Saturday, 8 June 2013

High Addiction 3

We come back, with our faces blank and while we wait for the food to be served she just squeezes my hand which could also be seen as a friendly gesture. In the end Dita chooses fish, I make a face at it, as Dita peels the skin off with her knife and I choose the vegetarian option, hoping no milk is involved in it and it is pretty much vegan.

“It is vegan?” I ask the stewardess to which she looks at me like a person with a country full of meat and poverty would look like.

“Vegetarian.” And she walks away. I sulk and eat my rice with random vegetables scattered over it, I’ll puke anyway if I end up eating chicken. Dita sees my hunger and gives me her bun. It takes ages for them to take away the stinky fish and Dita tries to get rid of the smell with a small perfume bottle, which makes me laugh and her smile. We share her Coke and then a tea each, hers with milk.

“It surprises me how a lot of women who have sex with women date men instead.” I say trying to strike up a rather risky conversation, Dita on the other hand starts fiddling with her ring again. I’m still tense from my previous exams and summer barely even starting stroking my hair.

“I do that. Society. I’m scared.” There’s no point in hiding as we are both strangers and so far we have been doing what Dita wants and I’m underage. “Plus, you’re used to men, well I’m used to men. So you sugarcoat it with women.”

Dita just shrugs, sipping her tea and then wiping her lip with a napkin.

“I quit school. I couldn’t handle learning algebra.” I say, knowing that I will be simply flying to a friend to flee everything, so I feel that even Dita can judge me. Neither of us face society, I don’t face it of the fear of having a stamp on my face saying clerk and office beside each other. My father made a fuss that he can’t stand people who don’t look at an office job properly, but boring people try to make our world gray, to which my mother pushed me, relieved that I was going to a male friend, I didn’t have to mention that we are both gay and not attracted, even acting as beards to each other to some extent. “I am closeted to my parents, but I still don’t sleep with men.”

Dita just leaves to the bathroom.

She comes back, clutching her wrist, massaging it.

“I’m not attracted to men. I mean, all the thought that they should do romance with the girl to get a shag is wrong. I guess it reminds me that I am straight sometimes.” Dita smiles. “I guess I am fluid sometimes, I think I am until I see the contrast I have with women and when I see how bored other women are and how they seek comfort in other ladies, even platonically just as friends. I think that’s the point, there are no heterosexuals. There are just good liars. I’ve had a bi guy once but he left me for another guy, so yeah. That was good sex, I could actually get near his butthole.” She laughs.

I still don’t understand why women go for men and vice-versa.

I lean back, trying to forget her even if she’s besides me and I still feel the flow of energy over the last exams I had to take, anxiety taking over and my body still aches, energy flowing out of me, I ended up drawing in three sketchbooks before I left anxious about the trip as well and knowing Jamie’s advice, I’ll even be worse when I arrive and so much time will be on my hands, maybe I’ll even fuck every single girl in London since Jamie is doing the same thing with his own gender.

I start tapping patterns on my window, as Dita tries to sleep, when the stewardess go by I sneak a kiss at her lips and start making out as she puts her hands in my hair, everyone is sleeping and the windows are closed, we’re the last seats and maybe the flight attendants are drugged just like in Almodovar. I start making out with her, my hand going down to pull her clit, but the presence of heterosexuals keeps paralyzing me while anxiety keeps telling me to soak my fingers in her cum. 

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