"Fuck, I'm a bitch," I said, bringing my arms up and slamming them down. "He didn't deserve that; I should apologize tomorrow." I looked up at the mirror that was in front of my bed. Then I got up, shed a single tear, and ambled to the door. I took in a deep breath and grasped the door knob. Before I could turn it, though, it went to the left and the door opened. Once again, I saw David standing there; he was in the same clothes he'd worn earlier. "You again?" He just eyeballed my eyes for a few seconds, prior to leaning in and kissing me. He kissed me for about five seconds, before I pushed him off me. "What the fuck was that? Why did you kiss me?" "I love you, Naomi," he stated, looking into my brown eyes. "I don't care! Go back to your room and leave me alone," I told him, just before I closed the door. I lay back down on my bed and shed a couple more tears. "What the hell was that?" I wondered, glaring at the ceiling. "He confessed that in the middle of the night, and didn't even. I'd given a lot of girls back rubs, as a matter of fact in my little group I was thought of as the guy to go to for a rub. But with every one of those I'd had at least a bit of an ulterior motive—if the girl liked the back rub, perhaps a more intimate rub was possible, and in a few cases that had proved true. But when I thought back to Friday night I realized that when Beth had been stretched out on the couch I had been thinking only about making her feel good, I'll admit my body had reacted like a horny teenager, but mentally I was thinking only about her, not my chances of taking it any farther. What did that mean? Had I been attracted to her as a person from the start? Was it that I felt I had no chance of getting anyplace that eliminated that whole line of reasoning? Was I in love with her? This was obviously going to take more thought than I was capable of in my half-asleep, drowsy Sunday morning state.We exchanged morning-breath kisses—with some grabs here and there—then got.
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