The Checklist (Explicit Version)

Chapter 19

CHAPTER XIX
Confrontation

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   I spent the following two days in bed. No matter how hard I tried to get up and be productive, my thoughts fought against the peace I desperately wanted. So I sank beneath my covers and stayed there. Luckily, I managed to saunter toward the bathroom when I needed.

   Myles doesn't want you, the voice in my head said, every time it found a moment of weakness. He never wanted you. Not as a friend. And not as a—

   I squeezed my eyes together, but my efforts were in vain. My reaction only encouraged the voice to continue.

   No one wants you, Althea. Not Remi. Not your parents. Not Myles.

   You're better off alone.

   No matter how hard you try, no one will love you.

   People are better off without you.

   You're a means to an end.

   You're worthless.

   Unimportant.

   Watching Disney movies didn't help. My colouring books didn't relieve my stress. If anything, colouring the curse words made my mood worsen, because all I could think about was Myles and his crude vocabulary. So, I was left to my own devices. I rotted away in bed.

   Thankfully, I stopped crying—it stopped the minute I got home from my meeting with Lillian, after I looked at myself and was met with my beet red face. I hated that Myles got to me when Remi hadn't. The boy I'd known for almost a decade hadn't surprised me as much as Myles. That should have been a red flag, right? That I hadn't expected Myles to play with me the way he did.

   "I wanted to get closer to him through you."

   He used me. This entire time, I thought we'd been using each other equally, as friends. But no. He knew who I was from the beginning. He approached me at the bar, knowing who I was. He didn't confirm it, but he didn't deny it either. Everything was a lie. I'd broken my strict rules for him. I defended him to everyone. I started feeling—

   Grabbing a handful of my comforter, I twisted it into my grip until I felt it pinching my skin. Nothing. I felt nothing.

   A soft knock on the door pulled me away from my sinking thoughts. Laying on my side, I struggled to tip my head toward the door before bending my legs.

   "Come in," I muttered, not bothering to wait to see if they heard me before shutting my eyes.

   It seemed that the intruder had, because a moment passed before the door cracked open. Face numb, I opened my eyes to see a pained Nellie idling by the entrance, holding a mug. She didn't seem happy that I was in pain. Truthfully, I was surprised she hadn't told me 'I told you so.'  I'd been expecting it, after telling her the spark notes version of what happened when I got home that day.

   "Hi, hun," she whispered before hesitantly treading closer. Her nearly black eyes glowed with worry, despite her cautious steps; as if she was expecting me to erupt. It wasn't until her attention fell to the nightstand, did I realize why she'd been nervous.

   I had a barely eaten bowl of mac and cheese sitting there. She made me food last night, but as much as I tried to scarf it down, I couldn't eat without feeling sick.

   "I made you tea."

   Her soothing voice stupidly made tears sting my eyes, but my expression remained blank as I weakly sat up, the blanket falling onto my lap. Her eyes glided over me warily before handing me the mug.