Page 2 of Drawn Together

He blinked a few times. “Fuck… you’re even hotter up close.”

I didn’t have to look at Liam to know he was rolling his eyes.

“Yes?” I asked calmly. Compliments meant nothing to me.

The guy stuttered, then took a business card from his shirt pocket and handed it to me. “I’d love to buy you dinner sometime,” he said, his voice now a bit steadier.

I looked at his card. His name was Harry, and he was an architect. He probably had no idea I was only twenty years old. That’s what I got for going out on Wall Street.

“I’ll think about it,” I answered.

Harry smiled, and I noticed a dimple in his left cheek. I smiled back, and he waved goodbye. He hadn’t even asked for my name. I put the card in my purse and turned back to my friend, who was looking at me with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

“Sometimes I’m horrified by how similar you are to me.”

I shook my head. “We are nothing alike and you know it.”

Liam sighed. “The guy who finally gets to sleep with you will be one lucky dude.”

I glared at him. “Shh, don’t tell anyone my deep, dark secret.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Do you care that dudes lie about having slept with you?”

Yes, it bothered me.

“If they have to lie to make themselves feel more like men, let them. If anyone wants to know the truth, they can ask me.”

“You’re like a praying mantis. You know that, right?”

“I’ve never eaten anyone; I simply take what I want and discard the rest.”

Liam laughed. “You’re so naive. One day some dude’s going to make you lose your mind, and you’ll have to swallow all those feminist ideas of yours.”

“It has nothing to do with feminism. Men have used women since the beginning of time; they take what they want and move on. What’s wrong with me doing the same thing? I’m not going to let someone else enjoy my body; I want to be the one doing the enjoying.”

Liam looked at me like I was clueless. “Any man on earth would enjoy just looking at you, Marfil. Touching you would be like winning the lottery for them, believe me.”

It’s not like anyone had ever taken me to the point of ecstasy, ever. But Liam didn’t need to know that. No one did.

I fell silent for a couple of minutes, then finally said, “You’re the only person I’d be willing to go further with, because we’re friends.”

Liam choked on his beer. “And that, right there, tells me that you’re drunk. Come on, let’s go; I’ll take you home.”

I wasn’t lying about Liam being the only man I’d consider offering myself up to completely. Out of all the guys on the planet, he was the only one I trusted. I had thought about it many times, because even though I had plenty of experience in everything that came before sex, I was afraid of taking it all the way. From a young age, my father had instilled in me the notion that a woman’s virtue was the most important thing she had. And the nuns at boarding school had spared no details about every awful thing that could happen to us if we gave in to the sin of lust. For some reason, that was the only thing from boarding school I took to heart. Everyone around me seemed so obsessed with virginity, and losing said virginity, and eventhough I desperately wanted to rebel, and did in some ways, I was still incapable of taking that last step.

Liam drove me home in his gray Audi. He’d just recently bought it, and the seats still had that new-car smell. Unlike a lot of students, I didn’t live on campus. My father allowed me to move to New York for college on the condition that he would decide where I lived. My apartment was located on the Upper East Side, one of the most expensive parts of town, and was only a train ride from campus. I might sound spoiled, but I couldn’t have cared less about living in one of the most exclusive buildings in Manhattan. I’d been surrounded by luxury all my life, and even though many people thought I was an idiot for even going to college when it was clear I’d inherit a fortune, I had always known I would try to forge my own path.

I was great with numbers, so economics made sense. But for pretty much the entirety of my teenage years, I’d begged my father to let me join the New York City Ballet. His answer was always a resounding no, and when I tried to stand up to him, I ended up regretting it. I’d been forced to give up my dreams of being a professional dancer, but if having an entire apartment to myself was good for anything, it was being able to dance as much as I wanted at home.

I gave Liam a kiss on the cheek, and we promised to hang out before the weekend. I waved to Norman, the doorman, as I crossed the lobby of my building to the elevator. Living alone in New York City might seem brave for a young woman, but my neighborhood was very safe, mostly families of bankers who had made obscene amounts of money on Wall Street. My father was one of them.

My apartment was minimalistic, with almost no decorations except for a few bright pink throw pillows. My motto was:The less you have, the less you have to clean, and I followed it religiously. I was lucky to have such a large apartment, at leastby New York City standards: two bedrooms (not including the staff’s room), two bathrooms, and an open-concept living-dining-kitchen. Since I lived alone, I’d set up a dance studio in the second bedroom, where I spent most of my time at home. I had even installed a ballet barre and large mirrors that returned my gaze as I relaxed to the rhythm of the music.

On one of the living room walls, my other best friend, Tamara, had begun painting a mural I could stare at endlessly. It was a conglomeration of quotes from our favorite books, pictures of us, song lyrics, flowers, and most of all eyes, of all sizes, showing all types of expressions… Tami studied people’s gazes, and I was amazed by her ability to transpose them almost perfectly onto any flat surface, as long as she had something to paint with. She once drew a Minion for me on a Starbucks napkin using only a stirring stick and the foam from my Frappuccino.

I set my purse on the island and went directly to the fridge, although I’m not really sure why. I was a disaster in the kitchen. I once tried to make myself a shepherd’s pie using my former stepmother’s recipe, but I forgot about it in the oven and almost burned down the entire apartment. It was safer to order takeout.

I had a microeconomics exam coming up, so I decided to sit down and study. I put on some classical music, and before I knew it, the hours had flown by. When I opened my eyes, I realized that I’d fallen asleep in a very uncomfortable position. I sat up, wishing someone could carry me to bed like a little girl.