I braced myself for his humiliating words. Looking painfully handsome in a brown distressed t-shirt that fit his chest like a glove, he just stared me down. He must have taken a shower to wash away the awkwardness of our encounter. His hair was wet, making it appear brown instead of blond. Justin turned around and finally noticed me standing there. I stood silently behind him and watched as he put the container back. My heart nearly stopped upon finding Justin standing in the kitchen, drinking out of a half-gallon of orange juice. Brushing the sand off my thighs, I made my way back over to the house. Maybe I could convince him not to say anything. I decided that I needed to get home before Jade did. What excuse could I possibly give him that would explain why I was hiding behind his door, watching him ejaculate like it was a Fourth of July fireworks performance? I knew I couldn’t avoid going home forever. It felt like everything was closing in on me. The sun was starting to go down, and the tide was coming in. I collapsed into the sand and must have sat there for over an hour. It was all hitting me again as I stumbled over to the shoreline and vomited into the ocean. I’d gotten so wrapped up in Justin that I’d forgotten how sick I was this afternoon. At one point, about a mile down the beach, it became necessary to stop and catch my breath, even though I wanted to keep running. Escaping out the front door and down to the water, I continued to run aimlessly on the sand.
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