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I didn’t know why I was watching it. It just somehow made me feel closer to Kettle. That, and maybe I was torturing myself.
I shouldn’t have read the letter after realizing what it was. I knew within the first three lines that I shouldn’t be reading it, but I was so horrified that I kept reading until the end of the page, not stopping to think until I’d finished it.
Paul had invited Viddy to his parents’ house for Christmas Eve-Eve, and accepted, even though he’d refused to let me come. Not that I would’ve gone anyway. I was too deep in my wallowing to think of anybody but myself right then. Oh, and I was in Florida, nearly ten hours away.
“Called a cab,” she murmured.
I rolled my eyes. Of course she called a cab. Paul was a world-class prick. What else did I expect? He wouldn’t come pick her up. It was Christmas Eve-Eve, and Paul was busy. Why would anybody expect him to go pick up his blind girlfriend for their first Christmas with his parents?
I couldn’t stop the snort of amusement. “Your boys a real winner.”
“Yeah?” Viddy asked. “Well yours is a real winner, too. Who kicks his girlfriend out of his house in the middle of the night when he knows she has nowhere else to go?”
“He was upset.” I said lamely.
“Whatever,” she said. “Listen, I’ve got to go. I’m here. Wish me luck.”
“I love you, Viddy. Merry Christmas. Good luck.” I said before hanging up, and then curling up on my side for a good cry.
I told myself I was crying so much because of my period. In reality, I was feeling sorry for myself.
He’d tried to call me within an hour of me leaving and to apologize, and I’d sent him a reply text to fuck off. He’d then told me to calm down, and it went downhill from there.
Now I was in a hotel room in Florida, spending Christmas by myself, eating three different flavors of popcorn and watching my new favorite show.
Oh, and ignoring Kettle’s calls.
I was doing that very well.
In fact, I’d left my phone charger, and had nothing left but the room phone, which had worked out well in my favor since my sister told me that he’d attempted to track my phone, but had come to a dead end somewhere in Alabama where my phone had died.
Once withdrawing three grand from my 401K, I took it and drove to Florida, paying in cash for a weeks’ worth of groceries and a hotel room that overlooked the beach.
Lucky for me it was the holiday season and it was discounted greatly. Otherwise, I would’ve had to settle for the crappy place across the street that didn’t have an ocean front view and no cable internet.
My room phone rang, and I picked it up with annoyance.
“What do you want? Jesus, I told you I’m fine!” I growled to my sister.
The same sister who’d called me five times in the past four hours to make sure I wasn’t hanging myself from the hotel shower stall or trying weed for the first time.
“Really? Well I’m not. Let me in.” Kettle growled from the other end of the line.
I slammed the phone down in the cradle and glared at it before deciding the best course of action was to take a shower and ignore him until he went the hell away.
Glancing at the lock to ensure it was properly placed, I started stripping out of the short shorts and tank top I’d bought at Wal-Mart earlier that morning on my popcorn run.
I smiled when I saw the bathroom, thinking that when I finally had enough money, I was definitely going to be buying a showerhead like this one.
After I paid back my 401K loan, and got a new apartment. And new clothes. And shoes. And food.
Damn, but I was broke. I still had student loan debt to pay off, and I really shouldn’t have come to Florida. I was mad though; that’s my only excuse.
Yanking my hair out of the messy bun on the top of my head, I stepped into the shower and directly under the heated spray.
The water felt divine as it flowed over my face and head, before cascading down my body in rivulets.
Reaching my arms up, I started to lather the water through my thick hair, sighing in pleasure.
