No.
Fuckthat.
I get up and go fetch my phone from the kitchen, sneaking past the den so no one spots me. I hear girls talking and giggling inside. A rom-com playing on the television.
For a moment, I wish I was inside that room, doing my nails and pretending I was just a normal college girl. That my biggest problem was deciding which color polish would go best with my outfit, which boy to kiss tonight, how drunk to get.
Can’t even remember when I last wore nail polish. Can’t remember when I last considered myself a normal girl.
Maybe never.
I kept to myself, because that was easier than pretending I had a stable home, clothes that weren’t trash, and a house I could invite my non-existent friends over to.
No one wants to hang out with trailer trash while their dad hits a meth pipe in the other room.
Moments later, I’m back in my bed, under the sheets, with the bedroom door closed. My phone goes haywire with missed calls and texts when I turn it back on. Melissa, wanting to know where the hell I am, if I’m safe, please just call her. A text that I’ve been approved for a $10,000 student loan with a super low interest rate, which I’m pretty sure is some kind of scam.
And a message from the same unknown number that messaged me last night at the gala.
UNKNOWN
Call me. We need to talk.
It’s Kai.
The last was sent minutes later, as if he’d realized I don’t have his number and might not know who the hell wanted to talk to me.
I stare at the screen as if it might bite me.
Likehemight.
Part of me wants to type back something nasty. Something to remind him that last night wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t sweet. It was a collision—one I should never have survived, and definitely shouldn’t want to repeat.
My thumbs hover over the keyboard.
@lee.haven
DON’T FUCKING CONTACT ME
I type it. Read it back. Erase it.
Too tame.
Too careful.
He doesn’t get careful from me anymore.
@lee.haven
BURN IN HELL
I hit send before I can second-guess it, then hold down the power button until the screen goes black, swallowing him with it.
The silence afterward is so loud it almost hurts.
I drop the phone on the nightstand like it’s something dirty, yank the covers over my head, and pretend, for just a second, I’m a normal college girl.
But I can’t, because normal’s never been in my fucking vocabulary.
