Trapped In-between.

Rejected by all.

Sandy woke up in a strange bed, her head throbbing loudly and threatening to explode into a million pieces. She scrubbed her forehead to minimize the pain she felt. When she felt that she would survive, she climbed out of the bed. She winced as she felt a dull pain between her legs. Just what the hell had she been up to?

She stretched lazily to relieve some nerves. She was halfway through the task when her eyes fell on her ball dress and the black lacy pants she wore underneath the dress, and she froze. Her head jerked down to her body and she died a million deaths. No, it wasn’t from the pain she got from her headache. It was from seeing herself stark naked.

What the freaking hell?!

She quickly grabbed the duvet on the bed and wrapped herself securely in it. When she was sure that no part of her body was exposed, she looked around for any sign that any living thing was with her but she found none.

“Who brought me here?” She asked herself.

From the soreness between her legs, she knew that she had given her virginity to the man. Her heart sank and she felt the blood rushing through every part of her system. Along with it came the tears. She couldn’t believe that she had given the same gift she had been keeping for the right man to a stranger. A total stranger she didn’t even remember what he looked like.

Or maybe she did know who he was.

She blinked several times as her memory came back in bits. From running away from her best friend’s wedding reception to her getting into a bar and accidentally meeting Mateo Andrea, another man who was madly in love with Eleanor, to them sharing woes. Her, throwing herself at the man. Mateo kissing her. Mateo lying over her. Mateo sucking her n*****s, squeezing her breasts. The pain that had her screaming and how she kept moaning like the slut Matt had accused her of being.

“God! No, no! Not to a man that has interest in another woman already.” She sobbed. True, she had offered herself to Matt also, but she somehow suspected that he wasn’t head over heels in love with Eleanor as he believed himself to be. She was sure that apart from his ego that was bruised, his heart suffered no other loss. And she liked the man, so she thought of shooting her shoot.

“Matt, I hate you!” She screamed and immediately regretted the action as her head bounced back in revolt.

It was his fault. If he hadn’t treated her like a plague, she wouldn’t have gotten drunk and pushed herself to the French man. Now, what the f**k was he going to look at her and not remember her wanton behavior? What light was he supposed to view her in? In fact, will she ever be able to look him in the eyes again?

That is if he ever wants to stay in the same room with her. He made that decision clear when he disappeared on her before she woke up. It was a clear message that said: don’t ever show me your face again, slut.

Damn! If she looked at it technically, she just got rejected by two men within the space of 24 hours.

“I think I’ll die of mortification.” She coiled herself back into the bed, got under the sheets, wrapped it up until she was no longer visible, and hoped she could hide away from herself and the world at large.