Don't Follow Me: A High School Bully Romance (Diamond In The Rough Book 4)(35)
Allison made me a plate of food. “Hopefully this will help the rest of your headache and nausea.”
I sipped my coffee. “Never again am I doing this.”
“Good. Because being drunk, high, and a bitch doesn’t look good on you.”
My eyes widened. “Damn, Allison. Back at it with the cursing again.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry, but the situation calls for it. You were an absolute maniac last night. You hurt a lot of people in the process. Clint more than anyone.”
I nodded. “I know. I know. I don’t--”
“Mmm, no. I don’t think you do know.”
She handed me the plate of food and I took it. But I felt my appetite quickly dissipating. Allison was in rare form this weekend, and every time she cursed, it took me by surprise. I set the plate on my lap and picked at it with my fingers. I held up the extra crispy bacon before putting it back down. I slid the plate onto the bedside table and reached for my coffee, desperate for the caffeine.
“You need to try and eat.”
I nodded slowly. “And I will. Once I have the energy to move my jaw.”
Allison sat on her bed. “You’re moving it now.”
I tossed her a look. “You know what I mean.”
“Actually, I don’t. Are you not hungry?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you not hungry because you feel guilty?”
“Allison. I get it. Okay?”
She took a bite of her bacon. “I don’t think you do get it, though. Do you remember anything else from last night?”
I paused. “I thought you told me all of it?”
She giggled bitterly. “I told you what I thought caused Clint’s drunken tirade once you stormed off. But that wasn’t the only thing you said.”
“Clint got drunk last night?”
“Uh, yeah. And apparently, he did it in spectacular fashion. Hence, the fight.”
I blinked. “The fight?”
She scoffed. “Are you serious right now? Yes, the fight. The bruises. You were with him for a while last night before we switched rooms. How much time have you lost?”
My eyes danced around the room. “Why is everything so fuzzy?”
“Because that’s what getting high and drunk instead of talking about your feelings does.”
I licked my lips. “What else did I say last night?”
She shrugged. “That you felt smothered. That you wanted space.”
“I know. You’ve told me that part. But why do I get the feeling there’s more you won’t tell me?”
“Because I feel Clint has some right to jog your memory of it.”
“Seriously? You’re playing that card right now?”
“You don’t have any cards to play, Rae. You’ve spent all of them. Every single one of us got caught in your tirade of insanity last night. And not one of us got out unscathed. So yes. I’m playing that card right now.”
I blinked. “What did I say to you?”
“It isn’t what you said. It’s what you did. I care about Clint. He’s become a good friend of mine. And what you did last night to him was completely and utterly wrong.”
“I’m begging you, Allison. Tell me what I said.”
She sighed. “You aren’t going to like it.”
“I already don’t like it, so that won’t budge.”
“After I tell you this, you have to be strong enough to talk with him today. You know he’s going to want to talk. There’s no falling apart like you did last night.”
“I get it. I won’t fall apart.”
She drew in a deep breath. “You told him that you felt as if he was dragging you around like a child. You told him you were afraid to leave high school behind, but that going to the party and seeing everyone so confident helped you to see that you needed to come alone. To do this all alone.”
“I said that?”
“I’m paraphrasing. Clint accused you of being paranoid because of the booze and drug mixture, and I’m pretty sure he was right. That made you angrier, though. Clint said you needed to go back to the hotel to get a food and some shower, and you told him ‘maybe what I need is another boyfriend.’”
A chill ran through my veins. “Please tell me that was paraphrasing, too.”
“Actually, no. ‘Maybe what I need is another boyfriend’ was a direct quote from you last night.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No. I’m really not. After that, I’m pretty sure you called him an asshole before storming off.”
“I called him the asshole.”
“At least you’re sober enough to see the irony.”
I sat there, stunned. “Why the hell did I say that?” I shook my head at myself as tears rushed my eyes. “My God, he’s never going to forgive me.”
Allison sipped her orange juice. “Sure he will.”
“He really won’t. If he’s got any sense about him, he won’t.”
“But he loves you. So he will.”
I stared blankly at her. “Fine. Say he does. But he won’t ever forget I said those words. And I can’t take them back.”
She licked her lips as we sat in silence. I watched Allison nibble on her food. Sip her orange juice. Generally look at every part of the room except for me.
“Allison?”
Her eyes came back to mine. “Yeah?”
My voice lowered to a whisper. “I think I’m making a mistake.”
“With Clint?”
I shook my head. “With school.”
My gaze fell to the floor as Allison got off the bed. She came over and sat beside me, her hand rubbing softly against my back. I let the tears fall. There was no use in expending the energy to hold them back. But saying it out loud? Admitting it to someone?
It felt good.
“How do you figure?” she asked.
I shook my head. “None of this is me. Last night wasn’t me. This campus isn’t me. The closer we get to the school year starting, the worse I feel. I don’t know if I picked Cal State because I really wanted to come here, or if I wanted to get away from my mother.”
“It did shock me when you told me you didn’t want to pursue graphic design.”
“Right? But, when I was talking to Mom about the community college not too far up the road from the house, she started talking about getting a part-time job to help with things and I could go to school part-time and stay at the grocery store. She talked about our girls’ nights and me staying at home and commuting and how we could pool our money together and get a reliable car and it fucking freaked me out, Allison. Like, big time.”
“And rightfully so.”
“I don't think I chose to come here because it’s what I want. I think I chose to apply and come here because I wanted to get away from Mom. And now that I’m here?”
“It doesn’t feel like where you’re supposed to be.”
My lower lip quivered. “I’ve ruined everything.”
She shook her head. “No, you haven’t.”
“Do you feel this way at all? As you and Michael get closer to going off to school?”
She paused, then shook her head again. “No, Rae. Not even a little bit.”
I sighed. “So none of this is normal.”
“No, it’s not. For as long as I can remember, you’ve been dead set on making something of your artistry. Graphic design. Drawing. Something like that. I wanted to jump down your throat when you said something about doing English. It’s not at all like you. You know who that sounds like, though?”
I blinked. “Who?”
“Clint would’ve been good at an English degree. Especially with how much he loves to write in that journal of his.”
“You think I did the English degree to please Clint?”
“No. I think you chose English because the second biggest thing you love in your life is him. And you wanted something to remember him by once you went off to college. I bet you anything that, in the back of your mind, you chose English when you were asked to declare a possible major on all that paperwork because thinking about Clint made you happy. And English made you think about him.”
“I mean, I can’t fail at English, either. I’ve always been good at it. The reading. The papers.”
She nodded. “That, too. Rae, I don’t think I could commit to the workload I’m going to get at Stanford if I wasn’t absolutely positive that I was supposed to be there. I’m all in, and that’s what college takes. Same with Michael. So, if this isn’t where you want to be, you need to take some time and cool your jets.”
“But with Mom--”
She cupped my cheek. “Whatever you choose to do, she’ll understand. And there are plenty of ways to fix what’s going on with you and your mother. Starting with putting your foot down on some things.”
I sniffled. “But why do I have to keep doing that with my own fucking mother?”
She giggled softly. “Because it’s your mother, Rae. None of this should shock you, or scare you. But I think with the idea of coming to a college you hate, it’s making you freak out about everything else because you’ve never encountered this kind of fear before.”
“I did once.”
She nodded. “With Clint’s accident.”
My lip trembled. “I remember how helpless I felt. How terrified I had become. How out of control everything was around me. I feel like that again. And I don’t know what to do.”