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'Jenna, I've done something bad... Something really bad,' I whispered fearfully, like a little girl. I scrambled over to her bed, opened the thick curtains and sat down clumsily, the events of the night finally clicking. My hair was still wet from my shower, the last of the dye still clinging to my fingernails. I had no make up on and I knew I must look a state. Then I realised we were both in the dark, and she couldn't see me through the pillow covering her face. Carrie is sitting up in her bed, writing neatly in her diary as always. Lily's been here- her shoes are lying near her bed- but now she's nowhere to be seen.
'I've done something bad,' I whispered in horror, the realisation of what I had done finally sinking in. It replayed in my head, more real now than when it actually happened.
'Do you know where we could go?' I whisper.
He pauses, round brown eyes considering mine. I find his mouth and suck down on his lower lip before pulling away, trying to weaken him, persuade him to give me what I want.
'If you don't want to, I understand,' I say sincerely. Sincerely twisting the truth. I know what I want, what I need from him tonight. I guess I was playing him. Before he did it first. He kisses down my neck, but I pull him away. Don't make me beg...
'Please,' I whisper, despite myself, looking deliberately into his eyes.
'But... I don't know who you are...'
'You wouldn't want to, trust me,' I tell the truth.
'I want to know...'
I kiss around his neck and trace my fingers up to his lips when he tries to speak.
'You don't want to know.' I distract him, tease him, leading him down the corridor subtly. I know where there's a door, and a room just like a crappy motel. We almost fall inside the door, but we're in. And I'm getting what I want.
I take off my dress, hanging it carefully on the chair. (I did not spend three weeks making the bloody thing for it to get ruined in a single night!) I was glad I had worn my black lace underwear. He follows my cue but dumps his costume on the floor carelessly, and his black boxers are not lace. (I might have been worried if they were.)
We kiss again, hands running everywhere. Out of breath but kissing like the world was going to end.
Crashing and burning.
He pauses, hesitant. It finally clicks.
'You haven't... You've never...' I don't finish, struck dumb by the wonder of it. He shakes his head, embarrassed. Something other than lust ignites inside me and surprisingly I see it in his eyes too. I think its called: tenderness. Or maybe even the dreaded 'L' word. The next kiss is gentle and soothing but strong enough to set my heart beat racing and to spark our lust. Lust is like fire: growing, passionate, fiery and uncontrollable.
But no fire lasts forever.
Still trying to calm my breathing and he reaches over to the crumpled costume, bringing out a small velvet box. Of course. A ring for me, to acknowledge what had just happened between us. A ring he wasn't going to see again. He shyly fits it on the fourth finger of my right hand- the middle, second and thumb are taken. It's pretty- silver with three black jewels. One last kiss, and he finds it so easy to sleep. I lie beside him, comforted by the warmth of his body and the sound of his breathing. I want to reach out and hug him close to me, but I don't. I need to leave. I'm already in deep enough- too deep.
I slip my dress back on, secure the train and look at him. One last kiss. He does not wake. One last kiss. From the girl he'll never see again.
I stumble back to the dorm, ripping my hair extensions out roughly.
I stub my toe on the door.
I see Carrie's still form, her shaking silhouette. She's crying.
I smudge make up all over my face, the mascara stinging.
I slide into the shower, and it's scalding hot.
I dye my hair, and it gets stuck under my fingernails. I try and claw it out.
I think of Sirius.
It hurts the most.