Chapter 47
We settled into bed and stared up at the ceiling. I think for the first time in my life, I'd just fucked someone without that nagging fear of somebody knocking on the door or bursting in suddenly. It felt weird... after sex, my mind always turned into a whirlwind, full of thoughts about what I was living through, like it was some big important chapter in my life. Of course, deep down it was guilt—I felt guilty that everything was happening so fast. One part of me felt bad, but the other part loved it. And that thought, when it hit, would fade away quick too.
"Diana, you're so damn loud," I said, laughing and breaking the silence.
She rolled onto her side to face me, with the most beautiful smile in the world. And she was gorgeous in a way that just pissed me off.
"Shut up, girl. I couldn't even imagine you were like this, you know? I'm still in disbelief."
"Hey, if you want, I'll prove it again," I shot back, acting all bold.
"What fire is this, girl!" she said, shaking her head and laughing. "Damn... I don't think anyone's ever grabbed me like that, or made me cum so fast."
Hearing that made me swell up like a pissed-off pufferfish. I felt proud, powerful. I'd never imagined I could have that effect on someone. In my head, I was just acting on pure horniness, without thinking much. But right there... it felt like I'd discovered some new power inside me.
"For real, Diana? But I didn't do anything special... I just did what I always do," I said thoughtfully, still kinda in disbelief.
She sat up in bed, hugging her knees and pulling the sheet over herself. She had this curious look, her eyes sparkling.
"Tell me something, 'cause I'm curious... how many girls have you been with?"
Holy shit. I thought fast. No way could I spill the truth. Imagine me saying I hooked up with my cousins? I'd be totally screwed.
"Well... there was this one girl I kissed... and..." I made a gesture with my tongue, licking the air, to make it clear I'd gone down on her.
She burst out laughing.
I was talking about Carla.
"And there's this fuck buddy..." I added quick. Right then, in my head, I apologized to Mariana. "Sorry, cousin... but I can't tell the truth right now," I thought.
She just stared at me, like she was wondering if it all added up, you know, that look when someone's dying to ask a ton of questions but doesn't have the guts? That's the face she was making! I wasn't sure if I should ask about her—I'd never been curious about other people's pasts—so I stayed quiet.
The silence settled back over the room.
"Hey, let's go do that thing?" I said to break the ice.
She jumped out of bed, tossed the sheet aside, and headed straight to the bathroom for a shower. This time she didn't call me, and the sharp click of the lock from inside made it clear: I was supposed to stay out.
"Is she gonna touch herself? I'd totally rub one out right now..." I thought, laughing to myself.
But her room was calling me. There was something there, a silent invitation. I got up naked and started snooping. First, the nightstand on my side. People always keep the coolest stuff in there.
I opened the top drawer: two vibrators. "This girl's a wild one, damn! And why the fuck didn't she use this on me? I've always wanted to try..."
Deeper in, condoms, some pills, and birth control. Basic stuff.
I opened the bottom one: books, papers... and a picture frame turned face down.
"Is that her with her girlfriend? I wanna see who it is..."
I picked it up and flipped it over.
Right then, it was like getting tripped by an invisible foot. The world spun faster than I could keep up, a weird nausea rising in my stomach. Dizziness took over me completely, like the floor had vanished under my feet.
"Holy fuck..." was the only thing I could whisper.
The sound of the bathroom lock clicking froze me inside. Danger. I couldn't get caught snooping. I took a deep breath, put on my fake-ass mask, and stepped out smiling, all sneaky, just as she appeared in the doorway.
"I'm gonna go heat up the wax, won't be long, okay?" she said.
"Sure," I replied, forcing a fake laugh that almost hurt my face.
As soon as I got in the bathroom, my hands were shaking. I lifted the toilet lid, sat down, and stared at nothing. My eyes started welling up without me being able to stop it. It was just that thick, stuck sob that came out of nowhere. But I couldn't cry. Couldn't end up with puffy eyes. If she saw, she'd ask.
"How can I be so stupid?" I whispered, biting my lip. "Fuck, I'm such a dumbass!"
The image wouldn't leave my head. The photo in her drawer... it was my boyfriend with her. And as if that wasn't enough, his fucking car was in the picture too. That car I'd always hated! What the hell.
"This bitch is fucking my boyfriend..." I said to myself, my heart pounding in my throat. "And she probably knows, of course she does! Why else would she hide the picture frame face down in the drawer?"
I bent forward, holding my face in my hands. The world felt way too small. Everything right there, in the same neighborhood, like life had done it on purpose to screw me over.
"It doesn't make sense... too much of a coincidence, it can't be real..." I kept repeating, trying to find a hole in this mess.
I grabbed my phone with sweaty hands. Thought about calling Mariana. She'd know what to do, way better than me. But if I called, I'd have to explain everything. And I wasn't ready to put that in her mouth.
I needed a plan. Fast.
"Think, think, think, you idiot..." I muttered, banging my fists on my head in the best Rodin pose.
Well, first off: I couldn't, and had no right to complain that he was screwing someone else. Since I started going out with him, I'd already slept with half my family, and to make it worse, I'd just eaten out his girlfriend.
"Fuck, why did I have to be such a goddamn slut? I can't even complain about shit! What the fuck..." I said way too loud, almost choking on my anger.
Okay, if I couldn't complain, at least I could figure out where I stood. If she knew about his dirty deeds, even better. But... how was I gonna say I'd hooked up with the guy? How would she believe that coincidence? She could easily think I was some jealous hysteric who signed up for lessons with her to snoop on her boyfriend.
That's when the idea hit. Crazy, but it hit.
I shifted on the toilet, spread my legs wide with pure hate, wanting him to see my whole damn uterus. Didn't care about being hairy like a raccoon—in fact, that might even help the plan. I grabbed my phone, aimed, and click. Photo taken.
I typed fast, without a second thought:
"Hey, I know you're busy, but can you please help me with a lady issue? Look at the pic and tell me how you think I should shave?"
I hit send. The trap was set.
I finished up in the bathroom, pulled on my panties, and went back to the room. Fixed my face, pretended to be calm. Then I headed to the kitchen, where Diana was messing with the wax that refused to melt.
"Diana... what about your boyfriend? You never talk about him..."
She looked up at me and the air got heavy. It wasn't just a tossed-off answer; it was like the memory had real weight. Her expression changed, her shoulders slumping a bit, and it seemed like thinking about him was almost physically annoying. Me, of course, I stood there watching every detail, eyes like a hawk, my bullshit detector beeping in my head.
The sound of the double boiler crackling in the pot was the only noise in the kitchen, mixed with the sweet, cloying smell of the melting wax. The white light from the bulb made her face look even paler right then.
"Uh, girl... I don't even wanna talk about it. That guy's worthless," she sighed deep, glancing sideways at the wax like she was dodging the topic. "I don't think we're even dating anymore, if you wanna know..."
"Hmm... interesting. Is he breaking up with her to be with me?" I thought, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.
"What do you mean, he ghosted?" I asked, trying to sound innocent but poking.
"Yeah, lately. Today, for example... he said he'd come over, but he never showed. Texted that he'd be by later," she shrugged, but the hurt leaked into her voice. "And when he does come... if I'm not in the mood to fuck, he makes some excuse and leaves."
I widened my eyes, not because it was a shock, but to see how much she'd spill.
"Men are all assholes, right? They respect their bros more than us..." I threw out automatically, but also poking to see if she'd bite and say more.
Diana laughed without any real humor, that short little chuckle that doesn't match her eyes. She went back to stirring the wax, which was finally melted, thick and shiny in the little pot. She tested the texture with the spatula and made a satisfied face.
"Let's do this?" she said, wiping her hands on the cloth and giving me that half-smile that mixed invitation and challenge.
My heart pounded harder. It wasn't just waxing. I was the one heading for torture, but she'd be the one spilling everything.
And we both headed to the room.