Daddy, I want more

Because of its extreme heat and humidity, Havai was not a place for the faint of heart. When the beer in the cooler ran out at David's pool party, I stepped up to offer to go grab another case from the garage fridge. It was necessary for me to be away from everyone for a while, so I did it.

For almost five years, since the summer before our junior year of high school, David Peterson and I had been together. Since then, we've been inseparable. Basically anything that goes on at school. Trips with the family. It was our first year in university. In fact, we were named "Most Likely to Marry Their High School Sweetheart" by our fellow seniors.

He had been so special to me that I had handed up my virginity to him.

But . . .

Indeed, David had evolved. I couldn't pinpoint when he stopped being the kind, considerate man he used to be, or what changed him. We were starting to feel too familiar with one another. When he saw that I wasn't "trying" or was behaving like a "bitch," he wouldn't hesitate to tell me.

Despite the fact that it was June and we had both returned from Havai Central University, I saw my lover less during the summer than I did during the academic year. The truth is that we all had jobs. To the contrary, he made it quite plain today that he would rather spend time with our old high school pals than with me.

God. We used to be the best of friends, but now we hardly spoke at all. There were no meaningful exchanges or lighthearted ribbing. David would only contact me when he was in the mood to have some sexual fun. I had evolved into it in his eyes

As I made my way through the house and out to the garage at the other end, I listened to music on my phone, which I had tucked into the top of my swimsuit. Without turning on the overhead light, I pushed open the door and down the two steps into the vast garage. The cement floor was chilly on my bare feet, but the music was great, and there was enough darkness that I could try to forget about my irritation with David. Perhaps all I needed was to snap out of my funk.

I ignored the dirty floor and the chill of my wet swimsuit as I danced blindly to the tune coming from between my breasts. I gave up trying to care and it helped... kind of. To the beat, I swung my hips. To hide the stupid grin that was spreading on my lips, I placed my hands in the air and waved them about.

It was liberating to let go and dance like a lunatic with the kitchen door wide open as the sole source of illumination. I sung along, having memorized every word, and really let go during the chorus.