A.N: not sure if anyone even remembers this, but I wrote this around May, only for it to be taken down due to the tense that I used. I meant to put it back up, but never got to it till now. I miss writing for this fandom and I really like the idea of this piece, so I'll gradually add more to it. Hope you enjoy, reviews are always appreciated.


I always make sure to add a new quarter to the jar that I keep hidden in my dresser drawer. I'm the only one that knows what each quarter represents, while anyone else would just assume that I'm saving up loose change or whatever.

Oh, if only.

I feel as if I should feel proud when I see the half full glass jar of quarters, just sitting in the bottom drawer. It only took a little less than a month to get it to the halfway mark that it is at now.

But what is there to feel proud about?

Each quarter is from a different girl that I have had a meaningless night in bed with. They would always look at me funny when I would ask if they had a quarter to spare...but they'd give it anyway, if they had one that is. On the off moment when a girl had no quarter, I would ask for a dime—whatever loose change they had on them. They always have at least a cent to give, and I keep each one securely in the jar.

I'm afraid to actually dump the contents of the jar onto a table and just count them individually. Knowing how many girls I've slept with just seems so...overwhelming, so wrong.

It's always at a party, where I pick up some random girl. Sometimes they go to my school, but most of the time I make sure that they don't. It's not like they'd say anything to me at school, it's just the guilt of sleeping with someone that I don't want to have to see just about everyday.

I keep telling myself that I shouldn't feel guilty.

It's not like I'm in a relationship or put something in a girl's drink to get her to go upstairs with me. The girls that I pick are always more than willing, they usually know about me and my...condition.

It was only a few days ago where I noticed that each girl that I sleep with has most likely broken up with their boyfriend. It's always a girl that is just doing...well something, for attention. Whether it be the skimpy clothes that she's wearing or the way she dances, they always just scream,

Tell me I'm pretty—that you want me.

And they are. God, how pretty the girls always are...I make sure to tell them so, too. Not because it's like I should feel obligated to do so, in fear of her not giving me head or letting me penetrate her. I just want to reassure the girl that whoever hurt her, was an idiot and that she could do so much better...better than a meaningless night with me, but I never tell them the last part.
I may not be all that much better than the guy that cheated or was just a complete asshole, but at least I help girls forget.

Every girl deserves to be told that they are pretty, even under a messed up circumstance.

I never force myself onto a girl. No, just— no. I treat them how they would want to be treated during sex...in a way that is. It's not like I have romantic feelings towards them and really, I'm just trying to get off.

Yeah, the whole process is very confusing...and alcohol really doesn't help, either.
But I just can't stop it though. Technically I'm taking advantage of girls, right? Obviously if they weren't drunk and in a state of vulnerability, they wouldn't be so eager to let me pull them into an unoccupied bedroom…right?

The void in my heart lessens each time I close a bedroom door behind me and hungrily kiss a new girl on the lips, but when it's all over, All I'm left with is that feeling of emptiness again, the feeling of messing up yet another girl.

And that mocking sound of a new quarter being deposited into the jar.


The other night, I met this girl named Heather, Heather Fox. The resemblance she and Jade have—it's almost scary.

Heather and I didn't have sex...but we did make out in a spare bedroom, if that counts?
I think that it's wrong, to kiss a girl that looks like the girl who makes me have all of these weird feelings...feelings that I shouldn't have because not only is she in a relationship with a guy, she's in a relationship with my best friend.

I most likely broke some sort of friendship code by making out with the Jade look-alike. They may be two different people, but I only see one when I look into those captivating blue eyes.

There is something seriously wrong with me, but I already knew that.


So apparently, Heather really likes me.

She went to my school a few months back, in hope of recruiting some talented makeup students to do the makeup for some of the student models that were doing a photo shoot at her school, so they could add the photos to their portfolios.

She said that she saw me performing a song for my song writing class and the next thing she knew, she wanted to introduce herself.

But unlike Jade, she's quite timid with strangers. Unlike Jade, she'll stutter a bit in her sentences...but speak with such charisma when needed.
If someone were to ask me to list the differences between Heather and Jade, I'd have them down on paper in a heartbeat.


It's not that I don't like Heather… She's a sweet girl, too sweet if possible...but really what am I even doing? Holding Heather's hand—giving her hope for something that I know that I can never give her.

Heather isn't like all the other girls that I've slept with, especially since we aren't even having sex, we just hold hands.

It's a bittersweet type of feeling.

I make sure to tell her how pretty she is and how I think that she'd make a great model when she's older.

I always make sure to ask for a quarter after our little 'dates' or whatever it is that the two of us are sharing.


Heather really likes to make-out in public.

It's not that I don't like making out with her, it's actually quite amusing when the two of us are making-out in a public park and an elderly couple will rudely comment about how 'indecent' kinds are now a'days.

Heather isn't a bad kisser, either. She likes to sit right on my lap and wrap her arms around my neck, while giving me teasing pecks to the lips.

Heather likes the act of exhibitionism, apparently. We've been hanging out a lot lately, but haven't had sex just yet—unless dry humping counts...but when the two of us are in a public place with a few people, Heather enjoys flashing me. She must get turned on by it or something, because the next thing I know she's on my lap, nipping at my neck, for all to see.

She's just a huge tease, but she proves that there is no such thing as complete innocence.


I have two glass jars in front of me.

One is the almost full jar of quarters from all of my meaningless one-night stands, while the other jar which isn't even halfway full yet, is from the time that I had spent with Heather.

There is another quarter from Heather pressed tightly in the palm of my left hand. I look from the jar on the left, to the jar on the right.

I place the quarter in the jar on the left.


I did the right thing, telling Heather that the two of us shouldn't hang out anymore. She was slowly crossing the line...the line where feelings actually count. I can't do that to her, I can't let her fall in love with me, only to tell her that I can't love her back.

Yet I could have sex with her, and feel nothing afterwards.

It's getting that much easier to not feel, and it's scaring the shit out of me.


Beck is whispering sweet nothings into Jade's ear today. She has the beautiful smile on her face right now, the smile that rarely ever graces her face.

I just want to make her smile...but I can't do that, not when she's dating Beck.