Placing the papers in front of me, I read the first paragraph. Then again. Nope. It’s not going in. All I can think about is how badly I fucked everything up between me and Zach. When he told me he was busy tonight, I could see it in his face. He was holding back a wince, braced for a reaction. He’s worried I might break again.
And the worst part? He might be right.
Between the constant unknown texts, the glares of people around college and the office, I don’t feel like there’s anywhere I can land. Even Zach’s house doesn’t feel as safe as it once did. I just know he’s waiting for the next explosion, and I hate that’s what I’ve become.
He showed me his plan to get a honeycomb tattoo and all I could think was “Don’t do it.”I don’t deserve to be permanently inked onto his skin like that. I’m a useless waste of space that’s only going to bring him down with me.
I bite my bottom lip, holding back my tears.
When did I become someone who needs constant reassurance and can’t handle her own life without falling to pieces?
I guess it all started in high school, and I’ve been spiraling in slow motion ever since.
Shaking my head, I force my gaze down to the papers. I don’t have time to think about how broken I’ve become. I need to focus on this.
Another paragraph barely read.
She’s just a consolation prize. Isn’t she embarrassed?
As if I didn’t have enough to worry about. Jonathan Nicks’ comments seep through every time I try to read these stupid papers.
I wipe a tear from the paper as I try to read the next sentence, but it’s not working.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
When my phone goes off next to me, I quickly check it, thankful for the reprieve from my thoughts.
Chris:Movie night at the hockey house tonight. You guys should come hang out with us. Nothing fancy, just pizza.
Chris: @HoneyZach’s more than welcome to come.
Chris:@JenniYou can bring that guy you were talking about this morning.
Chris. Yet another relationship I tried to sabotage over this last week. Thankfully, he has a way of making things feel normal even when everything else inside me feels wrong. After our conversation the other day, I was worried things would get awkward between us, but he’s still inviting me to the rink, attending our study sessions like nothing happened and isn’t treating me like I’m made of glass.
Unlike everyone else in my life right now.
I don’t know what Zach said to Olivia, but clearly it was enough to convince her to come out for the weekend to celebrate my birthday.
“Fuck it,” I whisper to myself, pushing back my desk chair so hard it scrapes against the hardwood floor.
I can’t remember the last time I just hung out with friends without over-thinking every single interaction. The hockey guys give no shits about football. They just see me as one of their friends, and that’s what I need.
I need this. I need to get out of this room, out of my own head, and to prove to myself that I don’t need Zach to function. Hell, Zach wouldwantme to.
I text back quickly:
Honey:Zach’s busy tonight, but I’m game. What time?
Chris: Seven-ish? Fair warning: Chase will try to monopolize the remote, but he’s easily distracted by popcorn.
Honey: I’ll make sure to get some on the way. What’s his favorite flavor?
Chris: Dill pickle… I know. Don’t judge me for my brother’s taste buds.
Honey: I would never. I’ll get some other flavors too.
Jenni: Would’ve loved to come but I’ve got a date with said guy.