Too Easy Read online

  Too Easy

  Willow Winters

  Contents

  Too Easy

  Preface

  One Day

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  They’re Running

  Chapter 5

  She Asked For It

  Preface

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  About Willow

  Too Easy

  Whore, slut, an easy lay… I’ve been called a lot of things.

  It turns me on most when a man says it while he’s fucking me.

  * * *

  People say there’s a reason I am the way I am.

  And sure, some shit happened to me.

  Some fucked up shit I’d never wish on anyone.

  But I’ve been like this long before that night.

  * * *

  That’s not what this story’s about, though.

  You think you know? You don’t know a thing.

  Let’s start from the beginning, all about how I asked for it.

  Preface

  Allison

  * * *

  Whore, slut, an easy lay… I’ve been called a lot of things. It turns me on most when a man says it while he’s fucking me. I like being called a dirty whore. Is that so bad?

  I don’t know at what point I stopped caring about what people thought; I know it was more from hate than anything else though.

  They want me to change, but I don’t. I like who I am; sometimes I even love it. Those moments are fleeting, no matter how hard I try to hold on to them. It’s like a drug, easing my pain and giving me a moment, just a moment, to forget everything and be the person I want to be. Guilt free.

  I used to wonder why I am the way I am.

  They say there’s a reason, and sure, some shit happened to me. Some fucked up, horrific shit I’d never wish on anyone. But I’ve had these thoughts and urges since I was young.

  Back when I still wore baggy sweaters and listened to my mother. Back when I hit puberty at thirteen years old and only one of my friends went through the change with me.

  Sam liked what I liked too. Well, some of it. And even she said I was dirty.

  Nice girls don’t watch gangbangs and porn labeled “brutal.” At least that’s what my mother spat out when she ripped the computer away from me. Disgust was quick to replace the horror that was on her face when she caught me watching.

  Back then, there was no reason for me to be this way.

  I used to lie awake and pray to God to make the thoughts stop.

  It was shameful to feel wet and needy when the dirty scenes crept into my dreams.

  It took a long time for me to just accept that I like what I like.

  Even still, I’m ashamed but not at all because of anything that’s obvious.

  One night changed my world forever. It made me pray harder. But God never answered my prayers to make the dirty thoughts stop at night.

  I simply prefer sex to be rough, nearly violent. I like the idea of being easy, too easy.

  I have a favorite color too. It’s purple.

  Ask me why it’s my favorite, and I can’t tell you. Same goes for what I like to do in bed.

  But that’s not what this story’s about.

  There are moments that define you. And as I stand outside of the house I’ve rented two blocks from the university’s dorms, that one night made me who I am, keeps coming back to me.

  And that one night five years ago is what’s brought me here.

  One Day

  In one day, a life can change. Or more than one.

  Sometimes it’s a single moment that alters everything in existence.

  Sometimes is the fall of dominoes, lined up in a pretty, little row and designed for each one to cause more and more pain.

  In a single day it’s all changed, and there’s no way to take it back.

  Chapter 1

  Dean

  Five years ago

  * * *

  “’Suck my dick?’” Principal Talbot asks as she stares at me with a serious expression. “Did you really tell Mrs. Pearson to suck your dick?” She’s pissed, and that makes her question all the more thrilling.

  Not that I wanted to cause problems, but come on, is it really that serious? So much so that one little line can ruin everything. They’re just words.

  She slams the window down in her office, hushing the sounds of the students as they walk just outside the room. The bell rang only a minute ago, but everyone’s already running from class and eager to get the hell away from Stewart High, a private school on the east side of town.

  My fingers itch to be out there too so I can sneak in a smoke before I have to go home. Everyone says it’s so damn bad for you, but it’s the only break I get. If I have to keep on moving through the motions, I’d rather do it stoned.

  My lips twitch with the threat of a smirk but I make sure I keep a stone cold expression. I shrug and lean back in my chair as I glance over my shoulder and toward the door of her office.

  “Do you think this is funny?” she asks me, her nostrils flaring as she stands up from her desk. She slams both hands down to lean over her desk and glare at me. “Do you think this is some sort of game?” With every word, her voice gets louder.

  My spine stiffens and I feel the anger rising. But it’s not for her. Or Mrs. Pearson. It’s just that I’m so used to being screamed at. My body’s ready for what’s next.

  I scratch my shoulder blade and try not to show anything but a relaxed posture. I won’t let any of them get to me.

  “It’s school, Miss Talbot. School is certainly not a game,” I answer her and square my shoulders, folding my hands in my lap although my foot taps on the floor anxiously. Maybe I’m baiting her, but then again, maybe I don’t give a fuck.

  It’s only a matter of time until my mother or stepfather comes through the door. I anticipate it swinging open, but at the same time, I’m not sure if they’ll even bother to show.

  “Three schools this year, Dean. You’ve already been kicked out of two and now you’re on your way to being kicked out of your third. Are you looking to set a record?” the principal asks me.

  I don’t answer her. It’s rhetorical anyway.

  I’m sure she has a speech prepared and I’d just hate to interrupt her. I like being quiet anyway. My dad used to say, if you’re quiet long enough, the words you finally say have more impact. Sometimes I think he only told me that so I’d shut up.

  She takes her seat again and angrily clicks on her mouse as she reads through the offenses. “Aggravated assault and drug possession, resulting in expulsion from Hamilton.”

  It was just pot and that fucker Darrell knew he was going to get his ass beat. That’s what happens when you try to steal from someone. Even if it is just fifty bucks for pot. He had it coming but decided to be a little bitch and rat.

  She pauses to glance at me for my reaction before scrolling down what must be my school record.

  I don’t react and just wait for the rest of the list.

  “Destruction of public property and public indecency,” she says and then purses her lips.

  The last one makes me smile and I have to hide it with my hand, covering my mouth, but it doesn’t fool her.

  “I’ll ask you again. Do you think this is funny?” she asks me with a pinched expression and I have to roll my eyes.

  “I was just showing my ass,” I tell her even though I know it’s going to piss her off. It doesn’t matter what I say right now anyway. The end result is the same.

  “And was it funny when you told Mrs. Pearson to suck your dick?” she asks and then slips off her thin-
rimmed glasses, folding them and calmly setting them down on the desk.

  I rest my elbow on the chair and prop my chin up to look at her. “I didn’t think she’d hear it,” I admit. And that’s the truth.

  Her brow shoots up slightly. “So, it’d be okay if she hadn’t heard it?”

  “Not really,” I answer, feeling my defenses raise. “But it’s not okay to call someone a failure and a waste of space,” I say and my words are pushed through clenched teeth as I try to remember what my teacher said. I know she said failure at least. I know for a fact she did. All because I couldn’t remember a fucking formula.

  “This is about your repeated offenses, Dean,” the principal says but there’s a hint of hesitation in her response. She unfolds her glasses and gently puts them back on.

  “You’re only a freshman and your options for both public and private schools are dwindling. Do you think acting like this is going to help you deal with your issues?”

  My mouth slams shut. The air between us tenses and I can see her expression change. It’s a look of victory; she’s finally found something that gets to me.

  Principal Talbot shakes her head, the look of disappointment clearly forced. “You have no idea how much you’re hurting yourself,” she tells me as if she really cares.

  I scoff at her and look back to the door.

  None of them care. They just want me gone so I’m not their problem to deal with anymore.

  “I can’t have this type of behavior here and quite frankly, this was a favor to your mother.” She looks me in the eyes as she says, “Who, I’m sure, is going to be very disappointed in you.”

  Her voice is stern, but that’s not what gets to me. It’s not what makes me rip my eyes away from hers and pick at the fuzz on the red fabric covering the arms of the chair I’m sitting in. It’s the fact that my mother won’t give a damn. Maybe she’ll say she does. Maybe she’ll even stand there next to that prick she married while he cusses me out for wasting his time. But does she really care? Not about me, she doesn’t.

  “So what now?” I ask and look Principal Talbot in the eyes.

  “We wait for your parents to get here-”

  “Parent,” I correct her and hold her gaze as she narrows her eyes at me. “I only have one parent.” My voice almost catches. I almost let my true feelings show. But thankfully they’re hidden, still buried where they belong.

  “Your mother and stepfather then,” she corrects herself.

  I huff and stare at the fuzz on the fabric, picking up the little pieces between my thumb and forefinger.

  She better get comfortable. The last time this happened they never even bothered to show up.

  Chapter 2

  Allison

  “You know you look like a ho.” Sam tells me, although she cocks her brow like it’s a question.

  “Shut up,” I respond dismissively, although I can’t hide my smile. It’s only a blip of happiness that’s quickly dimmed by my rising anxiety.

  After putting on another coat of the caramel apple lip gloss, I step back and try to pull my jean skirt down. It doesn’t budge much though.

  “Is it too much?” I ask her, feeling an overwhelming need to hide and not go out tonight. My heart races as my gaze sweeps from my short skirt to the clock on the far wall of my bedroom. It’s one thing to think about sneaking out to meet a boy. It’s another to actually do it.

  Samantha rolls her eyes as she slips on her white blazer over a short red dress. It’s skintight, showing off her curves and barely hiding her breasts, but Sam’s always showing off her boobs.

  She hit puberty first and it was damn good to her. Not so much to me.

  “It’s perfect,” she says with a wink.

  “My mom would kill me,” I mutter as I take one last look in the mirror.

  “Well, your mom’s not here, so there’s nothing to worry about,” Sam says like this is no big deal.

  “I don’t know,” I say softly. Sam’s my friend. My best friend. I’ve never kept anything from her. She already knows my stomach’s acting up. She devoured half of the pizza we ordered with the twenty buck my mom left us for dinner. I’m leaving the box on the counter. I know it’ll tick her off to see it, but I do it every time Sam stays over and I don’t want her to think we were up to anything.

  Like sneaking out. My heart flutters again with anxiety, racing and warning me yet again that this is stupid. That I’m stupid.

  Her face falls slightly and she leans against my dresser as she asks me, “Is it because you think Mike’s going to want some?”

  I huff out a sarcastic laugh and shake my head no as I stare at the ceiling to avoid her prying eyes.

  “I thought you wanted to?” she asks me with genuine interest.

  “I do,” I answer immediately. “I’ve been thinking about how I want to do it.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin,” Sam says, and there’s a look on her face I can’t place. Not even a trace of a smile is there. “If you want to wait, then wait.”

  “It’s not that, I just like him and what if he’s not into it?” I swallow thickly and pick at my just-done nail polish. “Or what if that’s not what he expects,” I tell her and shrug, as if it doesn’t matter.

  “But you want it too, don’t you?” she asks. Samantha straightens her back and I can see her swallow as she looks straight ahead. “I want to know what it’s like,” she admits to me.

  “I know. I want to know too,” I tell her as if that’s not obvious. “I just really like him, but if we do it tonight, is Mike going to think that I’m like… easy or something?”

  “Oh please,” Samantha says and rolls her eyes. “You’re thinking about this too much. If you want to do it, then do it. If you don’t, then don’t. It’s literally that easy,” she says and then turns back to the dresser, the tension from just a moment ago apparently all but forgotten.

  “We’re finally in high school, Allie,” Sam tells me and I nod my head although I keep my eyes on my reflection. I wish I looked like it. Sam’s more mature and it’s obvious, but it’s the confidence she has that I truly lack.

  “Sneaking out is like a rite of passage,” she says. “I get that you like Mike and all, but just have fun tonight.”

  “But there’s so much pressure,” I tell her, feeling anxiety running through me again.

  Sam shrugs, popping the cap to her lip gloss back on and striding toward the bed for her shoes. “So what?” she asks me. “It’s just a party and it’s going to be a blast, and everything’s going to be fine.”

  “Are you going to drink?” I ask her and then feel like I’m my mother.

  She laughs and her eyes go wide as she says, “Duh!” As she ties up the laces to her shoes around her ankles, she adds, “Are you even sure his brother got the beer?”

  “He said he was getting all sorts of things.” Mike’s brother is a few years older and it’s his party technically. Mike invited me and Sam. I was so excited when he told me, but right now is something completely different.

  “And what’d you tell him?” she asks me.

  “That I liked vodka,” I say softly, feeling my cheeks heat with a blush and she laughs again.

  “Have you ever even had vodka?” she teases me.

  “Shut up,” I tell her again. “It’s not like you’ve had it before.”

  “Check it out,” Sam says in a singsong voice as she reaches into her tote bag. It’s all black leather and I think she stole it from her mom’s closet.

  “Holy shit,” I say under my breath and walk to the bed with my eyes focused on the bottle.

  “It’s like a party present or something,” Sam says as I pick up the bottle of red blend wine. “Hostess favor,” she says, although it sounds like a question. “Is that what it’s called?” she asks me.

  I set the heavy bottle back down in her bag. “I don’t know,” I tell her, still feeling uneasy.

  “Hey, relax,” Sam says and then shifts on my bed. It creaks under her
weight. “As far as your mom knows, we’re having a sleepover and tomorrow morning when she comes home, we’ll be right here.” She pats the bed and then grips my shoulders. “Tonight we’re going to go to Mike’s house,” she says and tilts her head and emphasizes my crush’s name. “And we’re going to be chill and cool and he’s going to get to know you better.”

  “Maybe we can use the bottle to play spin the bottle?” I ask her as the idea of sitting in Mike’s basement and playing makes me feel giddier than it does anything else.

  Her smile widens and her eyes brighten. “Fucking fantastic idea,” she squeals. “This is why I love you,” she adds and then jumps off the bed.

  “It’s not because we’ve been friends for forever?” I joke back with her.

  “Best friends for life!” she answers and then twirls her long, dark brown hair around her finger. “Seriously, tonight is going to be amazing,” she says with so much excitement and happiness, it’s contagious.

  “Can I ask you something?” I cut through the happiness… yet again.

  “Anything,” Sam says instantly, looking right at me and giving me her full attention.

  “Does it make me a whore if I want to have sex?” I ask her. “Like, even if I don’t really want to be with Mike, but I want to know what it’s like?”

  “Pretty sure that’s normal, babe,” she says with a smile. “If not, I’m fucked.”

  Chapter 3