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I don’t trust myself sometimes.
I used to tell myself that I had to stay strong. For what reason, I still don’t know. The weak voice inside of my head assures me that I have so much to live for: my students, my family, Jack and the future he has mapped out for us. But I’m so tired.
Lying wears you out. Living a false life, presenting some persona to the world that’s practiced and phony? It feels like struggling against the current in chest-deep water every damn day.
It’s a bone-weary kind of tired, and it’s enough to pull you under if you let it.
Chapter Two
Fifteen Years Ago…
Grace
Mr. Brightsideis blaring over the speakers, so I have to ask him to repeat himself when he says, “You’re popular.”
“What?”
“I said,” he leans in, “you’re popular. I’ve been trying to talk to you for the past hour, but some guy always cuts in right before I can get to you.”
He points to his ear and then gestures to move away from the speakers, and for some reason I follow. My roommates abandoned me a while ago, left me to fend off the last two guys who offered to buy me drinks in a way that left me feeling borderline harassed, so I don’t feel the need to check in with them now.
We’re down at the other end of the bar now, and while it’s never quiet in this off-campus dive, we don’t have to scream over the music to be heard back here.
“What’s your name?”
“What’s yours?” I shoot back, feeling uncharacteristically ballsy.
He smiles and shakes his head. “Damien.”
“Like the kid in the movie?”
“Oh, I don’t get that one too often,” he deadpans. “Have you seen it?”
“Before my time.”
“Then take my word for it, it’s disturbing. I’m named after my uncle, otherwise I’d ask what my parents were thinking.”
“It’s actually a nice name. It suits you.”
“I look devilish?”
I reach up to touch the dimple on his left cheek. “Maybe a little. But I mean it, Damien is a nice name.”
“So?”
I don’t even know this person, and I usually get all stiff and uncomfortable when unfamiliar guys approach me, but for some reason I can’t help but smile when I answer, “Grace.”
“That’s a beautiful name.” He looks genuine when he repeats my words back to me, “It suits you.”
I look behind me to see what’s causing all the commotion, and figure that the team everyone is rooting for must have scored or won or something. I have to get up on my tip toes so he can hear me when I say, “I’ve never seen you here before.”
“I’ve never been here before so that makes sense.”
“You’re a comedian, huh?”
He shakes his head. “No, ma’am. Never been accused of being the slightest bit funny.” He leans in to be heard above the noise when a group of guys start cheering again. “I’m just thanking my lucky stars that you’re even talking to me right now. I watched you turn down one guy after another before. Thought maybe I was just lining up for a smack down.”
I’ve been told that I come off like a cold fish on more than one occasion.What, you’re too good to talk to me?Or the words that cut like barbed wire tonight:Just asked if you wanted a drink, didn’t ask for your hand in marriage, bitch.
