Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)
He did.
All because he saw a purple and white brochure on my desk when he came over: an NYU brochure.
When he picked it up and started to leaf through it, I went on a tangent talking about how excited I was, how I was so looking forward to going and how I’d just gotten information about my dorm room and accommodations and my course list and whatnot.
Yes, I admit that I might have overdone it a little bit.
Just to get a reaction out of him.
Because he hasn’t said it yet, but I know that me going to NYU is sort of like his self-imposed deadline. That is when he’s planning to let me go and be with my ex-boyfriend.
And when I kept talking and talking about it, he got all agitated and upset. He fucked me before we went on our ride. He fucked me, right by the lake. Then he ate me out right after that. And then he brought me back and fucked me two more times.
Through all of that, he had his mouth fused to mine.
He had his mouth eating me and kissing me and stealing all my breaths.
He wouldn’t let me go. He wouldn’t give me a break.
“All that, that wasn’t just sex. That was you being jealous. That was you being crazy, irrationally possessive. That was you not dealing with me leaving for college soon. Because when I leave for college, I leave you as well, don’t I? That’s when you think I go back to him. That’s when you think I start my happily ever after. With the right guy. With the guy I’m supposed to choose. But you don’t want me to. Because you want me for yourself. You want me to live my happily ever after with you. You call yourself sick because you want me too much, don’t you? Because you’re obsessed with me. You want to protect me from everything. You want to kiss my tears away. You want to take me on bike rides, help me climb down my window. You want to listen to my ramblings about my books; you want to watch movies you hate; you want to fix things for me, make me smile, send me to NYU on your dime and make my dreams come true. Don’t you? But most of all, you want me to choose a guy you think is better than you. The guy you think would give me all the things that I want. It’s because you love me. This is love. You’re lovesick, and I wish…”
Just like that, all my anger drains away.
I become exhausted and heartsore.
Heartsick.
And I know that the only thing that will make me better is his arms around me. The only thing that will make him feel better are mine around him.
But I know he won’t allow that.
So I wrap my arms around myself and whisper, a tear falling down my cheek, “And I wish that was all that you were.”
He follows it with his reddish-brown eyes, his rapidly healing face going all tight and… anguished.
Because I know he can’t see me cry.
And I also know that he doesn’t know how to make it stop.
“But you’re not, are you,” I continue, another tear falling. “You’re also a second son. A disappointment.”
He flinches at that.
Drawing back. Taking a step back from me as if he’s afraid of me now.
As if a crying girl, in her pink nightie and disheveled braid, dipped in pink love and heartbreak, is something to be afraid of.
“Don’t go there.”
“That’s what you’ve been told all your life,” I say, sniffling, ignoring him. “That’s what your dad, that horrible man, has told you. That’s what he’s told the world. And so that’s what they believe. They create all these rumors about you, all these lies. They misunderstand. And I have to admit that I misunderstood as well and again, I apologize for that. That I let you lead me astray, that I let you push me away rather than standing firm in my belief that there was more to you, the bandit that I met in the woods that first night. But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is that you misunderstand yourself too. You believe all the rumors too, all the lies about yourself. You believe that you’re a disappointment. That that’s what you’re capable of. You actually believe that you’re all bad, all irredeemable, all sinner.”
I sob and press a hand on my mouth to not be too loud.
To not be too heartbroken.
Because I can see that it’s affecting him.
I can see that it hurts him to hurt me.
“But I want to tell you something, something that you told me. You told me that I can’t be all good all the time. That I can’t be all perfect. That I’m allowed to be whoever I want to be. I’m allowed to be myself. So I’m telling you that you’re allowed to be yourself too. You’re allowed to be who you want to be and not what the world believes you are. Not what your dad believed you are. And what you are is an abused boy who tried to survive the only way that he knew how. What you are is a loyal friend who saved a new kid from bullies. You’re a boy who’s learning to be a good brother, who’s struggling with it but still learning and growing. But most of all, you’re a boy who taught a girl how to be herself.