You shift in your sleep, your knee moving to rest against my thigh. I stiffen as you exhale and tuck your head beneath the crook of my neck. I tentatively inhale, your hair tickling my nose. I’m enveloped in your scent as I lie here, awake in your bed. Acoustic rock had lulled us to sleep, and later, had woken us up. You must’ve turned it off at some point.
I want to roll over, but I’m afraid to move. More than that, I’m afraid you’ll move away. I would prefer to remain close to you, but I’m still unsure if that’s where you want me to be. I’m also unsure if I would be crossing a boundary if I got closer.
You roll over, turning away from my neck. I roll over to face the wall. Your leg, however, finds mine again.
© 2016 Vic Romero
Of course, he had decided to take the highway. There was no traffic on the highway, so there was no stopping. He must’ve known that if there was an opportunity to jump out of the car, I would’ve taken it.
I slumped down further in the passenger seat, my arms crossed over my body protectively as his words sliced through my skin. He said we were having this conversation because he loves me, but I wasn’t feeling loved at all. It wasn’t even a conversation; it was a lecture. A lecture about me. About what’s wrong with me.
I ran into one of the friends that had said they were coming to my birthday bash but never showed up, at the dining hall. She apologized..apparently her pre-party nap caused her to sleep through the whole party. We ate breakfast together and chatted, it was really nice.
I had met her at a party about a month ago because she was friends with a girl who was friends with my friend. I liked her instantly and got her number, but I did not anticipate using it. I didn’t think I was going to see her again and when I’m drunk, I tend to collect the phone numbers of people I talk to for at least a minute, and I don’t usually contact them again.
But then I saw her again at another party and we talked the whole night. She’s super attractive and has a sexy voice so when she informed me that she just had a nasty breakup with her boyfriend and that she’s bi, I wanted to be the one to make her forget all about him.
I’ve included this video clip in the post I wrote when I turned nineteen…I hate repeating things but I felt that this was so appropriate for what I want to talk about: my lust life. AKA my love life but there has been no love so…I’m going to refer to it as my lust life.
Since school started in the fall, there have been four people I’ve toyed a little with.
I sit on the ground, oblivious to the craziness around me, solely admiring his dorky grin and the way he engages with the kids. He starts flexing, daring one of the kids to hang onto his arms to prove his strength. The kid stands up and grabs onto his forearms. Then the moment of truth: the kid’s feet leave the ground and he is still standing, tall and proud. The kid is amazed by his superhero- strength and I feel a little impressed myself.
As he sits back down in the circle, his warm eyes catch mine and his smile widens. My heart flutters.
The rest of the class passes by quickly. As I follow my kids out of the door, serving as the caboose of the line, I hang back a little to talk to him.
“So, are you going to come hang out with us next Tuesday?” I ask cooly.
“I can’t, it’s going to be my birthday,” he explains. I attempt not to look disappointed. “The following one I can try, though.”
I nod silently.
He gives me a heart-shattering grin. “I’ll text you,” he says.
“Sounds like a plan,” I say as he bows and I exit.
© 2015 Vic Romero
This is the final installment of the Love Bites series. Read the other parts below:
2: “Sweet(ish) F(ish)”
4: “Simply Peachy“
I apologize that the second installment of this series has been delayed a week! Nevertheless, here is the second publication. If you haven’t already, read the first one here!
The night was brisk but warm enough to walk without a coat. I crossed my arms over my chest as I walked down the vacant street with my friends, all of us expecting one last night to cut loose before the summer.
I heard the base boom from the basement as we approached the house. Two people that stood on the front porch nodded at us as we made our way up the driveway.
We walked down the stairs into the basement, the music and flashing lights washing over us.
“Let’s grab a drink,” one of my friends said. We all grabbed cups of beer from the bar and then shimmied over to the dance floor, my friend crooning the words to a Rihanna song into my ear. As we approached the center of the dance floor, I noticed the cute, Latina girl from my sexualities class. The one with the female symbol tattooed on her ring finger.
She was chatting with a couple people in the corner of the room, a half-empty beer in her hand. Her head fell back as she laughed, her mouth wide open and eyes closed. I confidently strode up to her, leaving my friends behind.
“Hey, Ronnie!” I called to her over the blaring music.
When she noticed me, her face lit up and she grinned. “Oh my god, heyyyy!” She pulled me into a one-armed hug, her hand lingering on my lower back when we pulled away. “How are you?”
I haven’t written stories in awhile, so I decided to start it up again with this short series about my love interests during my first year at school. The title of this series, Love Bites, is taken from one of my favorite NBC shows that unfortunately got cancelled. Similarly to the show, these stories are independent of each other, but they all have this common theme of love and lust, and they intertwine because of my presence in each story. I am publishing the Love Bites series Star Wars-style, which is my way of saying that I’m publishing the series backwards. So this story is the last story in the series, and the first story will be released last. A story will be released every Monday at 11am eastern, so stay tuned and enjoy!
I checked my watch. I checked my phone. I checked the clock in the lounge. All sources read the same time: 8:37pm, but she was nowhere to be found.
I sighed and looked out the window a fifth time and movement caught my eye.
Repost from 2012
I had never been so scared in my life. I watched my friend’s face contort as she read the rest of the letter that I had handed to her. She looked kinda pissed. But then again she always looked kinda pissed. I guess she looked extraordinarily pissed off as she read the letter-
“Wow,” she sighed, cutting my nervous thoughts off. She didn’t look at me right away, she just fiddled with the letter, her face twisted in thought. I looked straight ahead of me, watching the little kids draw on the blacktop in chalk. They were so cute and happy. I wish I were the same way.
“So everything is still up in the air? You don’t know what’s going to happen?”
She finally looked over at me, her expression cautionary. Evidently she didn’t know how to go about things or what to say. But neither did I.
I shrugged my shoulders, slumping a bit as I began to think of what this evil villain that I’ve created has dragged me into, thinking about how this villain, that was, but wasn’t me, has ruined my life. There was only one way to terminate this evil villain because I couldn’t be my own superhero, but those thoughts have landed me in this fucked up situation in the first place.
© 2015 Vic Romero
Her favorite types of bridges are the old, wooden ones that have vines curling along the railing and suspension cables, in the deep woods. She prefers it when they overlook a stream, so when she’a standing on it, she can gaze at the water crystals rushing over the rocks.
These types of bridges remind her of The Bridge to Terabithia. A magical, scenic bridge that takes you somewhere else…somewhere better. She wants to go somewhere better, but no matter how many bridges she crosses, they only leave her with reality. Every bridge she crosses that doesn’t take her far away from reality is burned down. Regardless of the beauty they uphold, and regardless of the history they have. She just doesn’t want to be followed, and she doesn’t want to go back.