Beautiful Broken RulesBy: Kimberly Lauren
One thing I know for sure and have come to terms with–I’m the school slut. I hate that word; but sometimes it is what it is, or in my situation, I am what I am. I like guys, all kinds of them and lots of them. College has been the perfect setting for being able to meet so many. Since I have no desire for a relationship whatsoever, I sleep around. Sleeping with one guy consistently is too permanent. It builds a façade that I want more than I actually do. I definitely don’t want one guy sticking around me on any kind of consistent basis. I would be a terrible girlfriend anyway.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m not one of those girls that just go around sleeping with any guy, with no care to anyone’s feelings. I have three rules: never sleep with someone that a friend has feelings for, never sleep with someone who is in a known relationship (when this isn't disclosed to me, it is not my fault), and finally, never sleep with someone more than three times. I had to add that last one after Devon Ryan. Man, it was a shame too, because he was fantastic in bed and we got along really well. When we were dangerously close to relationship territory after four nights together, I added rule number three. He wasn’t happy about it, but I wasn’t a girlfriend to anyone. This way, if I come across someone that knows what he is doing, I can stick around long enough to enjoy, but not long enough for them to become attached.
These rules have helped me avoid becoming one of the most hated girls on campus. I don’t sleep with anyone’s boyfriends and I try my hardest not to sleep with any of my friend’s ex-boyfriends as well, but sometimes that’s unavoidable. Nevertheless, I can’t please them all. I’m very open about who I am, I don’t pretend not to sleep with guys and I don’t deny when I have done just that.
I’ve accepted who I am. The girl who will never become serious about anyone, who will enjoy life, have fun with guys along the way and never get her heart broken. The one thing other girls count on me for is to never lock one guy down, because they know that sooner or later that I’ll move on to the next one.
That’s why I hope Sophia will understand when she finds out that I slept with Micah last night that I don’t plan on actually keeping him. I had no idea that she’s been hoping he will ask her out until Quinn texted me this morning with a code red.
Quinn: FYI Soph was gushing this morning about Micah at the gym.
Well, shit. This was news to me. Last I heard, she was interested in Mason Lee. This is why rule number one gets broken more often than not; girls can never make up their damn minds!
When the text alert for my phone had gone off this morning, I rolled over to grab it, only to be hit by the solid chest that belonged to Micah Woods. He was snoring in my face with whiskey still heavy on his breath. Last night was Sigma Alpha’s first get-to-know-the-fraternity night of Rush Week. I love when a new school year starts; it brings in a bunch of new guys. Micah is in Sig Alpha and lives in the house. I usually try not to stay the night at any of the Greek houses because I hate waking up in them. The next morning, the magic of the party has worn off and all you’re left with is beer cans, vomit and a guy asleep in the bathtub. For some reason, there is always a guy asleep in the bathtub; I can never understand how they got themselves there.
This morning was definitely a sign that I should never stay the night again. I have no idea where my clothes are and it seems like all of Micah’s clothes are disgustingly dirty in piles on his floor. I sent Quinn a text to see if she had any idea where my clothes may be and she told me to check down by the pool. So apparently, I had been in the pool last night. I guess that would explain why I was only wearing a bra and panties. It was actually Quinn’s bra and my panties. I’m guessing we thought it would be a brilliant idea to switch last night. Not so brilliant now, seeing as Quinn is two-cup sizes smaller and I’m having a hard time keeping it all in. I grabbed my phone and my purse; thankfully, I had enough insight to bring that upstairs with me last night, and quietly walked toward the door. Before I could reach the doorknob, I stepped on a beer bottle cap and yelped. Micah sat straight up in a huff from under the covers.
“What! Are you okay, Em?” he asked me in a voice that was scratchy and deep from sleep and too much whiskey.
His eyes were squinting at the brightness of the morning. He was attractive with a smooth, broad chest and bright golden brown eyes. He was fun last night, but sadly, it was night number three with him.
“Crap, sorry Micah! I didn’t mean to wake you. I just stepped on a bottle cap and cut my foot,” I said, bouncing on one foot while holding up the other. “Go back to sleep, I’m just heading out.”