All Chapters of Foster: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The book is disinteresting, and that's the extent of what I think about it. The title isn't even notable, nor is the author. I do wonder if the writer has any extraordinary books to offer, perhaps I just selected the wrong one at the store. It'll teach me not to shop by cover, more importantly, not to shop by dramatised blurb built to draw in sales with no actual relationship to the novel itself. Sasha is out with James. That's the extent of what she told me as a passing alert when she ducked through the front door. I could have guessed a

That's how he does it. All in hypotheticals. It's firm yet indirect enough not to offend -- still, it kind of turns me on but angers me at the same time. I'm twenty-four, I can do whatever the hell I want to do. He can't stop me. Maybe next time, I'll throw up in the gutter and curl up there. I'll let a stranger kidnap me... he'll be forced to mop up my vomit from the basement floor and clean everything up, otherwise, he's risking leaving behind DNA evidence of me being there. The captor won't complain -- like it seems Damon is right now.

"Since when do you lock your window?" James is the least graceful I have ever seen him as he squeezes through the small gap I've allowed him. He's bitter, I could imagine — he's insulted I've denied him the freedom of sliding open my window and climbing through in the middle of the night as he pleases. It's not a human right, however, so he can stick his complaints where shit sticks between the cheeks and he can suck my hard-on. I'm sure that would please him far more than finding I locked my window for once, like any sane person fearing a break-in. I won't tell him I got creeped out watching a horror movie and locked the window so little monsters couldn't molest me in my sleep. He doesn't need to know that.

I cross my own arms. I'm now mirroring her. "Not at all," I wait for her to say 'then just kiss me' or something to the effect. Maybe she truly does have to be drunk to have the need to kiss me — it'd be a far better fate than having to endure the pain of constantly needing some form of deeper sexual contact from either one of us. It's all I'm consumed by, each and every waking moment of the day. "So go on, and go out, and get drunk so I can make sure you don't get taken home by some stranger, and hold your hair back so you don't get vomit all through it, and kiss you when you won't remember it," 

It takes a while for me to realise I'm awake. By then, I'm not entirely sure how long I've been conscious... all I do know is that I'm alone when I do finally shift in place; Damon must have already left. It hurts my feelings, sure, but what can I do? Can I call him and yell at him over the phone because now I'm naked and alone in his bed? Can I give him the silent treatment yet again? Should I just wait for tonight and have a passive-aggressive conversation to express my disappointment?