The Scars of Anatomy

31. Fight

I stay in the shower long after the water turns cold. Until not only my brain but my body is numb, too.

When I finally find the energy, I turn off the water and dry off, managing to slip on some new clothes and pad back down the hall to my room. Once inside, I lean back against the door and slide down the wood, sitting on the floor and bringing my knees up to my chest.

I examine my busted up knuckles, the cuts starting to scab over after the brutal clashing against rat boy's face, the brick wall, and another round of punches thrown at the tiled wall of the shower.

My eyes drift up my arms to the scars on my forearms. The cigarette burns that were placed there by one of my mom's cruel ex boyfriends, still haunting me.

Anger bubbles up inside me again and I slam my fists down on the ground.

I hate the power these stupid scars still hold over me, no matter how much I pretend they don't. I hate the man that put them there. I hate my mother for being such a shitty parent. I hate my entire childhood. I hate being such a fuck up. I hate everything and everyone. Myself included.

Not since I was a child have I felt so confused, so lost, so... broken.

All my life, people have come and gone. I got so use to it, so use to only depending on myself. No one ever cared for me—except for maybe Lexi, but I lost her, too—and I learned to live with that. Learned to cope. Learned to not need anyone. To want anyone. To be alone.

But God do I need her. 

I've never cared about anyone or anything before. And I certainly never had anyone care for me, not like she has. Sure girls have been interested in me, thrown themselves at me, but they only cared about one thing. Sex. Or they saw—fantasized—me as some project. Something they can fix to have potential and be a version of something only they can love. Something that can love them back.

With Olivia, I wasn't a challenge—some project. I never felt like she was trying to fix me, even though I'm beyond broken. She cared for me despite my flaws and always looked at me as if she understood. With her, I naturally want to be better, even though I know I'll never measure up to be someone she deserves.

But I love her.

I've never loved anyone before, and it scares the absolute shit out of me. No one has ever wormed their way into my heart like she has. And she didn't even try.

From the moment I set eyes on her, I knew she was special. I was hooked the second those honey colored eyes met mine and she gave me a smile. Then I found out how smart, sweet, funny, caring... perfect she is.

I feel like Olivia McCausland was made for me. That she walked into my life to steal my heart, only to break it. But maybe I deserve it.

Because I don't deserve her.

Olivia and I are total opposites of each other. She's the sweet girl next door with the perfect life and family, while I'm the angry, messed up son of a bitch with mommy issues that couldn't seem to keep it in my pants my whole college career. But somehow we're like magnets, two polar opposites attracted to each other by force, like it or not. 

I sit on the floor for hours, staring up at the popcorn ceiling until the sun starts to set, lost in my own dark, self-loathing, and pitiful thoughts.

Finally, I manage to get up to get some proper blood flow back to my body, my limbs stiff and my ass sore for sitting on the floor for so long. I scrub a hand over my face, moving down to my chest, rubbing there, too. Trying to ebb the pain. But the thought of losing her crashes into my mind again, making me restless.