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emilieexposes-blog · 7 years

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Eray’s Exposé

I like to think about my dream guy. My mind works in numbers and figures and ideas. Once I find a pattern, I allow the pattern to direct my life. Even my love life. I don’t do blonde guys, except maybe Thomas Rider, who I was pressed up against on the M86 bus for about an hour today. He could be a brunette because he has dark eyebrows. I love brunette guys. Sharp jawlines and sprinkles of freckles turn me on. Tall guys who can pull me up against their thin chests.

Boys have this taste and smell around them, I think it might be Old Spice, or something, I don’t really know. But the warmth of their tongues and the prickles of their hastily shaven stubble against my nose drives me insane.

My type is the guy who I can’t have. The best friend. The three years older. The older brother. The foreigner.

Eray Ayd Williams. We had a shit ton of beef in the beginning of the year. He and Brady liked my dear friend Tutu, noted for her vivacious personality and determinedly large boobs. Breasts. Tits. I don't know how to talk about my friend’s chest in a not perv way. The boobs make Tutu who she is, not the other way around.

I remember when Eray got a nice haircut in like, November. That was hot. Nothing else really happened, besides a few interactions in Spanish Class, and brushes in the hallway.

At homecoming, I slapped Eray. He was being a dick. To someone. I don't remember. The not remembering part is either my brain trying to block it out or the alcohol that ran through my veins, or just that I don't remember. He wasn't of much importance. We had beef. That’s all their was to Eray and I.

I was invited to Roberto’s Sweet 16 because I was hooking up with his best friend Benjamin English. Guiffra and English. I got relevant after I gave him a hand job. I kinda feigned innocence so that I wouldn’t have to blow him. He was really nice. That was Benjamin. Funny and nice and sort of cute and had nice arms. But so nice. His chest was always warm against mine. Ben didn’t kiss my neck enough.

The sophomore guys have an obsession with me. I don't know why. They think I'm hot. I know I'm pretty but not hot as fuck id bang 10/10. Her tits are not big but like so perky. Her cheekbones like wow. Nice ass. She's actually hilarious what the fuck. Dibs on her. Thats the way the guys around me talk about girls. Wish there’d be more OMG we need more girls like Guiffra!!

Well, after Roberto’s birthday, Eray was smashed drunk. He was hooking up with this chick Charlotte Robersen. She's awesome. Really smart and athletic and kind. Model Trinity kid. Good friend. I found out that Eray lives a few blocks away from me. He definitely needed a ride home. I paid for his cab and he bought me an Evian at the Duane Reade by his house. We talked a lot. Mostly about people and our school and his older brother. We meandered the Upper East Side for about an hour and Eray finally sobered up. Enough. He added me on snapchat and yelled back a See you Monday! I love you!

The next week Eray talked me up to all of his friends. I was that good Samaritan who helped the poor drunk boy out. Not just my good deed pleased Eray and his guy squad, but my humor and comfort with almost everything. I was so comfortable with Eray and his friends in turn. Their easy-going love made me feel like I was a part of their group. Jiffy’s for the boys!

A week later, Eray and I were tight. We exchanged gossip and memes and music.

Then, the walks began. I was about to walk to the M96 bus, but I received a call from Eray asking me to walk with him across the park. I felt wanted. For once. It wasn't me putting in the effort in a friendship. I spotted his classic maroon tee shirt and enormously tall figure. He smiled and shouted at me.

That afternoon, I knew Eray and I were gonna be something special. I could trust this one. He opened up to me quickly, which was unexpected for someone who always held up a barrier between himself and anyone who wasn't a close friend. Oh my god, swear not to tell anyone that practically became his motto. I was able to tell him my actual opinions on people and things, without judgement or fear of exposure. 2 things I couldn't find with anyone else.

We became best friends. I called him my best friend and, wanted to think, I was his. God, he makes me so happy.

Special. Loved.

His voice and laugh and walk and attitude. I realized I had a thing for him at the end of spring break, just as I was ending things with Benjamin.

Eray ended stuff with Charlotte. He wasn't ever really into her.

Two days after a fiasco of breakups in the Class of 2020, I decided to host a free. Perfect chance to hop on Eray. To drunkenly slide in and confess my feelings for him.

At the party, he wore the maroon shirt again. We goofed around a lot and I flirted obsessively. I know he thinks I'm attractive. I don't know about much else. Almost an entire FourLoko in, he’s fucking sexy. The strip of tanned ab exposed makes my eyes roll back into my head.

I was lying on top of Eray’s warm chest. Warmer than Benjamin’s, than Matt’s, than Jacob’s. Our legs intertwine. My fingers play with the curling locks of hair behind his neck. I love this. I want to kiss his swollen lips and hold his rough hands and be held by his sore arms. I want him.

At the end of the party, I end up on the floor sobbing. He said something about some girl’s boobs and I slapped him. I couldn't stand up. I couldn't stop sobbing. I couldn't breathe. I just couldn't stand. May-Anne told me that Benjamin got with Andrea Sanchez. She's gorgeous. A sophomore. I sent Eray a long text confessing my crush-thing. We FaceTimed the next day and he said he would “definitely think about it” and that my crush was “a huge surprise! you really kept it on the dl.” This kid is dumb. I flirt with him incessantly.

We continue our walks, with a little more feeling. We walk a bit closer to each other. We make less eye contact. Serhat, Eray’s older brother, struts past us on a walk, and makes heart signs with his hands.

On our field trip to the Cloisters, Eray rejected me. He sees me as a friend.

I’m fat.

Ugly.

Annoying.

Unlikable.

Unlovable.

I think I get over him pretty easily. I met this ridiculously hot Nigerian guy named Mohamed who is covered in designer brands. He compliments my eyes and my cheekbones and my smile and my voice. I know he wants to get his hands into my underwear, but that doesn't stop me from indulging. Mohamed wants to see my eyes again.

I confide in Daniel. He promises to set me up with one of his hot miscreant friends. I love Dan.

It comes time for the rodeo. A huge, hormonal, grimy all-school nightclub affair. I want to rebound with a hot sophomore guy. Like Simon Gray or Paul van Dyrk or Thomas Rider or something. Anything to prove that I’m over Benjamin, and I’m hot, and I’m past Eray.

Eray is still my best friend. He bought me a giant bottle of Svedka. I wanted Bacardi, but it was alright. He’s wearing the maroon shirt again. Does this kid own any other clothes?

I’m almost blackout drunk. The strobe lights dance to the beat of the sweating teenagers. My heels make my feet burn. I feel like between each light is a few seconds. Time slows down.

His lips are on mine. Not Eray’s. Jake Andrew’s. Jack. Not Jake. Action Jackson. He's my type. Pretty hot. Go me.

Another millisecond between the strobe light feels like 5 minutes. Eray struts towards me. His arm snakes around my waist, down south to my butt. Fuck. His lips are on mine. A few seconds. They're soft but with force and plump , and wow Eray’s kissing me. He runs away.

I don’t remember the other two kisses. Just that they did, in fact, happen. Eray was blackout drunk. More than me.

We hook up. Our chests desperately press against one another. Fuck. Fuck. Finally. This is the first time a guy I’ve had a massive crush on has made out with me. Fuck.

Simon Gray was yuck. Still hot.

Eray. He’s all I can think about, yet “I see you as a friend.” “Idk. I don’t remember.”

They say drunk actions, sober thoughts. A small voice inside my heart says that he must have some deep hidden feelings for me. I was so close to getting over him. So fucking close. But I’m in love with my best friend and he thinks that I’m not good enough. I’m just Jiffy.

Fat. Ugly. Annoying. Unlikable. Unlovable. This mantra won’t escape the boundaries of my mind. I have generalized anxiety disorder. I think that’s the exact term. All I can think about is how inadequate and unlikable I am.

I think I love him. I don't know why. He can be a major dick. But he's so kind to me and his voice soothes me and his arms keep me warm. And all he wants is what I’m not. I’m stuck.

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