2brown-eyes rocks!
THEN
MAY 1992
November Rain—Guns N' Roses
The first letter comes just ten days later. Alice and I are headed upstairs to listen to music and do our homework when Mom hands it to me.
Numb.
That's what I feel when I see it.
"Edward still writes?" Alice's face lights up. "That's kinda romantic."
"It's really not," I say, shoving it into my top drawer to think about later. "Things are … weird between us."
Her brows furrow. "Weird, how? Won't he be home soon for summer break?"
"Yep," I say, voice clipped. "And we're just not in a good place."
"I guess that's what happens when you pretend Riley is your boyfriend for so long." She isn't being rude or sarcastic, just stating facts as she thinks they are. "Are you gonna do that for the summer, too?"
"I don't know," I say, settling on the bed and spreading out my homework. "Like I said … things are different."
"Are we gonna talk about it?"
I meet her inquisitive gaze. "No."
"Okay, then." She flips open her Physics book. "Crank up that stereo."
I scroll the dial, bypassing Billy Ray, whose annoying song is playing everywhere all the time, to land on November Rain, and we get to work. Long after books are put away and Alice has gone home, the letter in my drawer stays on my mind.
Two more days pass before I give in and pull it from the drawer. It feels dirty to touch it. I don't know what to expect. Our last words were harsh, and I wonder if this is his final say on that or an apology with the hope of diving back into the same toxic pattern.
I put it away again.
The weekend passes.
Friday at the rink.
Saturday shopping in PA with Jane.
Sunday night, I'm alone in my room and the letter screams at me, so I pull it out. With a deep breath, I tear open the envelope.
Bella,
I did something stupid.
I went to a frat party. My first, how about that? The alcohol was flowing and I was pathetic, so what else was I to do? I drank for hours, lost in my pity party of one.
Until I wasn't.
A girl joined me at some point, and I was pretty fucking numb, so I let her do whatever she wanted. Shove her tongue in my mouth, wiggle her ass around in my lap, and eventually return to my dorm.
I don't remember a lot, but it's already too much. It makes me physically ill when an errant moment flashes through my mind where I'm inside her. I gave her a part of myself that belonged to you, and it hurts, B.
It fucking hurts.
When I woke beside a warm body, I thought I was still in my dream, and it was you. Imagine my surprise when I saw an unfamiliar face. Even worse when images of that face from the night before start to flash by on a reel.
I threw up.
And then I ran her off. I wasn't gentle or kind, or anything I've ever been. I was cold and hurtful, practically accusing her of taking advantage of me. She left crying and disheveled, and I spent the entire next day in bed… after changing the sheets.
That brings me to now. It's Saturday afternoon and I'm fresh from the shower. I told you all this hoping it'll hurt you as much as it hurt me. I hate myself, and now I think I might hate you too.
I'm about to get dressed in that pair of Guess jeans you love so much—you know, the ones with the torn knee—and my Pump T-shirt. I'm going to another frat party, this time knowing how the night might end and not caring.
Much like you.
Catch ya on the flip side,
Edward
Tears drip from my jaw as I neatly fold up the letter and place it back inside the envelope. I didn't know what to expect, but it wasn't that. The payoff to all my hard work has arrived, and I absolutely hate it.
I didn't want details.
But I suppose I deserve them.
I don't cry for the rest of the day or anything, but a blanket of melancholy surrounds me for a good little while.
Until the next letter arrives.
Oh…
See ya Monday :)