COMPLETED
Penn State University.
Home to the craziest sorority girls, most obnoxious football players, and a possible Vice President's son.
Sloane Beck wants nothing more than to have her cheating ex-boyfriend crawl back to her.
Blake Day wants not...
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Blake Day
I was drowning. I was drowning in self-hatred. I was drowning in self-doubt. I was drowning in everything that I was. I was drowning—dying to get out.
I was drowning in the hope that she'd understand. I was drowning in the love that I held for her. I was drowning in my heartbreak. But I felt like I deserved to suffer.
She was probably drowning because of me too.
I punched the bag harder, without the gloves letting my knuckles crack. Who needed knuckles for football when you had no plans to continue playing in the future? I had everything—I had everything I could've ever wanted.
Except her.
I had money, I had fame, I had the glory—but what is the point in drowning in success if your lonely when you have it.
The sweat was cascading down my torso.
She was probably somewhere—crying. She was probably somewhere wishing she was dead.
The only reason I knew this? Because we were more alike than I had expected.
Right after she left me in her hotel room—I destroyed it. Absolutely destroyed the room. The mirrors were shattered, the tv broke in two, the lamps were thrown across the room—but the most broken thing in the room? Me.
The kicker? I caused everything to be broken. As usual.
I laid another punch combo on the bag—beating the shit out of it, imagining it was me.
I really fucked up. Really fucked up.
But could you blame me though? The only thing I hadn't ever fucked up was my friendship with Matti. Because he knew me from the beginning—he knew everything about me. I hated opening up to new people because it would always end in pain and flames.
She didn't deserve that.
The bag wasn't enough, I moved to the side and landed my fist right into the gym mirror—letting the glass settle in my knuckles—letting the blood drip—letting my tears fall out of my eyes.
