I am so freaked out by what I did. Who I’m becoming. Who I want to become. Because that is the thing that freaks me out the most. Not that I just gave two boys hand jobs on our couch. It’s that I want to do more. I want to lose myself in the feelings of sexiness and power I felt. I want to touch them both everywhere. I want them inside my body. Not one. Not the other. Both.

I want them both. If things went further, though, how would they look at me in the morning? I’m already awkward most of the time, I can’t imagine how I could manage acting normal after doing the things I want to do with them. This really should stop now. Before we go too far.

Chapter Nine

Friday afternoon, I’m surprised to find both my roommates sitting on the couch waiting for me when I get home. Fletch looks pained and almost awkward, but Shane is just tossing his baseball into the air and catching it, over and over. Like he’s totally focused. Except I know Shane, and Shane is not a hyper-focused kind of person.

This is an intervention.

“Hey, guys.” I’m hoping to pass through the room to my bedroom quickly.

“Sit down, little bit.”

I’ve been very carefully avoiding hanging out in the living room since Night of the Epic Hand jobs. “Gosh, sorry. I have to go do...something.”

“We need to talk,” Fletch says, using his Fletcher McSerious tone. It’s impossible to ignore him or do anything other than what he says. Lately, he’s had this sort of hypnotic masculinity that makes me nearly go into a trance. Makes me want to please him. Not just sex stuff. I just...want him to be happy with me. It’s hard to explain.

I sit in the chair, not the empty spot between them on the couch. That spot is reserved for my inner-slut, and she is not invited to this discussion. In fact, I’ve locked her in a room in the basement of my mind. Padlocked her in there, even. She is not allowed to come out to play until I figure some more things out. Like who am I even?

“Did we push you too far the other night? Did we make you...force you to do something you didn’t want to do? Because you have to know we would never hurt you on purpose. We care about you like a...well,” Fletch’s face flushes red, “not like a sister, obviously. But you know what I mean.”