34 | 𝑃𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑃𝑢𝑟𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑠

There were the five main things that I liked about Sullivan when I was ten and I wrote them all in my diary. Guaranteed, there were only twenty-five pages written about Sullivan, I was obsessed with him, but the commitment of writing more than twenty pages was tiring.

Hairrrrr (DUH)

EYES! I could get lost in.

Abalicious!!!

Good in math (can help me)

Good kisser (I just know it.)

P.S Bonus → make him your first kiss goal #1

What would little Azariah say now?

I sighed, driving a hand through my hair and observed Moose. His eyes were in two opposing directions and he had a napkin by his feet to prevent the drool of saliva landing on my blankets.

"Can you believe this?" I asked, pivoting the book to show him. "And would you believe that he had a failing math grade by his bedside. Not just one," I noted, sighing again.

I looked over to the pizza rolls my mom left, but I wasn't hungry. I lost my appetite and suddenly wished that I had gone home with Victor; he would've taken care of me drunk. I was so drunk. I wouldn't have done it--I hoped I wouldn't have done it drunk.

"Let's just be thankful," I told Moose, "that I didn't lose my virginity." I turned the pages and saw the five things that Kayla wrote about Victor, they were the same, 'hair, eyes, bad boy, abs, protective.'

He had all of those qualities, but I was beginning to fix things in my head, fix a lot of things. As I turned the page, I saw my eleven year old self add, 'I'm bad at commitment, but I'm back.' Then I read over the note that I hadn't touched since I was probably eleven.

Dear diary!

May 16, 2012

Sullivan will be my first... everything. He is perfect, and I know he would take care of me. We'd be at his house! Or a hotel--or prom night!! Oh my God, if he was to take me to prom!! How exciting! I can't wait. I would wear the prettiest dress and he would make the night beautiful. He'll kiss me and dance with me all night. We would be perfect, maybe he would take a drive with me and we'd blast music!! He would hug me in front of the moon. I know it. It's cliche, but it's perfect :) <3

I was stupid. I felt so pathetic. I threw my body backwards, slamming the notebook into my chest. I'd told Jay and he wanted to comfort me, but I brushed it off. I didn't want to see anyone. Instead, I was holding my closed diary to my ribs in the confinement of my arms as warm tears slipped from my tightly sealed eyelids. The suds of tears were compact in my eyes, and I wouldn't have opened them, I wasn't planning on it for a while, but a wet tongue licked up my cheek, and collected the salty taste.

I shifted over and saw Moose. His eyes weren't looking at me, but for the first time, I saw him walk in circles then lay his head on the crook of my neck.

"Aww, Moose." I patted his head and slid my fingers down his spine. "I love you. You're perfect."

After laying like that for a while, he maneuvered to the pizza rolls and I let him. Then I stood, situating the book down on my comforters and walking to my headboard in the way of the door. Flashbacks of when Sullivan came over one night after working on our presentation folded into memory. That evening, I let him up in my room for a split second without my mom knowing.

"That's a little stupid, don't you think?" he asked that day. He didn't like the obnoxious headboard facing the door.

So I will change it.

I situated my hands on the bedframe and pushed. My body contorted on an angle and I scrunched my nose. The bed slowly parted from its space and I moved it so that the headboard was blocking the window just like how it used to be.

Moose stared at me when I was done. The window was veiled by curtains, then the bed frame, then Moose's weirded out expression as drool fell onto the paper plate set by my pillow. I was heaving hard breaths, my hairline warm and my skin reddening. I rolled up the sleeves of my hoodie. Not Victor's, unfortunately, I was a girlfriend now, and that meant stuffing all of Victor's clothing in the back of my drawer.

I situated my hands on the outline of my waist as I studied what I'd done with the place. It was... different.

Without warning, there were a few consecutive knocks on my door and even Moose lifted his head. I straightened my posture, pivoting to hear another four knocks. "Come in?" I paused. "Mom, if you want to come in--"

The door opened and revealed Victor.

Shit.

"Vicky--" I cleared my throat awkwardly. "I mean, Victor, what are you doing here?" I was still out of breath and my words were more hollow with air.

He closed the door and forced a smile. "I don't know, you wanna tell me why I got a call from Jaydon Bach telling me that you were 'in your feels' and having 'second thoughts?'" He used air quotes.

I looked down to my carpet as Moose jogged to the end of the bed and was pawing to get off. I lowered him onto the floor and he sprinted to Victor's feet, clawing at his ankles to get attention. If he wasn't going to hug me and assure me he wasn't mad, I would've done the same as Moose, but I restrained.

Victor crouched down, talking quietly to Moose and saying how he missed him. I pursed my lips and faced the covered window. "I'm cleaning."

"I see that." He raised his head, then stood, fixing his leather jacket. "Are you changing it back?"

"You think I should?" I wondered, facing him.

He shrugged, walking over to the bed and studying it. "I don't know, whatever makes you happy, but you can't see the window. Why don't you put it horizontally."

"It doesn't fit, I would have to put it on the wall that my desk is, but then my desk will cover the window." I sighed, shaking my head and turning to him. "What do you want, Victor?"

"Well, I'm here to talk--" he started lowly.

"Yeah, I see that." I rolled my head around and despite my desperation to hug him, I tucked it to the back of my mind and said, "I don't want to talk to you. You've been ignoring my texts, calls, and I just--" I wrapped my hands around my chest. "I don't want to see you. Maybe you're right, we need a break--"

"Stop it." He approached me with leisure steps and somehow, he didn't mention the fact that I slapped him. "I'm sorry, Rhy. I mean it. I just... everything sort of fell apart that night and what we have was the only thing that wasn't falling apart so impulsively, I destroyed it to just add the cherry on top of my fucked up life sundae."

He gently clutched my shoulders to navigate me to face him, but what he didn't realize was that hearing him speak after everything that's happened, sort of, broke me.

"Rhy," he whispered. "Are you crying?" He pulled me into his chest and I relinquished everything. It all released me like a heavy breath of relief and I was sobbing into his chest. "Princess, I'll fix it okay."

"Fix what?" I mumbled into the now dampening black t-shirt that I made a tissue for my tears.

He rubbed circles on my back as he said, "I'll fix everything that I ruined, starting with..." He separated from me, and I wanted to crawl back into his arms, but he was fumbling with the pocket of his jeans before he pulled out a piece of aged paper. He unfolded it and before my eyes was a tiny article in the newspaper.

The bike and us driving down San Francisco. We were mid-scream, mid-catastrophe, and yet staring at it, I was the calmest I'd ever been.

"I thought you'd like it," he told me, smiling down at it in his hands. "I might've made a copy, but consider us famous?"

I threw myself up towards him and pressed my lips to his, tasting the familiar cold mint. My hands overlapped around his neck, but he stumbled out of my grasp. He looked torn, shocked, and I was regretting it quicker than before I could process.

"Azariah." He walked to my desk and positioned the newspaper down. "Rhy, you can't--" He shook his head. "Not when I know we were with two different people last night."

"You know?"

"Are you kidding me?" He laughed. "I see it in your face." He scrutinized me and raised an eyebrow. "So what? Did you have a good make out session--"

"I blew him." I cleared my throat. "I was drunk."

"No need to defend yourself." He uncomfortably stiffened his posture. "You okay? You don't seem okay--"

"No, I just..." I walked over to him. "I was drunk."

"Yeah, you bitch-slapped me--"

Damn, he had to bring it up.

"So uh... that was you?" I wondered with hope in my voice, but as he opened his mouth to speak and I interrupted, "I swear I'm not abusive! Like I'm not a violent person--"

He swiftly dove down and hurled me up over his shoulder. I released a yelp of surprise with pleas to be let down. "Victor! What are you doing?" I cried out, slapping his shoulder blade, but he threw me down to my mattress, climbing on top of me.

"Want my opinion?" he whispered hotly onto my mouth. I gulped and nodded. "I liked it better when you could see the window." He brushed the strands of hair on my face off to the sides. "I know you're a people-watcher, nosey," he commented, "I've seen you do it before."

"Your point?"

"I don't have one. On the bright side, my girl sucked her first--"

"No," I interrupted, covering my hands. "It was horrible, horrible, and more horrible!" I mumbled into my fingers. "I'm never doing it again, I mean--well, actually." I removed my hands. "Sullivan said--"

"Since when is Corbett referred to as Sullivan?" he questioned, raising a brow in suspicion before tilting his head and breathing on my neck hotly. If I wasn't having severe self-control, I would be squirming with approval.

Oh, God. What is happening to me?

"You know, for the first time..." Victor started, "I might just agree with you and say I liked your idea." His mouth was closing on my neck but he hesitated. "Or are you off-limits?"

Fuck.

"Get off me!" I frantically exclaimed, flapping my hands. Victor separated himself, standing aside from my bed. "I'm ah-- taken," I confirmed abruptly. "Literally."

"What?" He scrunched his nose. "You're dating this jackass?"

"Why does it sound like it's bothering you more that I'm dating him rather than me giving him a..." I hissed under my breath like it was sinful, cause it was. "A blow job."

"Because it is, Rhy. You're better than him." He scowled, throwing his hand up in a careless fashion as if to brush it off completely.

"Excuse you, you've been helping me get here. I just... I need other help." I lowered my head. "I know I'm contradicting myself, but can I give you a blow job for practice purposes because Sullivan said that I was terrible, he wants me to get better, but I--"

"He said all that?" Victor's voice was sharp and I swore that his fists curled in his jackets' pockets. "Besides, I thought you were cellibate."

"I am not. Just because I'm a virgin, it does not mean that I don't want to get rail--" I paused, my chest tight as he analyzed a cork-board hung on my wall. He scratched the back of his neck before something caught his interest.

"You were adorable."

He pointed to an eight year old picture of me on Halloween with Kayla. Then he studied a picture above it with my dad and when I was a baby but an 'x'  marked over his face in red marker. "That's not serial killer esque."

I stood from the bed and assured him, "don't worry. That was... right after he left and I was mad. But I miss him and this is the only picture I have." I wrapped my arms around his torso, and he froze at first, but then relaxed, laying his hands over my body.

"I am not helping you cheat."

"Is it cheating if he told me to do it?" I mumbled.

"What are you talking about?" He looked down on me, something darker in his eyes, and I was afraid if I spoke any more that he would dart out of the house to fight Sullivan.

"He might've said that I should've practiced with you more." I lowered my head into his chest. "So, yeah, I may be taking advantage of what he was saying but please, Victor. I'm certain I want to do this--"

"I thought you just told me to get off you?" he reminded, his tone mixed with persuasion and confusion, I struggled to decipher my own, but I nodded and found what I needed. Practice.

"Please, Victor."

"Are you begging?" He twisted in my hug and started to tickle my stomach, causing my head to fly back as a wave of giggles overcame me.

"Stop it!" I laughed hysterically, turtle-shelling as I fell back onto my bed with him hovering over. His hands crawled and scrunched the hoodie.

"Not until you tell me what you want?"

My face grew dark shades of feverish red, my expression melting on the stovetop of my face as I repressed the hurdles of chuckles in my stomach. His hands retired from tickling me as he situated them on either side of me. "Tell me what you want so I could reject it."

"Shut up!" I mused, rolling my eyes. "I want to give you a blow job for practice purposes. That's it. I want to be better, I want to be his expectation like he is mine!" I drew my face closer to Victor's. "Please, Vicky." I threw my hand out to the door. "You screw every girl you see, why not me? Am I seriously that horrible that not even you-"

He slammed his palm up against my shoulder and my body propelled onto the bed. "What did I say about that? I screw--" he said the word mockingly, "who I fucking want, is that clear?"

I nodded weakly against his weight. He was crushing me and I felt conformed to the mattress and the bulky comforter. Though I was the furthest thing from scared, especially with the assisting smirk on his lips.

"And secondly, don't you ever use Sullivan and I as reasoning for something that isn't true. I speak for myself, but I would fuck you right now, Princess, if I wanted."

"But you don't want to?" I murmured.

"Not exactly." His grip loosened. "I want that, but I need you as a person in my life. I can't just fuck and leave like I've been doing with every other girl, Rhy. You're not that to me, and practice is something that I can't promise won't turn into my emotional attraction to you." He paused, then chuckled. "Does that make sense?"

"Yes, but it's not always about you, now is it?"

Holy fuck! Who am I? I'm on fire! I'm proud... holy crap. I feel powerful. Like the badass bitch I wanted to be.

"Hmm... maybe you're right. I am selfish, cause I hate the fact that that smart mouth of yours was on Corbett," he mentioned, revealing a brief form of contemplation in his eyes.

"So what are you going to do about it?" I tested.

Oh my God, his grip is tightening. My heart--my everything! I'm so good at this! I'd like to think so. Damn, I should be the teacher now, Vicky.

"What I'd like to do about it?" he echoed, stepping back from me, then seating himself on the bed beside me as I lifted upright. "Exactly what you want."

I squealed, "wait, really?" My hands flew up by my chin as I stood. "Hold up. I need to--" I quickly grabbed Moose off the floor on the opposing side and scooted him out into the hallway then ran down the hallway and peaked out the window. My mom was doing groceries so she was gone. I ran back into my room to see him with raised eyebrows.

He stated, "you're killing the mood."

I grabbed a ponytail and threw my hair up. Ignoring his lip bite as I did the electric slide on my knees, getting rug burn in the process as I shifted between his legs. "Teach me. How do I do it? How do I approach it?"

"Definitely not what you just did," he teased, running his hand through my hair causing my head to tilt up towards him. "Relax and just, I don't know, do it." He paused and reminded, "I'm not an expert on how to give a blow job."

"Hmm." I hummed as he fixed his jeans so that it was just the thin material of his boxers in view. "Holy fuck, I--" Then I stopped myself realizing how I reacted.

"You're killing me." He laughed, dying of hysterics and making my face redden even more. "Princess. Up here." He gestured on his lap and subconsciously I shook my head, but my body was navigating and I straddled him. "Look me in the eyes," he instructed, his finger on my chin and making me face him.

He leaned in and gently cupped my face, purposefully and skillfully slipping his tongue into my mouth and enveloping me in the sweet warmth. It made my body contort to him, falling into each tender suck. I reciprocated the action, my hands falling to his chest as I started to move my body to feel something--what was I wanting to feel? Why was I feeling this? Why am I moving to--oh god.... Things are getting... hot.

His hands fixed on my waist so I wouldn't move, I couldn't move to feel the pressure of his leg on me. Slowly he pressed me off him and my knees struck the floor. He controlled the environment, and I felt okay.

"Practice," I reminded him.

"Always." He swallowed, his cheeks tinting pink as his chest raised and lowered with force. "Fuck, Princess-" he exhaled under his breath making something inside of me go weak.

I wanted him to say it again.

You're doing this for Sullivan.... I had to tell myself.

"Oh, you're..." I swallowed when he removed the thin fabric of his boxer.

"Don't kill the mood," he instructed me.

I whispered under my breath, nearing him, "bigger..." My heart was in my ears and growing louder, distantly I heard him laugh and curse again. My body went light as I felt every bit of anxiety crawl into my hands and mouth, I felt dry to the bone and vulnerable, fearful that he'd have a similar reaction as Sullivan.

"Victor, I don't know--"

"Rhy, at this point. I just want you on me, so stop talking and then we'll assess the situation, need be?" He stared at me with clouds in his eyes, his body tilting closer to me as he revealed the labored breathing he'd tried so hard to restrain from my ears. "Please, Princess."

Without a second passing, I started to approach him and practiced what I'd done with Sullivan, but unlike Sullivan, who forcefully slammed my head closer to him, Victor soothingly encircled his fingers in the tangles of my hair, making my eyes flutter close and the heat to embrace me with an invite.

He swore under his breath, swaying into me and curling the comforter beneath his fist. With his praise, I quickened my movements until he said, "slower. I want to enjoy it." I did as told, but his fingers drew into my mane again reassuringly.

He gruffly deadpanned, "look at me."

And I didn't look away.

x