Since I’ve been here, my mind hasn’t stopped. No wonder I’m a nervous-wreck who doesn’t want to leave the house.
“Sailor?” Sam calls my name softly, the squeak of the door telling me he’s opened it without asking. I pretend to sleep, not wanting to deal with him right now—or most days, if I’m honest.
He’s been so nice and thoughtful, and I am grateful that he’s allowed me to stay here, but the more time I spend with him, the more I realize that Sam is not it for me. He’s everything I should want, but nothing I crave.
Not the way I crave Jaxon.
I could text him. It would be so easy…
But then I think about all the times he’s texted me.
Zero.
Not a single one.
It hurts more than it should. I mean, even if he did text me, I wouldn’t answer him back, but to know I was so easily thrown away? To know that he doesn’t even care that I left? It stings.
It’s also terrifying because that means I’m as expendable as Mindy was—that if I piss him off next, maybe he’ll throw me over the bluffs too. If he cared, even a little, he’d call or text or do something to show me he does—do something to get me back. All he’s shown me is how much I mean to him—nothing.
“Hey,” Sam says, sitting on the edge of the bed and putting his hand on my back. I instinctively flinch, which gives away that I’m not asleep.Damnit.
I wish he wouldn’t do this, but he always does… always gets in my space when I want to be left alone. I know what he’s doing. I know he’s trying to pull me out of this funk—as a good friend would do—but it won’t work; it’s not that simple. And it’s more annoying than anything because I tell him to leave me alone… and he just doesn’t. He doesn’t know how to listen, and he certainly doesn’t respect my boundaries. He thinks he knows me better than I know myself, trying to give me advice and tell me he knows what I’m going through. I think the only person whoreallyknows me is Jaxon, but I can’t be that person anymore.It’s not normal, and it’s certainly not safe. People hide who they truly are all the time. Why should I be any different? Why did I think I couldbedifferent?
Because Jaxon allowed me to be… He gave me a safe space for that.
But there is more to life, and to this world, than Jaxon. I can’t only be myself with him and forget about the rest of the world. It doesn’t work that way because I don’t, and can’t, live in a bubble.
Being the girl Jaxon wants is a bad idea.
Being the girl Sam wants is safe. It’s comfortable. It’s… terrible. Boring. Monotonous. Everything that I don’t want.
Still, I throw the blankets back and smile up at Sam as if I’m happy he’s here… in my space. If I pretend enough, maybe I’ll believe it. Maybe we could make this work, the way it did before, when I thought I was happy with him—when I pretended to be.
“There’s my girl.” He tucks some hair behind my ear, smiling down at me. His skin against mine turns my stomach, but I do nothing to show him that. “What are you going to do today?”
I shrug. “Look for a job, maybe.”
“You know you don’t have to work.”
“I want to. I need to do something.”
“You could take a few more classes?”
I’ve already told him I don’t want to busy myself with more school. It’s stressing me out enough to keep up with all this stuff online because my brain has been so foggy lately. All but one of my teachers had sent apology emails, saying they weren’t prepared for an online student and are still getting the hang of making it work, which just screwed me up too because I’ve never done online schooling like this. It’s so different from what I did before.
Why the hell did they approve me doing this online if it isn’t a typical thing? It doesn’t make sense. Why make an exception for me? I didn’t ask, because if it’s working out in my favor, I shouldaccept it. Be grateful that I don’t have one more thing added to my shit mountain.
“No, Sam, I don’t want to do that,” I say as nicely as I can.
“It’s just a suggestion.” He gets to his feet. “There is breakfast for you in the oven. I have classes, then work, so I’ll be home late.”
“Okay.” I smile again, but it physically hurts.
He leans down to kiss me—my cheek maybe, or my forehead—but I shift so he misses. He stays there for just a moment, then sighs and leaves the room. Stopping in the doorway, he looks back in, smiling pitifully. “Have a good day, Sailor.”
I lie in bed until the front door closes and the lock snaps shut. That’s when I get up to get on with my day.
My shower is quick because my anxiety is at an all-time high being in such a vulnerable state while alone. If someone broke in, I wouldn’t be able to fight them off while I’m all soapy and naked. I’d try like hell, but I’ve seen enough movies to know how it ends. Though, when Sam is here, I also worry he will come in and try to join me. So either way I’m not winning. What I wouldn’t give to take asafeshower.
