworks.
I was hit with a double whammy because not only had I lost my best friend the love of my life, but also my other close friend, Natalie, had been torn away from me as well. Natalie had illustrated to me how to apply lip liner, encouraged me buy a bikini instead of an one-piece, scolded me when I got a B on an English test when I was capable of earning an A, defended me when someone downsized me, forced me to eventually stand up to people, pigged out on orange sherbet with me when I PSMed, loved me when I was being a bitch, sobbed with me when my mother past, cried with me again when Nathan proposed to me.
Most importantly she and her brother seized me from my black and white world, transporting me into an animated one.
Seven months after the accident, I was fading. Aside from the chipping nail enamel and the discoloration of my cerulean slippers, I was vanishing internally.
I was as empty of the vacant holes on my body which once homed my piercings.
Day by day after the twins' death, I was slipping away gradually, but I knew I was to the point of no return when I allowed myself to be Steven's sex toy.
I shouldn't make Steven out to be the bad guy because after all his been drowning in sorrow also. Steven and Natalie were together (off and on) just as long as Nathan and I were. The differences between them and us were they broke up several times, slept with other people doing the course of their relationship, and eventually had a child together. However, they were still in love with one another.
Steven and I never had gotten along. Before I grew a backbone, he was the one of the people who used to taunt me, and when I snapped back at him, we used to bicker nonstop. That's how I knew this thing that we had was strictly sexual.
Maybe he supposed that stabbing his pole inside my hole would lessen the ache of losing Natalie or even bring her back. Momentarily for me, I expected the sex to fill my hollowness.
Instead the hollowness deepened.
Steven didn't need to worry. He was a high yellow, light green eyed, had-that-sparkling-arrogant-Kool-Aid-smile stud. He could get another woman in no time.
I, the five-feet-two-one hundred-five-pound-wan-specimen could not find another mate in "no time." It had taken seventeen years for Nate to appear into my life, and at the age of twenty-two, I knew I couldn't wait another seventeen years for another companion.
Even if Steven didn't involve himself with another woman, he had family, and I didn't. My mother, who past two years ago, had been my only family. In a mass of brown faces, I was the outcast. I had been tormented, pestered, and some family members even disassociated themselves from me because how could that white snowball be blood-related?
In the time span of five years, the Robinsons had developed into my family, but now, since their children were dead, I didn't want to be a burden on them. Technically, I wasn't even their daughter-in-law, and they were raising Natalie's three-year-old daughter Galena. They believed Steven wasn't responsible enough for the task of being a single parent, and I didn't blame them.
I was pursuing a career in education. I longed to become a guidance counselor in a school so I can aid troubled kids in order so their educational experience would be more delightful than mine.
How could I help someone else if I couldn't even help myself?
Peering onto the street below from my nineteenth floor apartment, I eyed a group of people, dressed in flamboyant attire, hurrying to their late-night destination. I asphyxiated in the fact that I didn't belong in their world. I was like the insignificant object left not shaded in a child's coloring book.
I shrugged my robe and toed my slippers off. I unclasped my bra, shaking it off and jerked my panties down, stepping out of them. I snatched the scarf from my head and snapped off my press-on nails. I stood there in my naked pale glory.
Finally I removed the only jewelry I wore: my engagement ring. "I love you, Nathan Robinson," I whispered softly. I kissed the ring and set it on the concrete. I scooped up a nail and kissed it too.
"I love you too, Natalie."
I gazed at the chromatic disarray of nails, slippers, a robe, lingerie, and a ring.
Then I jumped.