Page 9 of This I Promise You
But I missed the rest.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—” Paul, otherwise known as the douchey hot guy, starts to apologize, but I’m not having it.
“Just fuck off, man.” I show him my middle finger and then turn to Huxley as she’s holding him back. “Take yourfriendhome.”
“Don’t worry, we’re goingnow.” Huxley eyes Paul. “Right?”
He practically growls at me before huffing and turning.
I smack my lips and look at Aidan. “That was something.”
“Yeah, he’s definitely your type.”
“Excuse me?” I jerk my head back in surprise.
He looks at me like I’m insane but doesn’t say more.
“Okay, okay.” I roll my eyes.
Fine, I might have a history of sketchy narcissistic guys. And he was hot.
Paul
On A Fucking Monday
We round the corner from Uptown Slam to head back to the parking lot. “Seriously, whatthe hellwas that about, Paul? It was pretty fucking petty if you ask me.”
Huxley’s brow is furrowed and she’s walking fifty miles an hour. I struggle to keep up while simultaneously trying to put on my leather jacket. She’s pissed. It’s cold as shit and I’m pissed, too. More at myself than anything. When that shithead called me a douchebag, it just set me off. She’s probably trying to figure out how she can get out of living with me now. Wouldn’t be too hard since the apartment is pretty much hers anyway. Maybe I should just pack my shit back up and go.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I—” It’s all I can say because I don’t even know who I am right now. I never fight. I’ve never actually hit anyone before. Having muscles is still a new development for me to wrap my mind around. I’ve been a six-foot-one skinny white boy my whole life. But now that I have muscles I…I, what? Want to fight someone?
No.
And the look on his face. Dammit, I shouldn’t have done that. But he didn’t need to call me a douche! How was I to know Freckles had a boyfriend? I finally put myself out there and I get fucked in the process.Thisis why I don’t do this shit. AND ON A FUCKING MONDAY!
Huxley doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the night. She blasts Demi Lovato all the way home and then goes straight to her room.
I guess she knew that dude? I can’t even remember his name now. It’s like I blacked out. I can’t do this. I just moved here, startedone dayof school and I’m already in over my head. Moving here was a bad idea. I should have just stayed my ass in Kansas City, Missouri. I could have figured it out. I could have. But I didn’t and now I’m in North Carolina picking fights with bad-mouthedchildren.
I can’t do this.
I stomp into my room, curl up in bed, and grab my notebook.I start to write manically. It’s all so terrible. I know the words I’m pouring out are not good, but it’s the pain I’m feeling right now. It’s my loneliness and every moment where I’ve fucked up my own life.
Once I’m done I feel empty and raw. But at least these feelings are no longer inside of me for the moment. And then I am able to fall asleep.
Easton
There Is No Maybe, Only Do
“I can’t tell if you hate or love this Paul guy,” Cameron says. He’s Aidan’s former roommate, this tall, slim, pale boy, with short messy brown hair and a voice that is so much deeper than you’d expect from a cute guy like him.
“Like, really?” Aidan laughs.
We’re taking a short break between classes for a quick catch-up in the little cafe in Fretwell. My egg and cheese croissant is half eaten on my plate, and a surprisingly good mocha frappe is in my hand.
“Come on. Nothing wrong with admiring the bad guy a little.” I shrug and look at Aidan. “I mean, you saw him. Hewashot. A major asshole, buthot.”
“Eh, I don’t know. Being an asshole sort of makes people unattractive to me. Plus,” Aidan pauses, then continues, “he was alittletoo built.”
