payback

It wasn’t the right thing to do, invite the kid to her place, after the party, but she did it, anyway. She’d never done anything like it. Never even come close. But she was tired of being alone, tired of him being gone, tired of feeling so angry, all the time. They drove in separate cars and when the kid finally arrived, she gave him the rules. No kissing. No hugging. No nudity. No exchanging phone numbers. And if he somehow got ahold of her cell number and tried to text her, she said she’d find him and slap him silly. She only wanted him because she needed him to complete her infidelity. When she was done with him, with it, that was that. He said he could deal with that, so she turned off the lights and backed into him and he, soon, moved into her. It all happened quickly, much quicker than she’d even imagined it would, though she was so overcome with anger that she only realized the act’s ice cold brevity much, much later. When they were done, she put herself back together and led him to the door, let him out, locked the door and sat on the couch, still in the darkness. It was 2:11 a.m., and she was alone, again. And it was at that very moment that she decided she wouldn’t cry. Not tonight. Not tomorrow night. Maybe not ever, again.