Universal: Chapter 3
The night after I went to Universal, I think I was in shock. I kept thinking about what had happened and didn’t recognize myself in the scenario. What kind of a nut job gives her very first blow job to an almost-stranger in an amusement park? A trashy one, that’s what kind. I was a trashy girl. I was both mortified and slightly thrilled about that.
I was always teased in school for being so straight-laced. I didn’t even kiss a boy until I was a senior in high school, and it wasn’t until I’d moved to L.A. and met Bill that I’d lost my virginity—much later than all of my girlfriends. I had started to wonder if there was something wrong with me.
Being with Bill was fine up until I caught him cheating on me. At least I was smart enough to end it after that. I’d had a few customers at the restaurant hit on me at work, but really, no one ever seriously asked me out, and it wasn’t until I met Eric that I realized just what I was missing.
I was doing pretty well about Eric until that day—the day. After that, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I couldn’t stop feeling lustful every time I recalled what had happened, and I wanted more. I felt like I was finally becoming a woman—a sexual woman—and I wanted to do that with Eric.
I began to fantasize that Eric would call me and ask me out on a date. We’d go to dinner or a movie and he’d hold my hand and all night we’d look forward to the kiss at the end of the date, and then maybe there would even be more.
But then, I’d remind myself that Eric was a big deal—the director of the show at Knott’s and probably had his pick of beautiful women, and why would he want to be with someone like me? I was quite certain he had noticed my lack of skill behind the Terminator building. I clearly didn’t know what I was doing, and I was sure he was with very sophisticated women of the world who knew exactly what they were doing.
Three very long days after the day, my phone rang and it was Eric. When I saw the number, my heart leapt in my chest and my mouth went dry. I sat down on my sofa so I wouldn’t fall down, as I suddenly no longer trusted my knees.
“Hello?” I tried to sound normal, but probably failed.
“Hi, Sookie. It’s Eric.”
“Oh, hi! How are you?”
“Fine, and you?”
“I’m good.” Now that you’ve called. “How’s the show going?”
“Oh, great. The show’s great.” He sounded distracted, like he wanted to get to something—maybe he was going to ask me out? “Listen, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind if I asked you something.”
Here it is! My hands were shaking. “No, not at all.”
“How, exactly, did you get the job at Knott’s?”
Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting that question. “Oh … um …a customer of mine is an executive there and he got me the job.”
“And had you ever done wardrobe before?”
“So, you asked this ‘customer’ for a job?”
The way he said “customer” sounded like he didn’t like the man. “No. He’s the one who told me about it. I didn’t ask him for anything. I guess he liked the service he got and wanted to show his gratitude.”
“Right. I got it.”
“I really enjoyed the job. I’m hoping to get more work like that.”
“Yeah, I got that too.”
He sounded kind of sour and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. “Is everything okay, Eric?”
“Yeah … yeah, it’s fine. I guess I just misunderstood something.”
“What do you mean?”
He took a deep breath and sighed into the phone. “Nothing. I don’t mean a thing. Listen, I’ve got to run. I guess I’ll see you around.”
He hung up before I had a chance to say goodbye.
I sat and stared at the phone for a few minutes. What on earth had just happened? “I’ll see you around” didn’t sound very promising. He seemed … I don’t know … disappointed at how I’d gotten the job at Knott’s. Had I done something wrong?
I debated about calling him back and asking what was going on, but felt like he was kind of mad. Well, not mad exactly, just kind of resigned about something. About something he misunderstood about my job at Knott’s. It made no sense to me, but the bottom line was he wasn’t asking me out. There would be no movie date or hand holding or goodnight kissing.
Suddenly, I didn’t want to see Eric Northman again because I was humiliated and embarrassed about my behavior at Universal. I must have been out of my mind. Gran always said, “if you act like a whore, you get treated like one,” and it seemed she was right. As usual.
My behavior was not leading to any kind of romance. It was just something I wished had never happened. Hopefully, I would not be “seeing Eric around.”
I made a vow to behave myself no matter how many handsome, sexy men entered my life. It was a painful lesson, but then I guess it could have been worse. Of course, at that moment, it dawned on me that I’d had unprotected, risky sex with a virtual stranger and my self-loathing became even greater.
I made an appointment with my doctor and cried myself to sleep that night, wishing I’d never met Eric Northman.