Page 26 of My Favorite Girl

Whenever I audition, the nerves take control of me. My fingers don’t move with fluency. Sometimes, I forget which notes to play. Worst case scenario, I have a panic attack. It’s happened twice before.

It can’t happen again for my Juilliard audition.

Dan has been so amazing, talking me through my fears and helping me practice the breathing technique that worked so well the night of the beach party. The panic attacks have been happening far less frequently, and thanks to Dan, I’m now able to self-regulate my emotions without medication when I feel an oncoming episode. I love how supportive Dan is and how he always believes in me.

I’m keen for a break from the piano and to watch a movie. In Dan’s language, the movie invitation is code forlet me hold you while we watch a movie. This is what we do each time we watch anything, just the two of us, and I never turn down an opportunity to be in Dan’s arms.

He always holds me the way I imagine a boyfriend would, and I love it. I get butterflies in my tummy when I sit in his lap and his stubble brushes against my cheek. The scent of his cologne is hypnotic. Sometimes I’ll even feel his erection on my back. I get wet from feeling his dick and knowing he’s turned on.

Everything feels so adult and intense between us, even though we’ve never done anything sexual with each other. At least, that’s how Dan makesmefeel. For him, we’re probably the definition of innocence, considering the amount of sex he’s had.

“I thought you were out playing poker with Felix?”

“I finished early.” He shrugs, sounding a little off. “I’m going to take a shower. So, you keen for a movie?”

Only now, when Dan reaches for the bathroom door handle, do I realize what’s different about him. Dan’s hair is ruffled. There’s something red on his white collar. Lipstick.

My chest twists with jealousy. He wasn’t out with Felix at all tonight. He was with a girl.

“Um… No movie tonight. I’m too busy to take a break.” I keep the jealousy out of my voice because it has no place being there.

“Damn. Okay, the beautiful maestro is hard at work. I’ll let you get back to it.”

The door shuts and I collapse on my bed, screaming into a pillow. I’m not angry at Dan for having sex, if that’s what he was doing earlier tonight. Our situation is complicated and we’re in no way committed to each other. After his seventeenth birthday, I’m the one who insisted he continue sleeping around.

Since then, I’ve grown more attached to him and it’s wrong. Everything about us is wrong, from the way he calls me his queen, to how I sleep in his bed and undress in front of him. I shouldn’t do any of those things. But the way Dan makes me feel, I can’t stop myself. At least we’re not having sex; that’s how I justify my behavior.

If I had the ability to talk to other guys, I’d be trying to date them to expel this sexual frustration Dan fills me with. But the depressing truth is I’m eighteen, a virgin, and awkward as hell around the opposite sex.

I hear the shower turn on, and sigh, removing the pillow from my face. Dan is cleaning up, probably so I don’t smell the scent of sex on him. My mind wanders to thoughts of what Dan did tonight with that girl, whoever she is.

What does he think about while having sex? That the girl is beautiful? That he can’t get enough of her body? That he needs her and that the act of making her come is all it takes to make him finish? Does he use protection, or does he get off on coming inside her without a condom?

I can’t take the thoughts for a second longer. They’re pure agony. I have never hated something more in my life. I want him to know what he does to me. How fucked up I am overneeding him but never having him. I want him to be so goddamn obsessed with me that he never looks at another girl again. It’s just me he sees and fucks and comes inside of. My God, I want him to come inside of me so fucking badly. I want it dripping down my legs.

My hand slips beneath my panties, too overcome by the constant ache between my thighs to care that what I’m about to do is wrong. I let my mind wander to those nights we share a bed, with his hand fastened around my waist.

Giving in to the fantasy, I imagine that his hand moves lower. I think about Dan’s hot breath on my neck, his voice whispering dirty things into my ear, telling me how much he wants me and how he’d give anything to be inside me.

The bathroom door opens and I pull my hand out of my panties at lightning speed, hot with embarrassment when I see Dan standing in the doorway. He’s wearing black track pants with no shirt, his brown hair is damp, and he’s busy hanging his towel on the towel rack.

A rush of relief fills me when I realize he didn’t catch me touching myself.

Dan finishes with the towel and looks at me. “You sure I can’t tempt you with a movie—” His gaze narrows on me, curious and studying, finding me on my back, propped on my elbows with my nightgown hiked up.

I’m wrong. He does know. Dan stares at my cheeks which are flushed with the evidence of what I’ve just been doing. His gaze darkens, his jawline stiffening, and I think I’m about to die with humiliation.

“Don’t stop.” The words leave his mouth, low and gravelly, and are the last thing I expected to hear.

“I wasn’t…” I can’t finish the sentence. I’m pinned beneath his gaze, unable to move.

He swallows hard, the muscles in his throat straining. “Giving yourself an orgasm?”

I’m so hot that I can’t speak. My heart is pounding like I’ve never experienced before, pumping adrenaline all through my body. Slowly, I shake my head to answer Dan’s question, my gaze never leaving his. “I don’t know how. I’ve never…”

“You’ve never had an orgasm?”

“I’ve tried before. I can never get myself there unless I think of…” I won’t allow myself to speak his name out loud. Though, I get the sense he can tell where my answer was heading. “It feels… wrong.”

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