Chapter 4

About 22 years ago, your name was Roxy Lalonde, and you were a horny, drunk 16 year old who was invited to go to an exclusive "seniors only" graduation party. Wait that first part sounds a little confusing even to you and this is your nostalgic stumble down memory lane after downing an entire bottle of $5 merlot. You still are Roxy Lalonde, but the Roxy you would like to be for this story is the one from 22 years ago.

Be the other Roxy

You are now the other Roxy and as previously mentioned, you're already drunk before arriving to the biggest party of the year. From all the hype you'd heard in the locker room, it was going to be the epitome of underage drinking and sex. Sounds like your kind of party. Your now ex, senior boyfriend had given you the address. That was the only reason you'd gone out with him in the first place. You were a bit nervous to come actually, so you'd taken shots before going to calm your nerves. You think your personality is better when doused in alcohol anyways.

You had a friend, Jane, drive you there because you didn't want to die like in the "Above the Influence" commercials that played on MTV. Jane is your best friend and pretty much the only one who puts up with your drunken, horny, angsty self. She was going to graduate next year. When the realization had hit you, you cried more than when your first cat died. She normally didn't go to house parties like this, but you'd convinced her when you said that her crush would be there. You weren't sure if he was or wasn't, but Jane and you agreed that it was worth the gamble. She was a little quiet tonight. You guess she was nervous too. You'd arrived to the house, but Jane picked the street over to park her car. Damnit, you hate when she did this. Her car was a used 2000 Civic that her dad had gotten for her, but she treated it like a goddamn BMW.

"Janey, your car isn't going to get fuckin stolen. You're gonna make me walk over there in my 7 inch fuck-me pumps? If I break my ankle you're paying for it," You start to ramble.

"Hey, my car my rules Ro-Lol," she says while smirking.

"Whatevs, just tell me where I'm walking, k?" You try to make sure you sound serious for that part because you really are scared that you're going to fall.

"Sure, what are besties for? I'd never let you fall on your drunk ass unless it was in front of a large group of people,"

"Right, cus that's fuckin comedy gold, and you can't let that shit go?"

"Of course,"

The house is definitely only about 100 feet away. It's a two story typical suburban type deal. Probably had five bedrooms and pool judging by the size. The outside was lighted by several multicolored lanterns, but the lights from inside glowed through the window panes. A low bass was pulsating, you could feel it in your chest already. You take one last breath of fresh, cool evening air and adjust your skin tight leather dress. You open the door slowly because you could already tell it was packed and you didn't want to make that kind of entrance. Jane's following closely behind, grabbing onto the string of your blue purse. You turn around and smile at her, she looks like you've just entered an insane asylum or something. Sheer terror is peeking through her obviously fake smile. It's the smile she gives you when you tell her in explicit detail your sexual fantasies. You both push past the crowd of sweaty drunk senior males who are looking at you both like you're a piece of fresh lady meat. That metaphor didn't make sense, but hell they weren't giving you Romantic courting stares. You push past them and don't make a fuss about it. You find yourself by the door to the backyard soon enough, away from the blasting music and general stuffiness of the room. Outside is where the beer keg is anyways. You grab two cups; one for you and one for Jane to pretend to drink. You both find somewhere to sit when you spot a guy you sit behind in English, Dirk. A Troll you've never seen before is occupying his attention. The dude looks pretty strange: white, pin-straight hair, odd green suit, and red eyes. Dirk is visibly uncomfortable so you saunter over there. Roxy to the fucking rescue.

"Heeyyyy, Dirk. I didn't know you were gonna be here," You shout from across the lawn. Dirk looks up with a pitiful expression, so you can tell he heard you, but he continues to listen to the troll with a painful expression. Upon further examination you see the troll is pretty much clawing at Dirk's wrist whenever he shifts away.

"... So as I was getting too, and provided the many logical reasons, I propose you become my matesprite and I shall be your "Boyfriend,"" The Troll ends what seemed like the longest date proposal in the universe.

"Erm, that sounds great and all, but how do I put this? I'm not attracted to males," He looks visibly terrified. You sit in the chair next to him to get a better view of this dramatic rejection.

"Oh yeah, you just fucking make out with guys behind the school gym for shits and giggles then. You couldn't raise your bone bulge with a female present if your life depended on it" He scoffed.

"Yeah, don't fucking believe me? Witness this then," He shouts as he turns and suddenly he's grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you in to his own face.

Much to your surprise, he's moving his lips against yours with crushing force. One of his hands is tangled in a lock of your hair and the other is cupping your left breast. Your mind is trying to keep up, but the vodka you'd drunk earlier is making cognition a bit difficult at the moment. So, you keep the façade up and really give this Troll dick what he wants to see. You dig your long acrylics into the back of Dirks neck and open your mouth fully for him to explore. You're giving the loudest sighs you can while attempting to sound natural. He leaves your mouth to work on leaving marks on your neck. You look up and see that most everyone is staring at you two including Jane, but at this point you've run out of fucks to give. The look on the Troll guy's face is fucking priceless. His cheeks are flushed vibrantly red and his mouth is wide open in true terror. As a response to this, you start giving your best pornstar moans, which make him visibly more upset.

"Oh baby I like it when you moan," Says Dirk keeping a pokerface behind his pointy anime shades. You can tell he's trying not to laugh.

"You wanna continue this somewhere private?" You whisper loudly by his ear and then nibble it softly.

He literally sweeps you off your feet and carries you bridal style across the patio and into the loud house where he sets you down. He pulls ahead and grabs your hand to guide you to a hallway. The air smells like weed and sex in the tight dimly light space. He leads you into a room in which the door has been left open. He swiftly removes the skinny black tie he'd been wearing and ties it to the door knob before closing it. You kick off your heels and join him to sit on the bed. He's got his head in his hands and rubbing his temples with his long fingers. You put your arm on his back and start rubbing in a comforting motion. He's still got the shades on, but you can see the corners of his mouth turn down.

"You wanna talk 'bout it?"

"Nah, I just don't want to go back," He mutters while staring at the expensive plush white carpet. You chose to stare at the paintings on the wall. This is obviously a guest bedroom, judging by the non-offensive, bland décor. Mostly flower paintings, the bed spread is white with tiny flowers. The bed itself looks like it's never been slept in and it probably hasn't with the exclusion crazy teen one night stands. A few moments pass in silence like this. You wonder why you even went with him into this place if he wasn't going to put out.

"If this isn't going anywhere, than I'm gonna find Janey. Make sure she's not in any trouble or nothing," You speak quietly.

"No, don't go," He grabs your wrist when you get up to go. You sit down once more.

"Isn't what that guy said back there true? I really thought you were gay until just then," You spit out. You weren't leaving without an answer anyways.

"It's true… All of it. I dunno, I guess I'm really bad at rejectin people," He sits up and moves his hand to the back of his neck nervously.

"I'm not a therapist or nothin, but that's pretty messed up, rejectin a nice guy by making out with someone you don't even want to,"

"Says the 16 year old drunk girl who moans like a pornstar?" He chuckles

"Hey, I'm not thaaat drunk," You laugh along with him "I'm still conscious ain't I?" The laughing dies down and you realize that you're both staring at each other for a time.

"You know, I've never really had sex with a female before,'

"Honey, I can tell. You're still referin to us chicks as 'females'. Do you wanna try?"

"I guess I gotta at least once. See what I'm missin,"

"That's what I was hopin you'd say," You whisper in his ear.

Several awkward moments of undressing later, he's on top of you, grunting softly as he thrusts. Your faces are only a few inches apart and you can feel his breath on your face. Oh god, he still has those ridiculous shades on. Maybe that's a thing that guys like better, you wonder. No, back focusing on sex. You're trying to focus on the sensation which is usually amazing to you, but you're just not in to it. You can tell that he's not really into it either. Usually you can make guys sweat and scream your name, but you just can't get over his lack-luster thrusting and the weird expression he's giving you. His face looks like he's just shoved his dick into a bucket of vomit or something. It's making you nervous and you aren't even turned on anymore. You let him try to finish, but it's taking motherfucking forever. This was an embarrassing mistake obviously. After what seems like an hour you finally feel him come inside you. Neither of you had a condom because you are both retarded teens at this point. He gets off you and plops down by your side. You get off the bed to go clean up and get dressed in the bathroom. You take a quick shower because you don't want him to see your tears. You really don't know why you're crying, but you suspect that you'd never really had a bad experience with sex until now. You weren't use to it. You let the hot water run over your overly straightened platinum hair and suddenly couldn't stand, so you sat down. You sat for a long time and let the water wash over you until it turned ice cold. God, were you vain. You dry off, suddenly numb, and pull your hair up. The black leather dress you'd been wearing feels tight against your still wet skin, but as uncomfortable as it might be, you just want to get the fuck out of there. You slip your shoes on as silently as possible; Dirk is still laying in the same spot. You step over his leather looking jeans and head out the door.

"You leaving?" He asks.

"Yup, I gotta get back to Jane," You mutter.

"D'you want my number,"

"Nah, I'll see you next year," You didn't hear what he said next because you had already closed the door.

Soon enough you found Jane inside, she was petting the cat in the corner. You grab her hand and rush for the door. The party seems muffled now as you make your exit. Once outside, Jane looks visibly relieved; she probably wasn't having a great time either. You silently make your way to the Civic and Jane doesn't ask you any questions. She just drops you off at your apartment. You turned down her offer to sleepover at her house, the notion of cake was really turning your stomach.

That was the last time you would ever talk to Dirk Strider because he moved before the school year started. You assumed that was what he was trying to tell you when you left that night. Around the time you found this out, you also started feeling strange. After the first missed period, you took a test, which turned out positive. You were so scared and embarrassed you didn't try to contact him at all. You kept the baby, to this day you aren't sure why. You named her Rose. That was 21 years and 3 months ago though. You still like to remember that night though in the hope that you'll find Dirk one day. Maybe then you won't be so alone.

Current Roxy, go outside and stare into the night nostalgically

You back out of your apartment to a sound of distress. It's a man, late 30's, blond hair and tears are falling down behind his pointy anime shades.

"You're out of booze or ice cream. Don't worry, I have both," You smile slyly to the sobbing boy.