Hallie Weibel
Liberation (7 of 11)

I just smiled and rolled over; I wasn’t offended, or even
surprised. Maybe if it had been a boyfriend, or someone I
might’ve had a future with, I would’ve cared more.  But, lying in
the dark, the thrill of doing the wrong thing, just this once, felt so right. 

I must’ve fallen back to sleep, because suddenly I was being awakened by rough, calloused hands gently stroking my back.  When I turned to face Jon, he was fully dressed and grinning, a neat polo shirt tucked into his khakis.  He said he was sorry he couldn’t stay, that it was hard to walk away from a sight like me in his bed, but he was on his way to meet his family at church.  Then, a door facing the loft opened.  His roommate walked out, and for the first time, I was compelled to pull the blankets up.  As he cast an accusatory glance at Jon, his girlfriend followed him out of the room.  When they headed downstairs, Jon explained that she was the jealous type, worried that there were always strange girls spending the night at this house.  We’d just proven her right.

He held my face in one hand as he kissed me goodbye, not even asking if I had a ride home.  It was likely he wasn’t used to these issues anymore—after you get your license you quickly forget how dependent you’d been on others before.  Or, maybe he didn’t want to deal with me.  Either way, I dressed quickly in yesterday’s clothes, scrambling to find my shirt and bra before any of the other doors opened.  Downstairs, three barely awake figures sat at the kitchen table.  Ally was distractedly chipping the tables’ blue Formica off with her fingernails.  In the car, she apologized for ditching me and drove me home in silence.
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