I’m too fucked up to care. It doesn’t change anything.
I swallow over my tears, wipe my forearm over my eyes and move to sit on the edge of the bed facing the Oregon Ducks poster on her wall. It’s one of me holding a football in the air when they announced me as starting quarterback my freshman year. It makes me sick that she has that up and fucks other guys in this same bed.
Madison curls into herself facing the wall, her bare ass visible now. My eyes travel the length of her body and then crash. Hanging my head, my body wants to collapse right next to her, beg her to take this pain she caused away. I sit there for a second, gasping, trying to leave. When I hear her cries, the ones that shake the bed, like she’s starting to hyperventilate. I stand wiping my hands over my eyes once more and make the ten steps to the door. I look back, she’s not watching me leave. She can’t. Maybe it’s breaking her too.
Why not me?
Why is it always you?
Why can’t you see me!
Why can’t you love me?
When she hears the door open, Jenny looks to me, her head peeking around the corner of the bathroom again, as I stand at the door zipping, buttoning and righting my belt. She’s shocked at what she’s seen.
Never would someone expect to see Cash Bryant like this.
I don’t care. Fuck her, too.
I get just outside her dorm and across the courtyard before I throw up. Not only from the liquor but the wrenching pain in my gut that’s consuming me. What. Have. I. Done?
My mind flashes with memories as I stare at the ground. I remember flag football for kisses and grape Jolly Ranchers shared outside school waiting for the bus. I remember check yes or no and praying for yes.
I don’t want to remember tonight.
It hurts to remember.
Hurting makes you do stupid shit. Makes you love people you shouldn’t. Makes you lie to your heart. Fuck her. Fuck her for being stupid, tasting like grape Jolly Ranchers and sweet sugar lips. Fuck her bleachers and the way she kissed me after that championship game. Fuck that night. Fuck the ring I still have, and most of all, fuck her for killing me when she does, fuck my text messages and those three AM blue-lit mornings.
November 26, 2013
I haven’t calmed down from the other night. In fact, I’m worse now with rage than I was that night. If that’s possible at this point.
I suppose that’s mostly because of who’s in my face right now and it’s been a rough fucking month.
“Where was Madison last night?” Colton teases.
I close my eyes willing myself not to react. Fucking asshole.
Don’t turn around.
Don’t.
I take my pads off and toss them aside, on the ground at my feet, I don’t bother even looking at him. “On my dick, why?” I mumbled running my hands through my sweat soaked hair.
Saylor and Holden laugh beside me. I don’t even crack a smile.
I’m being cocky but my stomach clenches, anger and adrenaline rushing through me at the thoughts of what he’s getting at. Colton doesn’t say shit like this to me unless it’s leading somewhere.
I don’t like where this is going.
Colton laughs folding his arms over his bare chest, his eyes burning into mine willing me to react. “No man, before that?” His chin raises and he gives me a head nod. I want to knock his motherfucking teeth in.
He’s trying to piss me off and you know what, I’m the fucking bait and turn around.
“Why are you asking me this?”
Colton laughs, and I’m ready to kill him. “Maybe because she was sucking Jay’s dick in a parking lot for blow.” He thinks this shit is funny. “She was begging him for it.”
No fucking way.
She wouldn’t do that.
She loves me, right?
Wrong.
As pissed as I am right now, I find a little humor in his remark. A little. I’m not even sure what part. Maybe all of it. Maybe the part about what she asked for. Madison doesn’t ask for anything. She doesn’t know how to.
Or does she? I know what I need to do first. Who I need to see.
Landon knows where I’m about to go.
He holds up a hand to stop me, as if he can. Deep down he’s dealt with me enough to know trying to stop me is pointless. “He’s dangerous.”
“Don’t you have to go get high or something?” I brush past him hitting his shoulder with my own.
There’s danger in this world and it doesn’t come from what you’d think.
It doesn’t come from violence or a gun. It comes from hatred.
It comes from anger that blinds you.
Jay Lucas isn’t hard to find. Look in any alley around school and you’re bound to find the guy. I’ve known of Jay for about a year now. I’m surprised it’s taken me this long to go to him. I should have went to him when I found the cocaine the first time knowing damn well Madison wasn’t going to stop unless the temptation was gone.