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Shaye

“You haven’t touched your no foam, triple shot, nonfat caramel macchiato with extra drizzle.” My best friend Sloane giggles and then slurps her mocha Frappuccino. “Can you be any more of a pain in the ass when you order?”

“What can I say? I know what I want.” I tap my fingernails against my cup. Truer words have never been spoken.

Shaye wants what Shaye wants even if it’s no good for her. Shaye never learns her lesson. Shaye likes to get kicked in the teeth. Shaye really needs to have her head examined.

Yep, it all equates to Shaye being a glutton for punishment.

“I guess that’s the difference between us. I’m willing to be flexible.” Sloane winks at me and slaps the cover of a biology textbook. “Ugh! I don’t know why I decided to torture myself by taking a winter session class! At least you get to study this boring shit while sunning yourself on South Beach instead of in a Starbucks during the dead of winter. In Jersey, no less.”

I twirl a strand of hot pink hair around my pinkie and page through a notebook, my relationship psychology journal. I flip through the handwritten pages, realizing that I’ve become my own biggest case study. Should make for a pretty damn interesting thesis. Good thing I’ve got plenty of material for it. “It’s too hot to study on the beach. You know I sweat like a beast. The last thing I want to think about is social cognition in psychology while I’m baking in the sun. Besides, there’s a lot of wind. Sand blows all over the place. Trust me, it’s not as glamorous as you think.”

“It sure beats my dorm room at NYU. And any of the cafés down there. I’ll take the sand over the crackerjacks in the Village any day, thank you very much.”

I sip my coffee and pull out a pen. I have my laptop bag, but I find writing to be more cathartic. It connects me more to my feelings since they’re flowing from my fingers directly onto the paper, and I like to watch my handwriting change as the emotions take hold. I can feel my words take on their own meaning, my scribble depicting the fleeting happiness, the ever-present regret, the loss, the pain…God, I must be some kind of masochist.

Forcing myself to dig deep and find what lies within hasn’t really helped me get over Nico. It’s only made me realize that when it comes to him, I am tangled in a jumbled mess of emotions that only constrict me when I try to escape.

The words flow slowly at first, and my hand grips the coffee cup tighter as they pour onto the page. Why can’t I break free of this sick fantasy? What keeps me coming back to Nico? Why do I constantly push other guys away? Talk about mixed signals. I gave myself to him entirely, and he took it all then told me to leave. And even now, two days later, I’m replaying every second of that experience, trying to figure out how things went so far beyond my control.

He called me, and I felt empowered. He ditched me, and I fell apart.

I haven’t pieced myself back together just yet, either. A tiny part of me hopes he’ll be the one to do it.

See? Sick and twisted. I really am a head case. I hope that by majoring in psychology, I’ll be able to fix my head and my heart simultaneously. I slam a hand on the table and close the notebook before stuffing it into my laptop bag. This paper I’m preparing for my upcoming online winter session class will shred my insides by the time it’s completed. At the very least, I’d better get a fucking A on it.

Sloane narrows her eyes at me. “Are you going to tell me what’s up with you? Your shitty mood is hanging over this table, and it’s smothering my good one. If you need to talk, and I suspect you do, let’s get to it so I can finish this freaking assignment.” She folds her hands and rests them on top of her textbook. “It’s Nico, right? You saw him the other night at the funeral. What happened?”

I let out a deep sigh. “Do you have to be so brutally perceptive?”

“I’m your bestie, babe. That’s my job.”

“Sloane, why can’t I just forget about him? He’s so wrong for me, and he’s made it abundantly clear that I am not what he wants. Why am I torturing myself? Why can’t I walk away?”

“Because you love him.” She rests her chin in her hand. “You always did. And I really thought you’d end up together. But Shaye, he can never be what you want. That’s why you went to Miami. You knew it then, and I think you got another dose of the universe telling you it told you so the other night, although you won’t accept that as a final answer.”

“I hate him,” I whisper.

“You don’t hate him, but you need to move on. Lamenting about the past, about the guy he used to be, it isn’t going to bring that person back. He’s created a new life for himself, and it doesn’t include a plus one forever.” She smirks. “Seems like it only has room for a plus one for tonight, you know?”

“I keep hoping things will change and that he’ll—”

“Realize what he’s been missing?” Sloane shakes her head. “Wouldn’t that be nice? Shaye, you need a diversion. I refuse to watch you moon over him for the next three weeks. You stayed at school until Christmas Eve because you didn’t want to run into him, for Christ’s sake! I won’t let you be miserable for the rest of the break. I know plenty of guys who would be more than happy to distract you.” She picks up her iPhone. “Say the word, and I’ll make a call. You need a date for New Year’s Eve anyway.”

I roll my eyes and toss a balled-up napkin at her. “I’m not going to whore myself around now that my cherry’s been popped.”

Sloane’s mouth drops open. “Your what? You slept with him?” she screeches.

I bite down on my lower lip and look around. Thankfully, the café was empty, save for a couple of people in a far corner. “Shh! You’re so loud!”

“Holy crap, Shaye! You give it up to Nico Salesi, and you’re only telling me now? How the hell did it happen? Was he good? Did you cry? Did you get—?”

“Oh my God, stop! It was amazing — all of it. I mean, yeah, it hurt like hell at first, but…” A giggle escapes my lips and despite the rejection looming like a black cloud, I allow myself to get immersed in the delicious sensations he made a reality for me. His strong, muscled torso sliding against me, the thrusting that drove me into the stratosphere multiple times over, the pain that was so harsh and satisfying at the same time, wanting to laugh, scream, and cry all at once…was it worth it? Hell, yes. “It was perfect.” Until he opened his damn mouth and destroyed me. But before that, for those precious fleeting moments, he was mine, and I was his. That spark between us, the one that had always lain dormant, it ignited into a raging inferno when our bodies and souls connected. We were one — connected in every way. His desire coursed through me, his lust permeating my entire being. It was an experience I won’t ever forget…a memory my heart will always cherish, despite the crushing aftermath. That’s why I can’t let go. He detached himself to protect me, but a safe life without him isn’t one I want to live. I welcome the danger, the risk, the uncertainty…I’d happily accept it all if he’s part of the package.

Can you say sicko?

Sloane lets out a slow whistle. “No wonder you’re walking around looking like you’ve just been fucked six ways from Sunday and put out with the trash. It actually happened.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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