63rd St.

Chapter 8

"Athena?" he calls out.

"Yes Jasper?"

I internally curse myself. I wish I would have said something like 'No. Die.' Or at least something more like 'No. Shutup.'

But I can't. For some god-forsaken reason, I can't bring myself to stop him. I hate myself for it, and I hate him even more.

Why can't I give Andrew a break. I give him reasons to hate me even more with every passing day, and here I am, allowing other boys to flirt with me.

Shit, now I want to get even drunker than I am now. That's why I got drunk in the first place anyway.

Last night while I was asleep on the roof, I woke up from a call from Andrew. I didn't answer, but afterwards I saw that he'd called me 14 times. He was probably worried about me, and I was over here sleeping on the roof with another boy.

I left immediately after I saw how many times he'd called, and I tried to call him back but I couldn't get through. He didn't answer me at all.

I feel really bad about leaving Jasper in the middle of the cold night, but at the end of the day my loyalty lies with my boyfriend.

All day today, I've tried to call him, to no avail. I even walked to his house to apologize in person but his parents said he wasn't home.

So I walked back home and waited next to my phone, eyeing it for hours on end. It didn't ring. Or buzz. Absolutely radio silent.

As I was waiting for him, the guilt starting pouring in heavy. The thoughts and regrets of all the things I wish I didn't do.

So I drowned it all out the best way I knew how. Ketel One Vodka and Memphis Red Cigarettes.

I have the a pretty low alcohol tolerance possible, but one bottle is usually more than enough to do the job.

I'm not a sad drunk, I'm a touchy, giggly mess of a drunk, the alcohol washes all the sad thoughts away. Temporarily.

And the cigarettes. They don't give me a high, but the make my throat burn, a pain so good. A distracting pain, a pain that I deserve.

So I drank. And drank, and drank, and smoked, and drank some more.

And then I did the most counter productive thing I could have possibly done in that situation: I drunkenly walked over to this house, fully with the intention of seeing him here.

I'm convinced my drunken state has a mind of its own, because I would never in my right mind do something like that.

I was a little disappointed when I got here to see that he wasn't here, so I sat on the ledge for... fun. But he came quickly after that.

"I want to apologize." He says solemnly. My drunk mind takes a little too long to process that.

"For what exactly?"

"My behavior. I've realized that I need to respect your relationship."

The words coming out of his mouth sound amazing, but there is an unidentifiable glint in his eyes; somehow contradicting everything he's saying.

God this man is confusing.

"Um... Thankyou?"

"You're very welcome." He says with a smirk. "I have a peace offering, for my rudeness."

If I didn't have the slightest bit of self control, I would have smirked. Not out of interest, but of pure intrigue.

"Which is?"