I knew it was a game. Damn but a good game it was for as long as it lasted.
"Let me go." I whisper.
He stares at me. His face turning so cold. "Fine." He says letting up on the grip of my arm.
"I'm done playing this game."
...
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Waking up the next day was hell on earth.
My bitchy self decided to drink way too much last night. All because I wanted to let loose for one night and regret it the following morning.
I sat on the floor of the shower. The warmth of the hard beads of water hitting my skin dissolved all the anguish I had felt when I woke up. But it didn't help simmer the thoughts and recollection of memories from last night's encounter with Mason.
I could feel myself shudder just as I remembered his lips upon mine. How good they felt to be there. How he grabbed me and talked to me differently when he had no clue who I was. Maybe it was that Mason didn't find me attractive to kiss. So the shocked look on his face was doomed to be out of disgust of kissing me. When they're was everyone else in the world.
Now, I like how I look currently but it doesn't mean people don't get underneath my skin and make me climb back up the tree. Where I sit scared because maybe I was just too cocky to see how I really looked. No, I'm not anything spectacular like the woman in magazines or social media. No I'm not some Megan Fox, Blake Lively or Scarlett Johansson.
I'm Anastasia Camille White. Someone who just kissed their boss last night.
I got out of the shower and put on a tank top and a pair of athletic shorts. I yawned before walking down the stairs of my parents house. I stayed here last night after Cassie drove us here. I was in no shape to drive.
I went to the kitchen where my mother was. She leaned over the counter with her eyes closed. She looked thin and hungry. She didn't look well at all and I hated that. I hate every fucking thing about cancer. The way it makes people weak, it makes them not have an appetite, it makes them constantly tired.
"How are you this morning mother?" I asked. She didn't lean up or even open her eyes. I sighed. "Here." I said handing my mother her glass of water that was sitting by her hands. I had assumed it was hers anyways.
She finally stood up taking a sip of the water. "Thanks." Her voice was weak. She placed her cup down, throwing out coughs. "How was the—" she breathed in sharply. "Party. How was the party."
I shrugged my shoulders. "A party." I laugh slightly.
"Did you meet anyone?" She asked me.
My eyes widened slightly. I swallowed the building saliva in my mouth. "No. Just ended up kissing someone." I mean it's not a lie.
"We're they cute?" A smile grew on her face.
I couldn't help but return the smile. "I don't know. I couldn't see him clearly." And there goes my lie. I said I don't like to lie to my mother but it doesn't mean I haven't or won't occasionally.
