Page 18 of I Love You, It’s Ruining My Life

Nalini

Doesn’t sound like him.

The Terminator

Just take the tickets and go on vacation. You’ve earned it.

Nalini

I am NOT letting you get me an expensive hotel room!

It felt stupid, putting my foot down like this, and truthfully, a vacation sounded like a godsend. I hadn’t left the town, other than to run to some of the neighboring towns to go shopping or for doctor’s appointments, ever. My Mom didn’t believe in vacations; she thought they were a distraction from her work, and I never could afford them. Even an overnight trip was an expense I’d never justified.

My phone buzzed again, and I didn’t want Kameron to keep pushing. It didn’t matter that I wanted to go; what mattered was I couldn’t afford it. Noah and I'd never been close, and booking a hotel room for a near stranger seemed too out-of-the-ordinary for the most reserved of the brothers.

The Terminator

Noah has more money than he knows what to do with. And his friend is apparently so desperate for anyone to see this show Noah’s willing to foot the bill. It doesn’t really matter that it’s you; it’s that someone is going.

I hated to admit that did sound like Noah. He was reserved, but he was loyal and supportive of the people he cared about. So, if a friend needed butts in seats at a weird theater production, he'd find a way to fill them.

Nalini

Fine. But I’m only staying one night.

Kameron immediately sent over the information, and I looked around my apartment. There were dirty clothes everywhere, and dishes I’d been putting off because of how tired I was. Thankfully, the play wasn’t until tomorrow, so I could make today a chores day, but it still felt almost stressful — like everything now had a deadline. I’d thought my break was for resting, but it turned out vacations were another type of stress.

Which I added to my reasons, I never planned on going on one ever again.

Despite NYC being four hours away from Briar Hill, most people only went to the airport. Instantly, I was blown away by how alive the city was. The blinking lights, the streets full of cars, the conflicting sounds and smells. I was both in wonder and completely overstimulated.

I could see why people loved it; I could see why nobody from home came here. I'd never both loved and hated a place with my entire being before. It was too bright, too loud, and too expensive. And yet, there was a charm to watching people walk everywhere like we weren’t in one of the biggest cities in the world.

My hotel, which I was still convinced came from Kam, was nestled in the theater district. I’d thought about exploring, but I was slightly anxious walking around by myself was a great way to get pulled into a dark alley and become the next subject of a True Crime documentary.

Besides, I had things I wanted to do. I’d packed the typewriter, and if I was going to be forced to relax, I was going to try and actually write something. Not the stream of consciousness word vomit I’d been writing. Not my sad attempts at poetry. Something that had meaning. I’d finally remembered why I loved writing, but I’d gotten to the point I was tired of writing nonsense down and instead wanted it to mean something.

I sat down by the window of my hotel room, looking out over the city. The view was terrible, and it was a budget chain — which only made me suspect Kam really had been the one to book it. I'd been free with his money before, but I didn’t want to keep using him like a credit card. I’d have to figure out a way to pay him back for this.

And then I realized, he’d once again become Kam.

Kameron was one of the few people I knew who preferred his full name, unless you were one of the ones he permitted to call him “Kam.” I’d been surprised he’d chosen it for his celebrity persona. Probably because Jack had wanted it — Jack, Kam, and Noah flowed better than the alternative. And the day anyone called Jack by his full name of “Jackson” would be the day hell froze over. But from the moment the song went viral, I'd stopped calling him by his nickname. It felt too close to forgiveness, but now that I was actively trying to forgive him, was this a good sign? Was it healthy for me to slip back into calling him by his nickname? Was it a sign my crush was coming back?

I did not want to deal with the “I-told-you-so’s” from Misty. Not that it changed anything — it was obvious from what was going on with Cassidy’s teacher that dating was justifiably not on his radar.

Butterflies started to play around in my stomach, and I realized my crush had come back with a vengeance. I’d hated him, but it worked well as a mask for my feelings. They were the reason I’d never kicked him out of the library or blocked his number. I still had a giant crush on Kameron Raine, and it was once again the worst possible thing I could do.

And despite everything, it was for reasons so different from when we were younger. It showed exactly how much I’d paid attention since he moved back, despite my insistence I hadn’t. I was impressed by how untouched he was by his former rockstar life. How he could admit when he was wrong, how he'd try to make it right. How he cared about Cassidy more than life itself, and wanted to do everything right by her.

Even the touch of sadness he had around him, the grief, the way he worked hard to allow those feelings to exist without letting them consume him. It showed he was willing to work on himself. I hadn’t expected to consider “goes to therapy” as an attractive trait in a man, but it turned out that was one of the hottest things they could do.

I sighed, not that it even mattered. But I guessed it mattered to me. To know where I stood with my emotions instead of trying to avoid thinking about them. Like I'd spent years doing, putting my life in a little box where I couldn’t get hurt. Maybe I needed to actually go back to therapy myself. And maybe, I needed to be a little more like Kam.

I stared at the blank sheet of paper in front of me, and the words didn’t come. There was a story to be told of my pain, one that came from the damage the song did. But it was a story I wasn’t sure of yet — I wanted it to be something that helped people understand my life, without it being about my life.

I sat in front of the typewriter with my thoughts for entirely too long before I decided it was time to track down something to eat. In the back of my mind, I was afraid I was going to be noticed as soon as I left the hotel. After all, I could blame money all I wanted, but my real reason for never leaving Briar Hill was the town worked as my security blanket. And here I was, walking down the street of New York City, and nobody gave me a second glance.

While I hadn’t expected to be swarmed, I didn’t expect to be invisible. To find out I could walk in a city of people like this and never once have them attack me for what happened to Jack? To find out, I could give my name to a restaurant, and all the waitress said was how it “was really pretty.”