Maple’s Story (Part 1)
Maple’s Story (Part 1)
I’d always lived in my sister’s shadow, despite she was the younger one. She was smarter, prettier and skinnier than me. Over the years I’d grown to accept my looks, and my love for food genuinely couldn’t be helped.
Instead I studied hard to get into University, despite it took me a couple of attempts, just so my family could be proud of me. And once I was there, I did my best to keep my grades up.
This was whilst I was digging around for husband material… Or should I say father material since I wasn’t big on the whole marriage thing. It’s not like I needed a man for that kind of support.
The drunken ones were the easiest of prey.
Unfortunately, even the least appealing seemed to reject my advances, as if they somehow sensed or knew about my intentions.Sometimes I got lucky, but they were the sorts who were only after a one night stand, not a friend with benefits type deal.
‘You’ll find someone eventually,’ an optimistic voice I was growing to love and despise at the same time, constantly reminded me whenever I was experiencing my lowest of lows. Cory Minton had kind of just been there since my first night of Uni. He wasn’t even my roommate, nor were we on the same course, we’d just ended up mingling with the same crowd of people. Funnily enough, he was right with the whole finding someone thing… sort of.
It was the usual scenario; the guy in question was too drunk to stand on his feet, so I had led him into my dorm room, offering him the comfort of my lovely warm bed. This was usually just a euphemism for something else entirely, but since it was Cory, I was honestly trying to help him to safely sober up. He was genuinely a good friend, and not someone I had really planned on sleeping with.
‘You’re really drunk, aren’t you?’ I sighed, when he refused to help me navigate him onto my bed. Instead he rooted himself by my desk, gazing at some stills I had taken earlier that week for a student film project I was involved with.
‘You’re so talented, Mape,’ Cory slurred, pawing through the photos on my desk, ‘I wish I could draw like you.’
‘You’re really drunk,’ I laughed. Besides the obvious factor I hadn’t drawn anything, Cory hated art and everything it stood for.
In protest, Cory shook his head thoroughly, instantly regretting his action as he swayed and lost his balance. Instantly, my arm reached out and landed on his waist to steady him. After that, my face was probably a bit closer to him than usual, and he was staring at me with his wide puppy dog eyes.
Realising I’d probably never get a chance to sleep with someone as adorable as him, and that I didn’t want anyone else to do it, I dove straight in for the kill.
Poor lad must have been really inebriated because, just seconds later, he was kissing me back, hands sliding down my waist, hoisting up my dress. As we tumbled onto the bed, he muttered something about wanting this for a while, in all honesty by that stage my mind had stopped functioning long enough for me not to care that this would be something I’d regret in the morning.
And boy, did I.
Ha! Maple’s a real mix of stereotypes, isn’t she?