Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 98992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
“That wasn’t-”
“That was exactly why, Collins. I’m not here for the bullshit you bought into. I’m not here to listen to you repackage it for the sell. I’m here to tell you the goddamn truth you are too stubborn to accept. You kept your relationship off everyone’s radar because you hadn’t given up hope that you would do something right in your father’s eyes and finally be given the recognition you desperately craved.”
Fuck. Me.
I wish he were wrong.
I want him to be wrong.
I need him to be fucking wrong.
I need to know that there was never a time I wanted approval from that cold-hearted bastard I have no doubt is exaggerating his medical condition to gain sympathy or manipulate my big brother into doing something he wants.
Doc reaches into the pocket of his leather cut to retrieve the candy smoke and offer it my direction. “Tell me what happened when they finally met Bambi.”
Avoidance and annoyance prompt me into pushing back. “Do you just walk around with that shit in your pocket?”
“You were first on my schedule this morning.” His hard face remains emotionless. “I knew you were planning on skipping the shit today, but something in my gut told me to prep otherwise.”
Guilt guides my gaze elsewhere.
I absolutely fucking had every intention on not going to a session.
The constant chaos of recalling the magnanimous amount of forgiveness Pres graced me with and the constant heartache I put her through is beginning to weigh on me even heavier than it did before. Once you add that to facing the facts about my fucked-up relationships with my family, not knowing who I am anymore, and realizing I have so many fucking choices regarding who I wanna be, well, the aforementioned crushing weight becomes an unmovable load I may just die under.
I needed a day away.
A day to rebury the demons I’m not ready to face.
Lull to sleep the starving one begging for some sort of substance to make the constant pain momentarily stop again.
“Take it,” he sternly commands.
I do.
“Talk.”
Raising the chalky flavor to my tongue that both loves and hates its presence, I start, “When my family finally met Bambi, I was already at a breaking point. Pres and I had been publicly broken up for months. My old friends that were initially on my side were pissed off about my horrendous behavior. I was doing more than just blowing them off. I was actively talking shit about them behind their backs.” I go through the actions of pretending to light the imposter. “I was doing everything I possibly could to alienate myself from the person I was when I was with Pres, claiming it was to keep up appearances, but truth was, I hated being around them because they reminded me of how shitty of a human being I had become. Between them, Pres’s college prep bullshit keeping her too busy to see me, and the never-ending judgment and drama from Bambi’s friends, I was beginning to feel lonelier than I had ever fucking felt before. And while I didn’t know her as well as I probably should’ve considering I was her fucking boyfriend, she knew me. And she knew how to time it to get exactly what she fucking wanted…”
--
“You’re cheating on me!” Bambi shrieks at the top of her lungs like a husky puppy throwing a tantrum.
Pres thinks we should get one when we move in together.
I think after spending the last few months with one, I’m good for a lifetime.
“Just fucking admit it, Collins!”
I won’t admit that shit.
Just like I won’t admit that being around her without a blunt hit to help the comedown is fucking painful.
“Why are you still accusing me of this shit? You’ve already gone through my fucking phone four times this week! When are you gonna back the fuck off about it?!”
Her bottom lip pokes out in my least favorite fashion. “When you stop lying to me!”
“I’m not fucking lying to you, Bambi! For fucks sake, I already explained to you why this is the only time we’ll see each other during Christmas break! It’s not my fault my family made fucking vacations plans.”
Although, I do need a fucking vacation from her.
School.
Counting the days until fucking summer where I can give everyone the middle finger, toss Pres in the front seat of my car, and drive us to Florida to live off pineapples and coconut shrimp for three months.
We may not be leaving until closer to the big day but pretending I have other family obligations to start our distance from one another early seemed like a great gift to myself.
“Why can’t we do our own Christmas thing tonight then?” Her whining increases in volume as her body bounces up and down. “Why can’t you give me my present now?”
One, because I don’t have shit.