2 – Imaginary friend
This man, who looks more like a wardrobe than a human, must be about six-foot-three. Dark green eyes locked on mine, jet-black hair slicked behind his ears. His all-black outfit is a stunning tuxedo, the kind I’d love to strip off with my teeth. Tanned skin that matches those wide shoulders and a dangerously kissable mouth.
“You’re back, my favorite dream,” I say to him.
He doesn’t say a word. Instead, he kneels on the bed and lifts my chin, staring deep into my eyes, not in a sexy way. My favorite dream is judging me.
“Your pupils are way too dilated for my liking, Leonor. What have you been taking?”
His voice is like balm, low, husky, and warm against my ears.
I lean in for a kiss.
My dream gently pushes me back against the pillows, far too gently for someone with hands that big.
“You’re my favorite dream, and you’re going to kiss me to celebrate my birthday,” I say, sulking.
He disappears for two whole years and now that he’s back, he won’t kiss me? Totally unacceptable. I needed an erotic dream to deal with all this stress, not a morality lecture. If I wanted that, I’d have stayed in the living room with my mom.
“When I kiss you, and trust me, I will, I want you stone-cold sober so you remember every second,” he says, his voice and tone hitting me square in the chest.
“You’re my dream, and you have to do what I want. Kiss me now,” I demand, climbing onto his lap.
He lets me straddle him, one leg on either side of his waist.
“What did you take, Eleonor?” he asks, holding my shoulders to stop me from kissing him.
“A special pill. Like you don’t already know that.”
“And how would I know that, sweetheart? I disappear for two years and look what you’ve done. How did you even hide this from your mom?”
“Ugh! I don’t want to talk about my mom! I want to sit on your lap and forget she even exists. Damn mind, always ruining my fun!”
I hop off his lap and head toward the bathroom, hoping for a relaxing soak.
“What are you doing, baby?” he asks, opening the door I just shut, like I actually thought he’d leave.
“What’s the point of fantasizing about a six-foot-three hottie if he’s not going to screw me? You can leave, if that’s how it’s gonna be.”
I peel off my pajamas and socks while he watches every move I make. His eyes betray his serious posture.
“You still think I’m a figment of your imagination, baby? When are you going to realize I’m very real?” he says, stepping closer.
I reach out to touch him, but he only picks up my clothes from the floor.
Seriously, what’s the point of a hot imaginary guy if he acts like a damn babysitter and still won’t screw me?
“What else could you be if not a creation of my mind? Men like you don’t exist. You’re the sum total of all my darkest desires, and probably everyone else’s who likes men. Nature’s not that generous. So yeah, you’re just my fantasy.”
I start filling the bathtub while he watches my every move.
I don’t know where my dream guy stashed my pajamas, but his hands are now in his pockets and he’s got a cocky little smirk.
“You think I’m too perfect to be real? Good to know. But I am real, baby. And you’re going to find that out real soon.”
I slip into the tub as the warm jets fill around me. Deep down, I hope he strips and climbs in with me.
I must hate myself for setting up this level of disappointment, because my imaginary boyfriend is still standing there. Just watching.
“Why don’t you show me you’re real right now and get in this tub with me?” I say, resting my arms on the edge.
“Believe me, baby, I’d love to. But you ruined our moment by getting high. But it’s fine. I waited two years for you to be old enough to be mine. I can wait one more day until you’re sober.”
“You’re so boring. If you weren’t my favorite dream, I’d have kicked you out already,” I mutter, sinking deeper into the water, closing my eyes, hoping he changes his mind.
The bathroom goes silent.
I open my eyes, he’s gone. Just like that.
What a crap birthday. I can’t even have a decent sex dream. If I could’ve just snuck out and met that guy from the beach bar… He’s nowhere near as hot as my dream, but at least he’s real and wouldn’t have said no.
The bath finishes filling, but the mood is gone. I climb out, frustrated. I look for my pajamas, nowhere to be found. Weird.
I grab another set: tank top, shorts, fun socks, this pair has hot dogs, burgers, soda, and fries. My fast-food mood.
I need another special pill. That’s it.
I check the drawer where I hid them. Nothing. I just put them there. Did I drop them?
I pull everything out, even remove the drawer to check behind it. Nothing. Gone.
It had to be Mom. She must’ve finally figured out where I hid them and threw away my fun while I was bathing.
I knew this would happen eventually. God, she’s really going all in on ruining my birthday.
But then… an idea.
I’ve got a secret project. I was going to wait a few days, but maybe tomorrow is the day.
I write it down and stick the note to my mirror: First mission of the day.
I fall asleep like a rock. This time, I dream of my imaginary man, and he doesn’t deny me. He does everything and more.
I wake up glowing.
Just to soothe my guilty conscience, I jump into my mom’s bed and let her wish me a happy birthday. She even had a special breakfast made. We eat together like best friends.
Back in my room, my note’s still on the mirror, waiting.
I remember exactly what it means. And the dream from last night.
I get ready and leave with my mom like the good daughter she wants me to be. We go to the mall, shop, and watch a movie.
Then I wait, until she steps into the fitting room.
Time to disappear.
She has no idea what surprise I’ve planned for her. She’s going to hate it.
And I can’t wait.