October 15, 2014
My morning classes were rescheduled for the afternoon, allowing me a few extra hours of sleep that I didn't know I needed. I got to watch a few hours of daytime television, which was mostly infomercials still repeating from the night.
I packed on concealer to cover the dark circles under my eyes, added a little bit of blush to liven me up, winged my eyeliner to perfection, and coated my lashes with mascara. My hair was still loose in waves from the previous night, so I left it as it was. I slipped on a pair of fresh light wash skinny jeans that cut off at the ankles, a boyfriend V-neck that was black, my shirt had to represent my current feelings. The oversized dark gray cardigan I wore made me feel so cozy I could cry. Or maybe I wanted to cry because I was actually sad. I settled my feet into my usual black ankle boots before layering necklaces and rings to complete the look. I checked my appearance in the bathroom mirror and I didn't look half bad for someone who wanted to spend all day inside crying.
It was pushing a month that Ashton and I called things off and every day that passed I was not okay. I felt like a walking consumption of depression. Nothing appealed to me and I spent a lot of time in a bad mood. I had snapped at many people and had had to make many apologies.
I sat at my dining table that had too many extra seats. I aimlessly stirred my cup of coffee while I responded to a few text messages. I hadn't bothered to look at my phone until now. There wasn't a point. I rarely had any notifications anymore. My only calls were from my parents or occasionally Luke, all making sure that I was doing okay and obviously I lied to them. I could't worry them, not while I was here. They would ask me to go back to California straight away.
I breathed in the stale air of my sadness. I sat stuck in the gloom as I pictured Ashton sitting across from me at this table a few months ago, having dinner with me. It seemed like just yesterday we were in this setting. I shook my head clear of Ashton like an etch a sketch. Then I began to reflect on Sarah.
What sparked the random visit? Was I really in her way of corrupting Ashton that she had to come threaten me? I was unable to recognize her intentions.
I could say she did have me on my toes since she came over. Every corner I crossed, every path I walked I was spending more time making sure she was not in arms length of me than worrying about anything else.
What god could I pray to, to have surety that she wasn't hurting Ashton? Was there a specific god for that? The Greeks had a god for everything. Maybe I could ask my mom or stop by a book shop later. I was being ridiculous now.
I grabbed the belongings I was sure to need today; cigarettes, lighter, keys, my English paper, my phone, and my sanity. I shoved everything in my backpack, except the cigarettes and lighter. I'd be able to finish at least one stick before reaching my destination.
October afternoons were chilly, but sunny, so that made up for a lot. I inhaled the smoke and it burned my throat. For a change I was feeling a different sort of pain. Remind me to thank the person who made these deadly things.
"You know those things are bad for you, right?" I rolled my eyes in the direction of the voice. Dick stood, leaning against the building of our apartment, puffing on his own stick. He was such a pretentious hypocrite. He looked like a mix between creeper and hot bad boy from a 1950s film in his leather jacket.
Actually, no. He looked like a full-on creeper.
I had dodged any run in with him since the Sarah scene. I didn't want to speak about it to anyone, but if I had to, I didn't want Dick to be the person I told.
"Are you convincing me or yourself?" I scoffed, flicking the ashes in his direction, some landing on his jeans.
"A bit of both." He tossed his cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his shoe as he lifted his back from the concrete. "You late to class?"
