Tagged
I’m on my way to pick up Holly from her dorm. She just finished writing a paper and she wants to celebrate by getting drunk and fucking. I have no problem with this form of celebration. I’m on the 405, listening to Crystal Castles, because it reminds me of the first time I went to her dorm room, when the music cuts out and my phone rings over my car’s speakers. I look at the caller ID in the console screen and see it’s Alyna. As much as I don’t want to talk to her, I assume it’s serious if she’s calling me. I press the answer button on my steering wheel and she says, “So you took that little fucking whore to Carlos’s wedding?”
I don’t know what I should say. She obviously found out, but if she found out through hearsay, I might still be able to salvage this with some deft bending of the truth or some unabashed outright lying. I say, “What?”
She says, “I was supposed to go to that wedding with you.”
There’s something in the way she says that last bit, some outrage that I don’t think she’s earned the right to have, that really pisses me off. Carlos was always my friend. Alyna was only invited because she’s my wife. In my head it makes perfect sense that I should be able to take whoever I fucking want to take to his wedding. I say, “I know you were, but things have obviously changed.”
She says, “No shit, asshole. I just didn’t think you’d take that little slut to a wedding I was supposed to go to. I thought you’d just go by yourself. But I forgot—you have no class.”
I’m curious why she thinks I took Holly, and I want to see if there’s any way out of this. I say, “Are you just assuming I took her?”
She says, “No, you stupid piece of shit, I saw a picture of you two together on her Facebook page.”
I say, “Are you fucking stalking her on Facebook?”
She says, “Uh, no, dickhead. I’m not as hopelessly desperate to know everything you’re doing as you think I am. She fucking tagged you in it and I got an alert.”
I want to drive my car through the guardrail and go careening off the side of the 405 freeway into the 7-Eleven I’m passing. I say, “Oh.”
She says, “Oh is right, dickhead. I don’t know why I thought there might be some way for us to work this out, or salvage anything, at least for the kids’ sake, but this little bitch has you so wrapped around her finger it’s disgusting. I can’t even think about you in the same way. You’re like a different person. I mean, I never thought you of all people could get so warped by something so clichéd. And the sad thing is, you don’t even see it. She’s using you. She got a free trip to Boston out of it. I bet you buy her dinners and pay for all kinds of things. And what does she have to do for that? Suck your dick? Shit, sign me up.”
And I lose any ability to maintain my composure. I’m fuming. I want to kick my windshield out and scream until my throat bleeds. I say, “You were signed up for that shit. But you stopped doing the dick-sucking part.”
I can hear Alyna on the other end of the phone gasping or trying to speak or something, but no words come through my car’s speakers for a few seconds. Then the phone call ends and Crystal Castles comes back through the speakers.
I drive angry all the way to Holly’s place. When I get there, I don’t mention how stupid it was of her to tag me in that photo on her Facebook page. I assume she wouldn’t agree with me or even understand why I wouldn’t want to be tagged, because she puts photos of everything she does on her Facebook page and tags everyone in them and they all seem to be fine with this. Privacy is a concept that has no meaning to Holly.
That night, as I fuck her doggy-style, I grip the back of her neck harder than usual. I want it to hurt a little. I want it to seem like punishment, or at least like I’m exerting control over her, but it just makes her cum faster than usual. When I blow my load in her face, making sure to get some in her eyes, she genuinely thinks it’s hot, as evidenced by the way she wipes my infertile load out of her eyes with her fingers and then licks them.
On the drive back to my hotel room I contemplate deleting my Facebook account but realize that the damage is already done—and that without my Facebook account, I’d have no way of knowing how many guys want to fuck Holly besides me.