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“He’s an attention whore,” he says, unlocking the door as we follow him. “He’s a decent player but too damn needy.”
He has no idea.
I say goodnight to them as I walk to my room, my lips pursed as I think back to our exchange of words at the locker room. There was a lot of pain in Ciaran’s eyes as he talked about his parents, but I’m not a punching bag. He and his friends have caused me a lot of grief in the short time that I’ve been here.
It’s exhausting and I have to say that I am enjoying the time away from them. The shitty part is that the universe constantly throws me back into their orbit. I’m kind of sick of it.
Hopefully, school will pick up for them and they’ll be too busy with senior activities to care about me.
In the last period, I ended up near a man who was wearing a quarter zip and a pair of khakis, taking furious notes as he watched the game. I found he was a scout from Colorado who had made the trip out to California.
I also learned that he had his eye on Ciaran. I’d like to want the worst for the Devils but they have hopes and dreams just like everyone else. It’s confusing to want them to achieve them while they’re trying to destroy mine.
Dragging my tired body to the bathroom, I cut the tiny hair ties carefully out of my hair before putting the sharp scissors out of sight. It’s far too easy to allow the intrusive thoughts to win if they’re in easy access. Pulling off my clothes, I go through my shower routine before brushing my teeth now dressed in fuzzy pajamas.
Liliana surprised me with them yesterday, and they have little llamas on them. She left them on my bed with a note that said, “don’t let the drama llamas get you down, mija.”
It was very cute, and there’s a pretty gray robe to go with it. Tying the belt around my waist loosely, I hunt for my notebook. I’ve always been someone who journals, but it’s been a while since I’ve done it. Now that I think about it, I can accept it’s always been a way to help me remember things.
My memories have a way of slipping through my fingers like sand. Even when I clench my fist around it, it still manages to slip away.
Grimacing at that thought, I write down what happened today, and then move on to the first time I had sex with the Devils. I don’t want to forget my first real time having sex with guys my own age. I hope this doesn’t sound dramatic, but my life typically involves some kind of trauma.
Even though they forced themselves on me, I still can’t forget how my body responded. It was the same with Alastair too, where we made a mess of the poor teacher’s desk. I decide to end my entry like this:
Hey Diary,
I feel dumb writing about guys when there’s so many other things in my life. They piss me off and make me confused. I did try to defend myself against Ciaran, but it was half hearted. I don’t want to hurt people, despite how angry they make me.
I love living with my family in Santa Barbara, but it’s difficult to always worry I’ll run into them. I really enjoyed the movie tonight, and love that it was far enough away that I wouldn’t recognize anyone.
A part of me hoped to be able to do the normal parts of senior year like dances or even making friends, however I think I’m built to be a loner.
It’s safer to live in my bubble, without the stress of wondering who is really on my side or is simply using me.
Do the Devils have to deal with this? As much as Ciaran seems to think my life is all roses, it’s not. There are boogeymen at every turn, and only some of them live inside my head.
Perception is everything, I guess.
Closing my notebook, I pull out the bottom drawer of my nightstand and blow out a breath.
Time to put on my big girl pants. Elijah told me that there should be a voice mail if there was something important that the doctor needed to tell me. Unlocking my phone, I click on the phone icon of my screen and see there’s a voicemail waiting for me.
Fuck.
“This message is for Noor Agassi. Please contact us at your earlier convenience. There is something we need to discuss with you about your urine sample.”
I don’t even need to listen to it because the transcript pops up immediately. I’ve never had a phone this fancy before, and it’s both a great thing as well as a nightmare.
I suppose I’ll need to call back at some point. I’ll file it under the million things I’ve been avoiding. Plugging in my phone, I turn out the light and dive under the covers.
This is all a problem for future me. The ‘now me’ is headed to dreamland.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWO WEEKS LATER
