Whatever false reality being intimate had just erased for him, it comes flooding right back to him like a storm surge. I can’t help but to hear his words again. That our truth would be revealed through this single act.
Maybe that’s what this is. Our revelation.
I move aside when West slips from underneath me without any kind of comfort, and then storms toward the bathroom. There’s anger in his stride, in those rolling hills of his shoulders and back and, watching him, my chest tightens with grief.
There’s not a question in my mind of whether I’ve made a mistake. Only of the magnitude and lasting impact it will have.
He pauses at the bathroom door but doesn’t turn. For the fraction of a second, that inkling of hope returns, but then it’s snatched away with three little words.
“You should go.”
Then, he disappears around the corner, slamming the door behind him. The sound has me shaken, and I’m frozen in disbelief for a moment.
He wouldn’t just do that. I know we’re screwed up, but … just dismissing me?
But then it registers, and I realize what this was. Just sex. Nothing more than that, and now he wants me gone. Just like he’d demand with any other girl.
It’s pride that draws me to my feet on autopilot, stifling the many emotions beginning to swirl inside me. Through tear-blurred vision, I’m in search of my clothes, knowing that, for my own sanity, I cannot still be here when he gets back.
If I’m going to hold it together, I have to get as far away from him as possible and go right into emotional-damage-control-mode. But before I can even get that far, I’m beating myself up. It starts the second I flee from his suite with my shoes in hand, trying not to hyperventilate as I rush to my own room in an epic walk of shame, fumbling with the key at the door.
How could you be so stupid?
Did you really not see this coming?
You’re so screwed. You’re so broken. You’re officially a slut. At least with Ricky, it meant something. To you. To him.
Damn.
I make it inside and don’t bother with the light. If I have to look at myself in the mirror, I might not be able to pull it together. This is the worst thing I’ve ever done, and there’s no taking it back.
As far as regrets go, it doesn’t get any worse than this.
@QweenPandora: It’s game day tomorrow! Put the drinks down, put the girls out, and rest up! GO, PANTHERS!
Later, peeps!
—P
Chapter 39
BLUE
I’m on autopilot, just moving through this day so I can put it behind me. The only thing I want is for this weekend to be over. Never in a million years did I think I’d miss home, but I do.
I miss it and I’ve spent the entire morning and afternoon so far trying not to cry and even now, I’m sure I look a mess. My eyes sting every time my thoughts slip back to last night, to the contrast of extreme highs and lows. To say that I’m devastated would be a huge understatement. My heart feels broken, but that can’t be right. That would have to mean I’d given it to West at some point and that’s a lie.
Our team pulls out another touchdown and I’m relieved when I look at the time on the scoreboard winding down. We’re up by several points and it’s nearly over. And as for West, this will be his second win in twenty-four hours. The first being tricking me into sleeping with him. All so he could shut down and humiliate me afterward.
I’m an idiot.
So stupid.
I shove the thoughts aside and just keep taking pics. Several carloads of CPA students drove up for the big game, so this small section of the stadium is filled with familiar-ish faces. I’m posted a couple rows behind the dance squad, doing my best to forget everyone exists.
As soon as the game ends, I’ll go to my room to pack, and then the last storm I’ll have to weather will be the bus ride home in the morning. If I can avoid West completely, it’ll be fine.
At least that’s what I keep telling myself.
Dane scores big, narrowly avoiding a nasty tackle from two of the biggest seniors I’ve seen in my life, but he’s too quick and makes it into the endzone. The entire crowd goes wild, but no one’s as ecstatic as Joss. I think back on the few times I’ve noticed how she and Dane are together and I fight the jealousy that creeps in. There’s an ease to what they have—even if it is only friendship—but I’m almost certain it’s something I’ll never experience.
With anyone.
Two girls from the dance squad turn and zero in on me just as my gaze slips from Joss. Their eyes are wide, and one has her hand clamped over her mouth, but she quickly averts her attention upon realizing she hasn’t been as discreet as she first thought.
A loud cackle from the other end of the bleachers gets ignored because I’m focused on getting a shot of the ball in midair after West snaps it, but then, all of a sudden, the air is abuzz with a symphony of phone notifications. Even my own is vibrating in my pocket.
“Is that her?”
“Oh my God!”
The chatter around me picks up volume, but I’m still mostly numb to it, still focusing on getting this job done so I can curl up in the hotel room bed and pretend I’m invisible.
Right now, that sounds like heaven.
I snap another photo—intentionally avoiding West’s face—and glance at the scoreboard. Only a couple minutes left in the quarter and it’s a guaranteed win. Not that I care at all about that.
“Well somebody just got famous
