Page 33 of Toxic Wishes

I take in a deep sigh as I toss the phone on my bed.

“Too late,” I grab the pillow again and turn over on my belly, hoping that will help drown out the sex noises. But I know I have had enough when the headboard bangs against the wall next to me.

“Fuck it,” I say, turning on my back and throwing the sheets off me. I’m taking a shower, and if he’s not done by the time I’m out, I’m leaving. He is eating his breakfast in bed this morning anyway.

I put the shower on full blast, and made the water hot. Since the hospital, it’s been my reminder never to go back there. Although I haven’t starved myself or thrown up in almost three years, the triggers are still there, so I have to do things that remind me of how the disease is real and was a part of who I was, but it’s not who I am.

I toss my clothes from last night onto the floor and let the water hit me, avoiding my hair. Since my hair was so curly, I only washed it on certain days, and I had to wash it with the conditioner I bought from this fantastic hair specialist I found in California.

Even though the sounds of the water coming down on me drowned out most of the noises coming from Josh’s room, I still could hear them if I listened hard enough. My ex never satisfied me in bed, so a lot of times after sex, I would masturbate in the shower, and I’m grateful he never caught me in the act. I doubt he would have cared even if he did. He wasn’t the most sexual person since half of our sexual relationship was with me, myself and I.

I bring a hand to my clit as I start to make tiny circles with my middle finger. The warm water runs down on my neck, dripping down my back as I try and think of getting fucked on the bathroom counter by a stranger. I open my chest as I let the air come into my lungs and breathe hard as I apply more friction to my clit.

“Josh!”

Are you kidding me? She is screaming his name. God, she is putting on such a show. Are they still drunk? I try to erase the image of that girl on top of Josh riding his dick, but the moment is ruined. It’s too weird masturbating with the thought of Josh in my mind. Groaning, I turn off the hot water and grab a towel, drying myself off. I tie the towel around my torso and walk out to the bedroom to unzip my bag and find some clothes to wear.

It’s humid during the summers here, but since it’s the end of May, I have time to wear yoga pants and a T-shirt and not suffer tremendously. I unzip my bag and throw the cover to the opposite end on the floor when I hear Josh groan.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good.”

I throw a pair of socks in my bag and walk over to my phone.

“That’s it.” I quickly turn on my music, turning it up as loud as possible. Then, I walk over to my purse, where I keep my air buds, and promptly insert them in each ear. The Way You Make Me Feel starts playing, and I can’t hear a damn thing except the music playing in my ears.

It’s been a while since I danced. Sober anyway. College dancing out at the bars drunk always invigorated me, mainly because it was the only time I let my guard down and sang along with the lyrics, pretending I was on stage. Right now, I am Beyonce. I jogged over to the fan in the corner and turned it on, pulling my hair tie out and letting my curly locks fall to my back. I started slowly, swaying back and forth until my hips started to join in on the fun, but by the time the chorus came around a second time, I was full-on shaking my goods all over, in nothing but a towel. Jared was an ass man, and although I didn’t lack in the boob department, my ass was what he loved about me. It was one of the only blessings my mom gave me of hers. She had a perky, round butt. No matter what she did, it was always there. Same with me. The only time I didn’t have one was when I was anorexic, and now that I have had sex, I never wanted no-ass again.

No matter what. Guys loved to hold on to something when you were fucking them on top of or from behind. And a man getting turned on by me, turned me on that much more. I drop it down low and twerk my jiggly naked ass like nobody's business. When the song ended, an odd euphoric feeling came over me, and I couldn’t stop smiling.

Maybe being back in Missouri would be good for me after all. And maybe naked dancing is just what I needed. So when Whitney Houston’s song I Want to Dance with Somebody comes on, I not only shake my ass, I sing along to the lyrics hearing how perfect I sound along with her voice.

I drop it down low, bend over and shake my ass before turning around and seeing a man barge in the door. I jumped and let out a blood-curdling scream. My self-defense mechanism kicked in, and I picked up the nearest thing I could get my hands on and threw it across the room, which happened to be my phone. The phone hits the intruder's head, and he groans in anguish.

“What the fuck are you doing in here,” I say.

Rubbing the spot where I hit him, he sneers. “I should be asking you that.”

My eyes go wide as my mouth forms an O shape. Oh shit, this must be Josh’s brother.

“Oh shit.” I’m so sorry. Josh said you wouldn’t be here this weekend, so we didn’t expect anyone.”

He lets his hand fall to his side. “Well, given this is my house, it would have been nice to know that I would be expecting company.”

“He told me he-” of course he lied. Dam you, Josh.

“Why did you barge into my room then?” I ask as if he was intruding on my place.

“You mean my room?” He narrowed his eyes on me.

I wrap my arms around my waist, feeling a chill in the room as he glares at me. “I thought he left the radio on in here, and I was coming to turn it off. I'd pound on his door and have him do it himself but it sounds like he’s getting pounded in the other room.”

For some reason, his comment made my ribs tighten, weakening my knees and suddenly all I wanted to do was run.

“I was just getting dressed then leaving, so I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

He stares at me before turning around and slamming the door shut.

Jerk.

---