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That’s probably it. I’m not educated. I’m not smart enough.
I’m hit with another wave of nausea.
I hate that I’m feeling so strongly about this. I hate that he got to me.
I put Aaron on a pedestal, I romanticized our interactions, and I saw him through rose-colored glasses.
This is on me.
I keep mentally badgering myself. I want to kick myself for being so naïve and stupid.
I don’t want to feel so exposed and raw and hurt and embarrassed, but I do.
Maybe my saving grace is that no one else knows what happened. No one else knows about the nothingness that apparently occurred between us.
I get into the car they have ready to take me home and put my head in my hands.
I was so hopeful about the future and now it’s making me feel sick.
All I want to do is go back to my apartment, lay on the floor, and forget this ever happened.
CHAPTER 18
MILLIE
When I get home, Danielle is nowhere to be found.
I jump in the shower and try to wash the entire experience off me.
I let myself cry. I let myself feel all my feelings and then I shove them away.
Aaron isn’t worth my tears. He isn’t worth my time, not anymore.
By the time Danielle gets home, I’m curled up on the couch with a fluffy blanket, ice cream, and a chick flick.
She bounces over to me. “Oh my God, you’refinallyhome. Tell me everything!”
I frown.
Danielle looks at the screen and back to the blanket and ice cream. “Oh, honey. What happened?”
Exhaustion suddenly overwhelming me, I tell her I will explain everything tomorrow night. Right now, I need sleep.
I curl up in my bed and try to erase Aaron from my memory even as images of our night together play in my mind.
I wake to the bright sun blinding me and it takes me a minute to realize I’m home.
It’s nice to be home, kind of.
I miss his sheets. They were so soft.
Great, I’m already thinking about him.
I decide it’s time to distract myself and find a job.
I’m going to need money if Aaron doesn’t hold up his end of the bargain, and even if I do end up going to college, I’m going to need money to sustain me.
I look through the job postings and apply for as many as I’m qualified for, and some that I’m not qualified for. Apparently men do that all the time, so why not?
