“Partying is not all it’s cracked up to be, and cherish your virginity. Be careful who you give it to.”
Zayn’s annoyingly handsome face pops into my mind, and I stifle a groan. I hate that I’ll never be able to look back on the night I lost my virginity without conflicting emotions. Every loving touch and filthy word were fake, and it hurts my heart every time I remember it was all an act. Yet it was still a wonderful night, and he made it good for me. He made me feel cherished, and there’s a part of me that refuses to believe there wasn’t some truth in that moment.
I hate that I’m thinking of him again.
Why can’t I forget him?
It’s been almost a year, and he still keeps popping up unbidden. Even when I was dating Myles, I still thought about Zayn far too often, which is all kinds of wrong. I should hate him. I mean, Idohate him. I was leverage to get back at my father. He took my virginity purely as a weapon to wield against Winston Copeland. Plus, he recorded it without my permission and threatened to release it online.
He's a fucking prick!
Rage bubbles in my chest, and I cling to it because it’s better than the other emotion I feel when I think back on all of it—compassion.
I know why he did it. For Roman. And after learning of the sick things my cousin Lindsay was doing to boys in the home, I cannot blame Zayn for taking revenge. I wish he hadn’t usedme to do it, but I do understand to a point. My father knew and he turned a blind eyefor years. He refused to act when Zayn brought it to his attention, so he forced his hand.
If I had a little brother and those things were done to him, I would do whatever was necessary to make those responsible pay. I’d like to think I wouldn’t harm an innocent in the process, but I cannot say with one-hundred-percent certainty that I would choose the moral high ground. It’s impossible to know unless I was in that position.
If Zayn had confided in me, I would’ve helped him to take my cousin and my father down because the things they were doing sickened me. I would have helped him without hesitation, but he never gave me the chance.
“You’re a real space cadet, you know that?” Azzy tugs on my arm, grinning.
“Sorry. I’m a million miles away today.”
Her features soften. “Are you missing Myles?”
“Is it bad if I say not really?”
She giggles and swats my arm. “You’re so bad. Myles was dreamy.”
“Now who’s the space cadet?” I tease.
“You’re really not sad you’ve broken up?”
I shake my head as I finish curling my hair and switch off the iron. “I always knew he was traveling around Europe this summer, and I don’t want to be tied down at RU. It was a mutual decision, and we parted as friends.” Myles was a safe dependable choice, which was something I needed after Zayn Becker wreaked havoc on my heart. But Myles never set my heart on fire like Zayn did, and it always had an end date. I don’t regret my decision to date him. He helped me through one of the toughest times of my life, and I will always be grateful to him.
“Girl, what’s taking so long?” Uma says, sauntering into the staff room wearing her impatience on her face. “We’ve got shotsto drink and boys to kiss.” She rubs her hands in glee and waggles her brows. “Come on. Chop-chop. You’re beautiful, and it’s time to go.”
“Have fun.” Azzy’s lower lip juts out, and I wrap my arms around her, hugging her close.
“Love you lots,” I mumble against her hair. “How about we grab a movie and a burger tomorrow after your shift ends?” Since I moved to full-time work for the summer, I’m on a Monday to Friday shift, and I have my weekends free. It’s mostly part-timers who work the weekends at the family-owned market.
“That’d be awesome.”
“It’s a date.” I extricate myself from her embrace. “Just clear it with the rents. Okay?”
She nods as Uma and I walk off arm in arm.
“You’re so good with her.” Uma waves at Stan behind the deli counter as we head toward the front door.
“She reminds me a lot of me at her age.”
“Have fun!” Martha calls out. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she adds, joking.
“Well, that leaves everything wide open for the taking,” Uma murmurs as she smiles at my boss.
I elbow her in the ribs. “Be nice.”
We take a left outside the store, heading in the direction of Pulse. It’s our favorite bar and the best place to be in Rydeville on a Friday night if you’re young. “I am being nice. There’s no way Martha would ever make plans to get drunk and have wild monkey sex with some random bad boy she picked up for the night, so we’re gold. The world is our oyster tonight.”
