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I nearly forgot about Christmas, and I did forget New Year’s Day when it eventually rolled around. The only reason I didn’t forget the former was because my mom and stepdad texted that day. Mom texted Merry Christmas and hoped I wasn’t working too hard. She and Anton also sent lenses to my dorm. Brand-new ones for Christmas.
I opened them by myself that day, my tree a bookshelf. At least, I celebrated that day. On New Year’s Eve and Day, I just slept because in sleep, I didn’t have to think about anything. I could just rest in a dream world where things didn’t have to make sense, and I could be at peace.
Wolf: I’m at the party.
Wolf: It’s storming, and I needed to make sure you’re okay.
Wolf: Please answer if you can. I just want to help.
Wolf’s texts eventually did come. I wasn’t sure when I’d gotten them, but I read them long after he’d sent them.
I deleted them just as fast.
His brother was the only one to hear from me after I got home outside of my mom and stepdad. I was still worried about him and wanted to make sure he was okay.
Me: I got home fine. Hope you’re okay. I’ll call when I can.
Bru: Good. Glad to hear it. And I could be better, but I think I’m headed toward there. I’ll tell you all about it when I talk to you next. I’ll be waiting on your call, but no rush. You take care of you.
Me: You too.
I’d like to say that call came quick to my friend, but it didn’t. I’d like to say I didn’t hermit and left my dorm, but I only left to get my books for spring classes and food. I literally stayed in my hole and didn’t leave until it was time to go back into the world. My college friends thought I’d died, and that was what they joked about the first week of classes when they did finally come. Nearly all had sent me texts wishing me happy holidays, but I hadn’t responded. I fucked up and closed in on myself. I wallowed in self-pity, and once again, let someone into my head.
I’m at the party.
It’s storming, and I needed to make sure you’re okay.
Please answer if you can. I just want to help.
It didn’t matter that I’d deleted Wolf’s texts because they reserved permanent space in my head. They lived there rent-free just like the other shit he did, said.
I need you with everything in me.
I hated him for saying that. I hated him for breaking my heart, then doing it again with his confession. I hated even more that there was a time I needed him and still felt that need deep in my soul. I hated him for making me hate him.
And I hated me for loving him.
There were times in my life where I felt deep anger, but what Ares Mallick had put me through in the past few months challenged some of my worst. He made ugly appear inside of me. It latched on to my soul and did make me hateful. Angry.
I remember the day I first saw him on my bus route. It was the first week of classes, and I noticed because, well, everyone noticed. Ares Mallick was on my bus route.
Ares Mallick was riding the bus.
I froze at the top of the steps when I saw him. He was sitting there, right in the front, but he didn’t look at me. He had his earbuds in, his head down while he wrote in a notebook. In fact, he was so engrossed in the task that he didn’t notice me when I basically rushed past him. I was completely out of breath by the time I got to the back of the bus, and I must have been holding my breath because I was dizzy when I sat down.
Why is he here?
That’d been my thought because Ares didn’t ride the bus. I knew that for a fact because he had a nice-ass Hummer he’d all but tried to shove me into before he’d found out I didn’t do cars or even trucks.
I stirred in my seat after I saw him, hunkered down, and though Ares glanced up after I passed him, he didn’t turn. He just eyed the space I’d passed beside him. Like he was observing nothing but the air before going back to whatever he was doing in his notebook. I knew that too because he put his head down, his attention redirected.
I watched him like a hawk that day and continued until he finally got to his stop and left the bus. He’d gathered his stuff, tugged his hoodie’s hood up, then exited. He left.
That was the first day.
The second he was wearing a hat. It was on backward, and his rogue curls pushed out of the front. He was facing the aisle, and he took up so much of the bus seat I had no idea how he’d folded himself in. He’d managed, though, his head back to the window and his foot on the seat. He appeared to be sleeping this time, but his head was rocking like he was listening to music. He also had his earbuds in again, so that was a possibility.
Gratefully, I didn’t have to pass him that time. He was in one of the very last seats at the back of the bus, so I took the first one, hoping and praying he didn’t see me.
