“Alex?” I whisper.
He looks at me with hate in his eyes––with contempt. “Have a nice time at home, did ya?”
“What?”
“No need to answer,” he spews. Then he says, “Whatever,” and walks out, slamming the front door behind him.
My mouth hangs open like a damn fish. I look over at Brooke, who’s now standing in her doorway wearing only a tiny red tank top and a black thong. She looks like the cat who ate the canary.
“Well, it looks like Alex prefers thin women after all.”
With that comment, she turns and walks back into her lair, slamming the door behind her.
In all of the drama, I had forgotten to put my cup under the pod nozzle. Coffee is running everywhere—on the counter, on the floor. But I don't care. I start to cry and run to my room. I throw myself onto my bed and cry so hard I think I’m going to throw up.
There’s vibration under my leg. My phone. I’m glad it’s here. I’d hate to lose it. As I pick it up, I see a text from Lily asking me if everything’s okay. I quickly reply that things are good and let her know Mom is heading home later today. I’m in no frame of mind to talk about what just happened here, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be.
I see a red number on my message icon and tap it to open and see a bunch from Alex. There are at least fifteen text messages and it looks like four voice messages. All of the texts are asking things like “Why aren’t you at the game?” “Are you okay?” “I’m worried. Please write back a.s.a.p.” It makes me nervous to listen to his voice messages. Reading a text is not as personal as hearing his voice. I’ve got to listen though.
The first two messages are frantically asking where I was and if I’m okay. Another one is asking me to call him back with more of the same questions. He was so worried—at least he was at first. The messages that came in later in the evening were a different story. On one, there’s a lot of background noise. He must’ve been out. He’s just breathing at first, then I hear him say one word: “Why?” And then he hangs up. The last message from him was left at two thirty in the morning. It’s obvious he’s drunk. His speech is slurred and angry; I’d go so far as to say he’s downright belligerent. That’s not typically how he talks to me. Something’s definitely wrong, and I can’t see it having anything to do with the loss yesterday. No, this is personal. I know this when he says, “Stella, it’s Alex. I just wanted to say that I thought you were different, but you’re not. You’re just like all the rest of the bitches in this world. Well, good riddance. I don’t ever want to see your fat, err, ugly, round face again.” I hear a giggle coming from somewhere in the background of his message and then a girl’s voice. “Come on, baby, let’s go. I can’t wait to get you into my bed.”
I’d recognize that voice anywhere. It’s Brooke Clark.
Not gonna lie. Hearing him call me ugly was more thanthis girl can take.Fat, ugly round face?Really? He had to say the most hurtful thing he could think of at that moment. I caught the first word—fat—even though he tried to change it to ugly. Too late. The damage is done.
The thing I don’t understand is why? What did I do to deserve that? Is this all because I didn’t go to his game? I could clear all of this up right now, but if what he said last night and just now in my dorm, what’s the point? He never wants to see my fat, ugly face again.
IknewI shouldn’t have trusted him so easily. I should have learned from Bradley that guys don’t like soft, round girl. Alex may have thought he did, but I guess once he saw the entire package, he was repulsed and wanted to move on to skinnier (and meaner) pastures. Well, if he wants a woman like my roommate, he can have her.
Chapter Twenty-Four
ALEX
Holy shit.What have I done?Waking up on that bitch’s couch was bad enough. Having Stella catch me coming out of her bathroom like Bradley on the day we met was completely fucked up. I didn’t fuck Brooke. I don’t think I even touched her. She pulled me down the hall from the elevator last night, begging me to make sure her room was safe. It was total bullshit. Once she got me in there, she pushed me onto the couch and tried to shove her hand down my pants. I was able to push her off me and literally growled at her to get away. By the time she finally slithered back into her hole, I was passed out on her tiny-ass couch. I was so wasted, all I wanted to do was sleep.
In the morning, I took a quick shower to wash off the stench of bar from my body. I slid my jeans back on but not my shirt. Fuck. Why did Stella have to be there? Even though she doesn’t want me, she didn’t deserve that, even if she is dumb enough to go back to that jerk.
And yet, the asshole part of me is glad she saw that. She broke my heart. Maybe it bothered her at least a little. Besides, eventually she’ll figure out that Bradley is the same douche hewas a month ago, and she might come crawling back to me. But I won’t be able to handle her messing with my head. This should put an end to any of those ideas she may have later. This whole thing sucks beyond words. God, I fucking hate my life right now.
Chapter Twenty-Five
STELLA
Ispent the entire week after all the stuff happened with Alex in my bed. I mean, who the hell cares if I make it to class? No one, that’s who. Who cares if I don’t shower and only eat Twinkies for sustenance? No one. Lily has texted me throughout the week. I just reply with “I’m fine––just busy with Mom stuff.”
With that thought, I email all of my professors and tell them about my mom and that I’ll be back soon and will catch up at that time. There, that seems to appease everyone. Now I can lie here, cry, eat junk food, and feel sorry for myself. This is exactly what I need. Alone time. But after a week of alone time, I’m pretty sick of myself. I smell, I feel like a bloated whale from all of my processed snacks, and I don’t think I can cry another drop for the rest of my life. Did I mention that I stink? I just don’t feel like showering. What’s the point?
Good news!No,greatnews! I received a letter from the NWU Department of Residence Halls that says our dorm willbe ready next Saturday. Yeah,finally. No more Brooke Clark! If that doesn’t turn my frown upside down, I don’t know what will.
Is it too soon to pack? I pick up my phone and send a text to Lily about the good news. She’s thrilled too! Lily’s roommate turned out to be a nightmare too. Apparently, she’s very needy and borrows Lily’s things secretly. Yeah, creepy.
I send a text to my dad next. When I first moved in, he’d said he’d come up and help me move over to Hinman Hall when the time came, but I’m not sure if he still can with Mom and all. Even though she’s doing much better, he may not want to be away from her. He replies saying he’ll be able to run down and help me. He wants me to be all packed up though. He doesn’t want to be away from Mom for very long. Vicky can stay with her while he’s helping me. He asks me if Alex is going to help, but then he remembers that there’s an away game.Phew. I don’t want to get into all of that. I'm not ready to confess to them the total and complete disaster my life has become.
Chapter Twenty-Six
STELLA
The weekend went by at a snail's pace. Even with a week of wallowing, I still can’t shake the melancholy. I hope time will make that go away. On Monday, I meet up with Lily over lunch to update her on my mom’s recovery. She still thinks I was home all last week. I’m not about to tell her where I really was. As for today, I need to track down all of my professors to pick up my missed assignments from last week so I can I try to get back into the swing of things and pretend like nothing is wrong with me.
