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So much for two.
So much for relaxation.
Now all I can do at the airport is pull a Kevin from Home Alone—and run.
I don’t even know where I’m going, all I know is that it hurts, I feel stupid, ashamed… I feel completely blindsided, and yet I still feel in love, the only question?
Which girl is it?
Fuck if I know.
Hi, my name is Quinn and I’m currently sitting in a plane headed back home writing out my thoughts and feelings about a situation I had zero control over.
I’m writing so my heart stops breaking.
I’m writing in hope that one day that will be true.
And I’m writing because PS… I love you.
Chapter One
Quinn
Two Weeks Earlier
“I hate heights, I hate heights, I hate heights.” I don’t know how many times I actually repeat this to myself while standing on the top of the platform looking down into certain death but, I mean even if I say it a million times I know it wouldn’t make the actual distance any lesser.
Lesser? Oh wait… yes, that’s a word, right?
Panic ensues, while my best friend Ambrose urges me toward the ledge. “Just jump, bro! You’re safe!”
The devil is a liar. I am strapped in with some sort of random ropes, a harness that is sucking my balls for dear life—and not in a happy way—and sure, yeah, I am totally safe. I feel safe. I mean, at least at this point my balls will stay attached to my body, so if I ever want to reproduce, we’d at least get to save those when aliens take over the world and need spawns.
“There could be alligators!” I yell. “Piranhas! You don’t even know what shit could be down there. Just last year they found a flesh-eating coyote!”
He frowns, his dark brows furrowing, his light brown hair blowing carelessly in the wind like for real mocking my pain underneath his black beanie while his perfect girlfriend stands beside him with another perfect smile on her face.
God, she even has a dimple on the right-hand side just touching her perfect little cheek and jawbone, and what the hell? Did I say jawbone? In my head? There is nothing romantic about that word and yet, I think I nearly sighed like a simp.
Why me?
Why did I have to fall for the one girl that chose him and why did she have to give me one small taste of her before letting me know that no, my name in fact was not the one that was going to fall from her lips in complete abandon.
It will always be Ambrose.
I will always be second to him in her eyes, and the real shit part is that I can’t even be pissed about it because at the end of the day I love them both too much to say anything and way too much to make it weird. I mean, long story short, it already got weird that one time we all kissed and had a near threesome. I’d like to say, oh yeah, we were wasted.
Totally sober.
And now I’m on another “ledge” inevitably waiting to jump off bungee style, not how I thought my gap year was going to start, or you know, like, possibly end by way of death. “Okay, I’m going.”
“That’s what she said.” Ambrose jokes.
“How old are you, boomer?” I call back. “Genuinely curious because if you still say that, it means you’re at least looking at renewing the lease on your car and might buy a new dishwasher if things pan out.”
He bursts out laughing. “Why a dishwasher?”
“It’s what old people do!” Everything is double in my vision, the trees, I mean, it is a forest so that could have been a me problem, but the point is, everything looked entirely too far down.
