Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“What the hell is it with that guy? Who is he to you?”
She flinches and steps back, a sheet of tears falling down her face. I immediately regret what I said and how it came out. I go to take her hand, but she rips it away and backs up again, wiping her tears away with her palms.
“He’s only the guy who saved me from being raped when I was twelve. He’s family––that’s who he is to me. And my loyalty runs deep, Jordan. Down to the bone. You should know that about me by now…I would never abandon him the way you did me.”
She turns and marches away, down the sidewalk, while I stay in place for another ten minutes processing how badly I fucked up again.
Raped. She was almost raped…
I keep hurting the one person I love most. I’m my own worst enemy. Eli was right. Smart doesn’t mean shit when you go through life a blind fool.
19
Chapter Nineteen
Riley
“You’re not wearing the turkey tail feathers…” Julie, the floor manager of the cosmetics department, says to me. Julie is one of those annoying people who always has a smile on her face, even when she’s stabbing you in the back, and thinks holidays are a celebration of life and expects everyone around her to act accordingly. Julie blows.
“I’m trying to spread a little holiday cheer and I want everyone to wear them.”
Taking the headband out of my bag behind the counter, I slip it on my head. She smiles like a crazed Disney character and saunters away.
“I’m not wearing this,” I tell my best friend in a fit of pique.
I have a turkey tail on my head. This is what my life has come to, a once promising life I was proud of has been reduced to this.
Plucky White Girl Makes Good After Bad Start!
That should’ve been the byline of my story had the story not been totally wrecked by the two men I love. Instead, I’m wearing feathers, ugly brown feathers to make end’s meet.
Veronica stops sifting through the drawer of eye shadows behind the counter and looks up. She’s wearing one too. The difference is that she makes it look like sexy while I just make it look stupid.
“I’m going to the stock room. We’re low on black mascara,” I announce petulantly.
Veronica hooked me up with a part-time job at the store through the holiday season. I’m employed until after New Year’s Eve. After that I’m on my own again.
Thanksgiving is in two days. I can’t even bear to think about it. Maisie’s gone. Tommy’s gone, caught a bus to California as promised. I begged him to stay and get in a program. He insisted he needed a clean start somewhere new and I wasn’t going to force him to stay and face Ivan again. He made me promise to come visit him when I got back on my feet financially which will probably be never.
Veronica invited me and Bonnie over to celebrate with her family, but I think I’m going to spend it in bed with two dudes. Ben & Jerry. At least they’ll make me feel good and they won’t accuse me of stealing their money.
Then there’s the packing that needs to get done. I’m selling the two-family. Bonnie and I have to move into a studio apartment. This is just the reality of life right now. There’s no use in crying over what was lost.
“Don’t ever give up on your hopes and dreams, a stór,” my Dad used to tell me.
I can’t. I refuse to go down without a fight. It’s just that I’m so tired of fighting for every little scrap.
I try not to think about Jordan much these days. Doesn’t mean I’m very good at it––I’m just saying I try. Which is a pretty big deal considering I spent the first week in bed crying until I’d wrung every grain of salt out of my body.
It was a shock to learn I’m more like my mother than I want to be. Watching her suffer used to baffle me. Why didn’t she just get over it? Now I know why––she didn’t have a choice. Love doesn’t give you a choice. It dictates how it’s going to be.
The truth about love is that it’s painful. That’s how you know it’s real. The people we love are sometimes not good or kind, and often make mistakes. Some die. Some leave. Some will betray you. But you’ll continue to love them anyway.
I guess this is what it means to be human, that despite the cost to oneself, despite the pain, we continue to love. No matter how many times you tell yourself to get over it. No matter now many times you tell yourself to move on.
That goes for me too. Because despite everything, I do love him. I still love him. And I probably always will.