Yours to Own and Love

I scanned the crowded room, my gaze lingering on the sea of unfamiliar and phony faces. My father who had dragged me down to this gala was nowhere to be found. Probably schmoozing with the other guests, I thought, rolling my eyes in annoyance.

I took a sip of my wine, the champagne bubbles tickling my nose. I hated these events, hated the forced smiles and the fake laughter. And to make matters worse, I was stuck in a tight dress, my feet screaming in protest from the high heels. Gosh, I just wanted to have a nice time in Hawaii.

As I stood there, feeling like a fish out of water, my ex-boyfriend's words echoed in my mind. "You're such a coward, Stella." I groaned, taking another sip of my drink. Why did he have to say that? Well if I'm a coward then he's a bastard.

Scott, my very recently ex-boyfriend, was the kind of guy you look back at and sigh in relief that it ended, even if the ending was sucky. His charming smile and captivating charm was all he had. He's the kind of boy who made you feel like you were the only person in the room.

And nice and charming is what I wanted. Or so I thought. Except, it was all an act. A carefully crafted facade designed to lure me in. I remember the way my heart skipped a beat when he smiled at me, the way my friends envied our relationship. But behind closed doors, the real Scott emerged.

The problem was sex. Specifically, that Scott wanted it, immediately, and always, and I wanted to wait. No, it’s not like I’ve ever been that girl who wants to wait until marriage or something like that. But I’d gone through all of high school without doing more than freaking making out with a guy.

Scott was nice enough, but I wasn’t about to hop into bed for the first time three weeks after meeting the guy. Apparently, that was reason enough for Scott to go out and sleep with half the girls on my dorm floor, before telling me it was over.

He'd told me, “Guys have needs, Stella. I mean, if you weren’t going to, of course, I was gonna find it someplace else.” The audacity of that bitch. He even had the nerve to ask me if I still “wanted to bone.” I politely told him to go fuck his mother. But the thing is, it hasn’t just been Scott.

Before him, it was Romeo, from high school. We dated for a few months my senior year. I wasn’t ready to do anything more than kissing. Romeo, however, was ready, which is why he found time to sleep with Madison Hathway in the bathroom at a party while I was sick with fever at home.

And of course, I got the same “Scott” explanation: that I was a “prude” and that “of course” he’d gotten what he “needed” elsewhere.