While We Were Apart: Senior Year 3

Chapter 4

“Ah! Ah! Fuck me! Ah!”

The cries drew me deeper into the house. Everyone I passed gave me a pitying look, whispering to one another and shaking their heads sadly. I floated past them, down the hall with all the doors.

The man’s grunts were now audible through the door at the end of the hall, the unmistakable sounds of sex assaulting my ears. My gut churned. My skin crawled. “Ah! Ah!”

“Harder! Fuck me… harder!” Morgan was moaning for it. Begging for it. “Fuck it into me!”

“That’s my girl,” Jeremy said. And I was inside the room all of a sudden. Morgan was on her back, naked, as Jeremy plowed in bare snatch. He looked at me, not surprised at all to see me there. “She loves it rough, man. Fuckin’ can’t get enough.”

“Told you they were in Jeremy’s bedroom,” someone said beside me—Beth, from the party, the lesbian dating Reagan. Tall and willowy, she squeezed my arm and added, “Reagan tells me they spent most of their time last year in Jeremy’s bedroom. Didn’t they, Reggie?”

Beth looked down. I followed my eyes, and there was her girlfriend, the cute blonde on her knees, still wearing her glasses, sucking my cock. It felt incredible, wet and firm, her tongue slithering back and forth. I pushed my hips forward, and Reagan choked, but didn’t stop blowing me.

“Watch them,” Beth prompted. “Watch how they love to fuck.”

I glanced back at the bed. Morgan was riding Jeremy now, facing me, her naked breasts bouncing. She had one hand in her hair, the other dancing between her legs, fingering her bare shaven twat.

“She did that for me,” Jeremy taunted. “She shaved for me.”

“Oh, fuck,” I groaned.

Beth leaned close. “She did so many things for him,” she whispered. “But hey, you were on a break, right?”

“Oh—AH!” And I was coming, hips forward, cock slamming into the back of—

—Morgan’s throat.

The dream melted away. It was early morning. Morgan had cast the sheets away so I could see her waking me with a morning blowjob. The dream still haunted me, but I was already forgetting the details. Only the sensations of extreme jealousy and extreme arousal remained as I spewed into Morgan’s mouth.

She swallowed, her eyes on me as she drank down my come. Pulling up, she beamed at me. “Happy birthday.” Her voice was so sexy, husky and raw from the blowjob. “You must have been having some dream. I swear, you were moaning before I even went down there.”

“I… don’t remember.” Hey, you were on a break, right? Who’d said it? Had that been part of the dream? 

“Think you can get it back up?” Morgan crawled over me. She was naked, her skin warm from being in bed all night. She was an inspiration, her runner’s body taut and smooth, pale, unblemished.

“I think I can manage,” I said, never going fully soft.

She slid my cock along her sex, which she continued to keep bare. She was wet, and it took only a few humps and I was once again thick and ready for her.

With a shift, she sank over me with a sigh. “Mmm, that’s nice…”

Since the start of school, over the last month, we just fell back into our relationship without really officially declaring it, picking up where we left off before she studied abroad. I tried to play it cool, to pretend that it was all the same. But it wasn’t.

Thing was, Morgan had never felt out of my league before. She was always attractive, but acted like she didn’t realize it. She was a jeans-and-t-shirt girl, both before and after—the kind of girl who got away with putting on as little makeup as she could. Morgan put study first, play second.

She still did all that. Other than the one party at Jeremy’s, she spent her Saturday nights in the library. When we hung out, it was with me and Dan and a few of our other friends. But now that she was back, there was something about her that was… intimidating. 

Like she was cooler than me now. Like maybe she was settling for me. We’d go out with friends and she was more at ease. When I saw her talking to another guy, she didn’t seem like the shy girl I’d sat down next to in History of Jazz.

And definitely like when she rode my cock, her body rippling over me, more into the sex than I swear she had been before.

My insecurity grew. Our relationship was doomed, I told myself. That’s probably why, for my 21st birthday gathering in early October, I invited—

“Molly? Why did you invite her, man?” We were in the backroom of Murphy’s Pub, where Dan knew the manager. The gathering was small, unlike Jeremy’s big house party earlier in the year, but also more my speed, which also made Molly’s appearance even more flagrant.

Which is why Dan was looking at me like I’d gotten my face tattooed. “Are you a fucking idiot?”

Molly was one of the girls that I’d hooked up with, on and off, when Morgan was traipsing around the UK with Jeremy. Molly was my main hookup, if I was honest, aside from a few random drunken one-offs that I barely remembered. She was hot, fun, slightly crazy, and would have made a great girlfriend. Yet the more I was with her, the more I pined for Morgan, until I finally had to break it off with her.

That was about half a year ago. Half a year of being good and resisting temptation. Of waiting for Morgan to return. And now, because I’m a dumbass and couldn’t get Jeremy’s party out of my head, I’d invited Molly to my own, and she’d come, looking just as hot in her dress and all that red hair.

I shrugged. “Ran into her at The Caf. She remembered that my birthday was coming up…”

“And you thought that remembering your birthday was such a kindness that you fucking invited her here?”

“Sure, why not?”

Dan squinted at me. “If you don’t know why not, then you really are a fucking idiot.” He glanced at Molly again. “At least she brought a hot friend.”

He wasn’t wrong. I didn’t know the blonde at Molly’s side, but she was cute going on sexy—especially in the short skirt and tight blouse she wore. In fact, both of them were dressed for a night out, threads designed to show skin and entice—a far cry than the casual clothes most of us wore. 

Dan wasn’t going to let it go so easily, though. “But dude, this is a bad idea…”

“It’s fine.” I glanced nervously at Morgan, chatting away with a few of our friends. “It’ll all be fine.”

***

“I’d like to propose a toast.” The small gathering turned to Molly, who was holding a shot glass up. We were well into the night, and things were starting to get sloppy. “To the birthday boy, such a good guy—kind and sweet and thoughtful, not to mention pretty fucking hot—”

“Okay, Molly,” Dan put an arm around her. “I think you’ve had too—”

“Don’t touch me!” Molly shrieked. She raised the shot glass, its contents sloshing out over her wrist. “Nate, I just want to say, I hope she gave you as good a birthday BJ as I did—“

“Okay, show’s over,” Dan said, now forcefully removing Molly. The blonde who’d come in with her, Denise, helped usher her out as the room tried to move on.

“Well, that was awkward,” I said. Some laughed nervously. I didn’t want to look at Morgan, but like someone passing a car wreck on the highway, I couldn't stop myself.

When I saw her standing there, her arms crossed beneath her breasts and her eyes flat, forcing a smile, I realized that the car wreck was me.

I went to her, and everyone around us seemed to give us distance. Before I could come up with something to say, Morgan spoke first. “So that was Molly.”

“Uh… yeah.” Morgan had heard of Molly?

“She’s pretty.”

“Pretty drunk.” My joke fell flat. 

“Why did you invite her?”

Of course there was no good answer to that question. Why did she invite me to Jeremy’s party just after coming home? Why didn’t we just hash this whole thing out? 

“I don’t know,” I said lamely. “I didn’t think it would be like that.”

“Nathan, you…” Morgan didn’t look sad, exactly. It was worse. She looked disappointed. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

She was right, of course. Not that I said that. I was too busy sizing up my foot for my mouth. “Jeremy didn’t seem to have a problem inviting you to his party.”

“What?” Morgan blinked. “What are you implying?”

“Look, I’m not upset. Just seems a little hypocritical is all.”

“Oh, right, because you invited a girl you fucked last year to a small gathering of friends for your birthday party, just like Jeremy invited a girl he fucked to a giant house party?”

All I heard in that statement, mostly, was ‘girl he fucked.’

“So you did fuck him?”

“Ugh! You don’t even understand why I’m upset, do you?”

“You’re jealous?”

“You…” She took a deep breath. “Forget it. You’re drunk, and I’m leaving. Happy birthday, Nathan. Call me when you’ve sobered up.”

I watched her walk out of my life, too drunk to see the tears shimmering in her eyes, too riled up to know that I needed to follow. Dan wasn’t there, either, to set me straight, still off somewhere dealing with my other mess. So instead, I turned back to my friends. “Who wants to buy me another drink?”

***

Girl he fucked… giant house party… check Jeremy’s room…

I was still buzzing when I woke the next morning, alone in my own bed, with almost no recollection of the night before. Other than that I’d had way too much to drink, and now I had to—-

Vomit! I raced to the toilet and hurled into the basin just in time, bile pouring out my mouth and nostrils. I felt better after that, but still had a splitting headache.

“I will never drink again,” I croaked to myself, forcing myself to drink a glass of water. 

It was around this point that some of last night returned. I’d had an argument with Morgan over… Molly? Because I’d invited Molly to my party. Fuck me.

I checked my phone, disappointed that Morgan hadn’t texted. I put on some clothes, brushed my teeth, and headed out to her place. This was an apology that needed to be done in person.

On the way there, of course, in the cool morning air, another possibility occurred to me—that I’d walk in on Morgan in bed with someone else. It was the gym paranoia all over again—or that feeling of walking down the hall in Jeremy’s house. I knew it was silly, but the closer I got to her place, the more convinced that I became.

I didn’t barge in. I couldn’t. I didn’t have a key. But I did knock hard, like I was serving a warrant, and when no one immediately answered, I knocked even harder.

“Okay, okay, fuck!” someone shouted from the other side.

Morgan’s roommate, Nitika, answered, looking grumpy and disheveled from sleep. “What the fuck, man, you know what time it is?”

“10:30? Doesn’t seem that early.”

Nitika rolled her eyes. “You’re looking for Morgan. She’s not here.”

My gut bottomed out. “What?”

Nitika shrugged.

“Did she come home last night?”

“Uh oh. Trouble in paradise.”

“Just tell me, Nitika. Did she even come back here?”

Nitika’s smile was malice. She didn’t like me all that much. I’d later learn that she was casual friends with Molly, but at the time I had no clue. “You know? I can’t remember. You should ask her?”

And with that, she shut the door in my face.

I wandered outside, untethered—like a piece of trash blown loose from an overstuffed garbage can. I definitely felt like trash. 

I’d felt like this one other time—last Valentine’s Day. I was out with Molly, and she was doing everything right, and it should have been great. But it wasn’t, because she wasn’t Morgan, and maybe I’d never be with Morgan again. I had the absurd urge to buy a plane ticket and fly to her, only to realize that it was also Valentine’s Day over there, and she was probably with some stud, and I’d just make a fool of myself. Also, I couldn’t come close to affording a plane ticket to England.

Wouldn’t take a big purchase now, though, and if she’d gone somewhere, I had a pretty good idea where.

***

“Well, this is a surprise.” Jeremy opened the door as wide as his wide smile. “Nathan, to what do I owe the honor?”

He had a polo shirt stretched tight over his broad chest and a pair of jeans designed to look worn, but probably cost more than my whole wardrobe.

“I’m looking for Morgan,” I said.

“And you think she’s here?” I couldn’t tell if that was a smirk, or just the way his face always looked.

“Let’s cut the bullshit,” I said. Adrenaline surged. It was all I could do to keep my voice even. “I know all about you two.”

“Do you now? What is it, exactly, that you know?”

I wanted to punch him. I didn’t. I’m not a total barbarian. “Look, it’s fine. Whatever. We were apart last year. But not anymore. She’s mine, and you need to stay away from her.”

“This is my house,” he said, spreading his hands wide, palms towards me. “Sounds like this is a conversation you need to have with her?”

“So she is here.” I advanced.

“No,” he said, and there was command in his voice. He shook his head, forcing a smile all over again. “Man, you’ve got this all wrong, Nathan.” The disdain for me as he said my name was as clear as spit in the eye. “I have no clue what she’s doing with you. A girl like that could have anyone. Believe me, watching her this last year, I know.” He let that revelation sink in like a knife in the back. “Nothing I’ve seen here makes me think that you’re the one.”

“You can go to hell,” I spat, knowing how childish it sounded.

Jeremy just chuckled. His focus shifted past me, over my shoulder. “Told you he was here,” he said—not to me. I knew who, and my body sank.

“Nathan, why did you come here?” Morgan asked, although I could tell that she knew the reason.

“Just… looking for you.” I turned, even though I didn’t want to. There she stood, beautiful and tired and disappointed all at once.

“I’m here. Jeremy texted.”

“Ah.” Fuck, this wasn’t good.

“Come on, let’s go for a walk. I think we need to talk through some things,” she said. 

It was all so reasonable. This was the best that I could have hoped for, considering the reasons, and yet all I could think about was how humiliating that this was happening in front of Jeremy. I didn’t need to look at him to see his smug smile.

I raked my fingers through my hair. “You know what?” My voice shook. “Forget it. He’s right.” The battery acid taste was back. I felt like vomiting all over again. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Nathan—” she started.

But I was on a roll, determined to destroy everything I could. “I’ll see you around, Morgan.”

And then I did the dumbest thing in my life. I walked away.

See you Friday!