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I actually feel quite sick.
I put my food down on the desk on my half of Addison’s room but all I can think about is what I just overheard.
The thought of Killian kissing her…
I grab my stomach, sinking down on the edge of the bed and trying to get a grip. I need to rally and eat my food, but I suddenly just want to die.
I shouldn’t allow myself to feel this way. I knew it was going to happen.
If he’s going to marry her, then he’s going to kiss her.
He’s going to do much more than kiss her.
Picturing her in my spot in his bed, his hands on her body, wipes out any remaining appetite I might have.
I’m too sad to eat, so instead I curl up in bed, turn on some sad music that hurts just the way I need it to, and hide under my blankets.
I don’t know how long I waste away in that agonizing cocoon, but that’s how Addison finds me when she gets home.
Seeing that I’m obviously going through a down spell, she leaves me be and sits at her desk to eat her Caesar salad.
I peek out just long enough to tell her, “I got grapes and cheese if you want them. I brought them up here, but then I didn’t feel like eating.”
“Have you eaten anything?” she asks.
I shake my head.
Sighing, she pushes back her seat and stands. “You have to eat, Brynn. You hardly eat as it is. I think your cat eats more than you.”
“Too depressed to eat,” I tell her.
“No. We’re not doing that. At least eat the grapes and cheese so they don’t go bad. What else do you have here?” She picks up my coffee. “Not very hot, but why don’t you at least eat these since they’ll spoil and have to be thrown away otherwise. When I finish eating, I can run down and get you something if you want. You want a salad? Mango smoothie? A candy bar?”
I shake my head, but I sit up enough to grab the coffee and fruit. “Thanks,” I murmur.
“You need to eat or you’ll never have the strength to get out of that bed.”
I do want to get out of this particular bed because it’s not comfortable, but in general, I would like to stay in bed forever. The world is mean and dumb and it makes me sad.
Addison goes back to her salad, and I go back to listening to my sad song and picking at grapes and cheese.
When I finish, I resume my position in my blanket fortress.
I lose time, but I’m not sure how much. It feels like minutes, but maybe it’s hours.
Addison comes over to check on me.
“Hey, hon. How are you doing?”
Face pressed into my borrowed pillow, I offer a muffled, “Bad.”
“Sure. I got that from Last Kiss playing on an endless loop for hours.”
“Sorry,” I murmur. “Do you want me to put my headphones on?”
“No, I love me some Taylor as much as the next non-hater. And while I admire your deep commitment to paying for her next house with Spotify listens of this single track, I was just thinking variety is the spice of life and I know she must have some other songs that give ‘fuck Killian’ vibes as good as this one. Maybe we could make a ‘fuck Killian’ playlist or something and add just a couple more.”
“No. I like this one.”
