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His head swings toward me and I swear, even in the dark I can see the heat of his gaze.
“That would be a hell no,” he says flatly. “Now shut the fuck up and come here.” He tries to pull me back down but I resist.
“Why do you never talk about your dad? About Eve? About any of it?” I question.
“Because I don’t fucking want to. What the fuck, Barlow? What’s with the twenty questions all of a sudden?”
“I just want to know you,” I say defensively.
“You do know me,” he fires back.
“No, I know the you that you let me know.”
“And that’s not good enough? You need to know your fuck buddy’s deepest, darkest secrets, is that it?”
And there it is... The words that solidify exactly what I am to him. The only thing I’ll ever be to him. A fuck buddy and nothing more.
I’m out of bed so fast he can’t even think to try to stop me. By the time he’s slipping into his boxers, I’m already dressed and out the door. I know there’s no way he’ll come after me. He would never risk ruining his friendship with Brennon over afuck buddy. Yet, when I hit the living room, I wait for him to prove me wrong.
I stand there for a long moment, my eyes locked on the hallway, wishing for him to come out, praying that he won’t. I’m so tied up in so many different emotions I’m not sure which one to hone in on. That is, until I hear his bedroom door latch closed.
That stupid mother fucker.
All I wanted was to know more about his family. I know his relationship with his dad is strained but not to the point that talking about it was some kind of cardinal sin. Like, what the fuck?
I stomp to the couch, collapsing on it with so much force it’s a wonder Brennon doesn’t come running out to make sure we’re not being robbed or something. I grab my blanket and ball it at my face as I curl onto my side, having to resist the urge to scream into it.
Fuck buddy.
I don’t know why I’m so pissed that he referred to me this way...
Then again, I know exactly why. I just don’t want to let myself admit it. Because doing so would force me to admit much more than that.
I sink further into the cushions, trying to fight back the tears that well behind my eyes.
You did this to yourself, my inner voice taunts. She’s really good at kicking my ass when I’m down. Though, she’s not wrong.
I did do this to myself.
I went in, eyes wide open, knowing exactly what this was and yet, from the very beginning I found myself holding onto hope that it could be more. That maybe, just maybe, Atlas could see me, and I meanreallysee me. And that once he did, he’d realize that what he’s been looking for all along has been standing right in front of him the whole time.
What a stupid, stupid girl I am.
It’s only seconds before the tears start to fall. Because no matter how tough I pretend to be, I’m still a girl. A girl who desperately wants a boy she will never be able to have. A girl who is hurt. By his words, by his actions, by the knowledge of what I am to him and what I can never be.
And dammit, sometimes you just need to let it out.
So that’s what I do.
I cry.
I cry until my pillow is wet. Until my eyes burn. Until my eyes run dry. And then I make myself a promise. A promise, deep down, I know I can never keep...
Because it’s already too late.
——
“Come on, Barlow.” Atlasleans close. “Talk to me, please.” He keeps his voice low as to not draw the attention of the other students as they filter into communications class.
