I thought I had my shit together Can't lie, the pills are lookin' temptin' I thought that I was gettin' better No, I got better at pretendin'
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(Chapter TW's: Same as last chapter—depression, anxiety, underaged drinking, and disordered eating)
Reading it from her perspective, Percy could understand why she'd kissed some random hockey player at a party—she was depressed and lonely and needed a distraction from how much she missed him.
But that didn't stop it from stinging, or stop his stomach from clenching with uncomfortable jealousy.
He knew that he shouldn't be angry or jealous. Him and Cassie weren't even dating. But the thought of her kissing someone else—of someone else kissing her—made those emotions bubble under his skin and a sour taste take up residence in his mouth.
Gods, reading this was a bad idea, he thought, running a hand through his hair.
But he couldn't stop. It was like when Annabeth described being unable to put down a book at night because she had to finish the story.
He had to finish Cassie's journal. He had to finish this story.
It was like his arms physically wouldn't allow him to put it down. And so he continued reading.
Dear Someone,
Josh and I got into an argument last night. It started as what was supposed to be a regular conversation but quickly turned to him lecturing me and then turned into an argument.
He got mad at me for all of the driving and then for being rude to him and Courtney and not respecting their authority and then he got mad at me for the drinking—which he found about because he checked the alcohol fridge and found some of his favorite whiskey missing.
That must've been what him and Courtney were arguing about the other day.
For a few minutes, I sat there silently. I listened to him lecture me about the negative effects of drinking and how he was worried I might be developing a "unhealthy and codependent" relationship with alcohol. I rolled my eyes and continued typing out a text to Kate as he started talking about how he "understood what I was going through but that turning to something like alcohol is never the answer."
But eventually I couldn't keep biting my cheek.
I don't know why I chose that time to make a rude comment. Or why I chose to say that in the first place.
