We can even go to the range like old times. It's been boring going alone and no matter how much I bug Grace she still refuses to come with me.
Chris
Or if not this break, maybe we can plan ahead for Christmas?
Guilt eats at me as I skip past the convo with Chris to find the one with my classmate, Maisie. I can't answer Chris right now because I have no fucking clue what the next several days look like, let alone Christmas.
But maybe Maisie's still awake and we could finally go grab that drink. Anything to keep from sitting here driving myself insane.
The previous message from her was a not-so-subtle attempt to convince me to go to some frat party with her this weekend, so I deal with that first.
Aurora
Hey! I can't this weekend, but if you're free now I was thinking we could grab a drink?
The three dots dance over the screen and then vanish.
I think she's probably pissed at me for never wanting to check out the campus parties and won't reply, but a second later a message pops onto the screen.
Maisie
Can't tonight, sorry! You know that guy Bailey from our Intro to Music Business class? His friend Trip asked me out. I'm meeting him at that new tequila bar everyone's been talking about. Send good vibes!
Oh, I will.
If 'Trip' has the same vibe Bailey did, she's going to need the extra good vibes to balance out their shit ones.
Aurora
Okay! Be careful. Text me if you need an escape route.
Maisie
You're so paranoid. I'll be fine! See you tomorrow xx
I lower my phone and eye the front door.
Now what?
"Fuck."
I rock back on my heels. Shake my head. Taste blood from chewing on my lower lip.
"Ugh." I grab the keys and laundry basket before I can change my mind, snagging my warmer jacket from the hook by the door as I exit and lock up behind me.
This is a bad idea.
This issucha bad idea.
But maybe this needs to happen. We need to hash this the fuck out.
They need me and I have to work with him to get this done.
I need to lay out some clear lines for him and tell him exactly what will happen if he crosses them. It doesn't mean I'm weak. And it doesn't mean I'm letting him get away with what he did or that I'll ever let him touch me again. It's the adult thing to do.
I'm about to press the button to unlock my car when the keys slip out of my fingers and land in a muddy patch next to the walkway.
"Great," I groan, bending to pluck them from the muck. I shake the mud off and something catches my eye. A boxy black shape in the wheel well of my front passenger tire makes me pause. I tip my head to the left, trying to get a better look at what it could be.
