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“Asher, I didn’t...” He released a heavy sigh, running a hand down his face. “You really love her, huh?”
I looked at the guy, really looked at him. He’d only really migrated into Mya’s group last year, but I’d been around Rex enough times to know the dude had confidence issues.
“Have I ever given you or the gang reason to think I don’t?” My brow arched.
The ‘gang’ was tight. They looked out for each other, hung out a lot, and shared the highs and lows of their emotionally demanding course. And until today, I’d never really questioned my position among them. But in less than a couple of hours, Mya had suggested that I didn’t have to tag along, and now Rex was acting like I didn’t belong.
Not how I saw the beginning of semester going.
As if she heard my thoughts, Mya glanced over at me and mouthed, “You good?”
I nodded, because I wasn’t about to let Rex, or anyone else for that matter, know how I really felt.
Maybe I should have taken Diego up on his offer after all.
Faith took the stage and we all clapped. Aside from Hailee and Felicity, she was Mya’s best friend. Freshman and sophomore year, we had hung out with her and her ex-boyfriend a lot. It had been nice, having another couple on campus to do things with. But Faith and Max had broken up before the end of sophomore year and that was that.
“Hey everyone. I’m Faith and this poem is called Freedom...”
* * *
Freedom is the power to breathe. To live and grow and feel.
Freedom is the power to speak. To think and consider and be.
Freedom is the power to love. To ask and give and hold.
* * *
You told me you loved me, but you hurt me the most. You took all that freedom and stripped it from my soul, leaving me weak and ruined.
You gave me your word, you promised me the world... and then stole it away in the blink of an eye.
* * *
Freedom is the power to change. To realize I’d become who you wanted me to be. Not who I needed to be.
Freedom is the right to say no. To protect my heart and body and soul and refuse to submit.
Freedom is the me saying I’m done... you don’t get to hold all the cards anymore.
* * *
I’m free.
* * *
And you’re no one.
* * *
The room was silent, the pain and passion in Faith’s words rippling in the air, making it thick and heavy. She was Mya’s friend, not mine, but it didn’t take much to figure out she was talking about her ex. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. I knew Max. I’d witnessed them as a couple: saw the way he’d loved her, the way he’d made her laugh. He’d wanted more and she hadn’t. That’s what Faith had told Mya, so the fact she was standing up there, publicly dissecting their relationship, and making him sound like a possessive asshole, left a sour taste in my mouth.
From the earsplitting applause she received, it was apparent no one else agreed with my assessment of her poem.
“Holy. Shit. Girl,” Mya said, “that was awesome.”
“I’ve been feeling inspired.” Her twinkling gaze landed on mine and she narrowed her eyes. But as quickly as it was there, it was gone, as she lapped up the praise from her friends.
