Playing His Game

Chapter Thirty-Five pt.2 | Streets of Love

Thirty-Five
Part Two:

AP Psychology has taught me a lot over the course of my senior year. Defense mechanisms, for instance, first founded and expanded on by Freud, are defined as unconsciously operating defenses that help ward off unpleasant feelings and memories.

After my last conversation with Trent, I had quickly found my personal favorite of the 12. Repression is a defense mechanism employed by the subconscious to keep disturbing or threatening thoughts from becoming conscious.

In other words, you lock all the painful shit that you just can't deal with away in a drawer and keep it shut tight in the back of your mind.

It seemed to be working for me relatively well throughout the month of January. I locked away my memories of what had gone on between me and Trent, all the while making a conscious effort to go out with my friends more, even to the parties that they begged me to attend almost every weekend. But, since I already had quite a troubled history with it, I'd stayed far away from any and all alcohol.

I even stayed true to my word to Trent, smiling and waving at him in greeting everyday in US government like a good friend would do. He didn't like that, for some reason, and had quickly changed seats to where he was on the other side of the room. I was secretly relieved.

My friends seemed overjoyed that I was finally me again, happy and seemingly carefree. Surprising all of them, and myself, too, I even agreed to go out on a date with Will's cousin when Lily offered to set us up.

His name was Gabriel and he went to a different school than us, which was a breath of fresh air, really. He had been really sweet during our basic date of dinner and a movie (not to mention gorgeous, with chocolate brown eyes and smooth skin that matched). It turned out I wasn't really ready for any form of dating so soon, which is why it hadn't ended up going any further than that, but I figured my effort had to count for something.

Lauren was the only one who wasn't overjoyed with my bouncing back. Sometimes I would catch her looking at me in a way that was almost...disappointed, especially when her brother was in the same room as us. I would try to appease her with a grin, letting her know that whatever she was bothered by, I wasn't.

My grades were soaring, as I had been throwing myself into studying fervently, so it felt extra rewarding to begin February by opening an acceptance letter from USC.

All in all, my life seemed to be returning back to its usual, boring self. It wasn't until Valentine's Day that things started going downhill.

...

It was a cold morning that was sure to get worse, judging by the storm clouds I spotted through my bedroom window.

I yawned and rolled off of my bed, searching for an appropriate outfit for such weather. I had barely dressed myself in a pair of black leggings and green army jacket, and was just tying the laces of my boots, when a knock sounded at my door.

I shut the door to my closet, traveling the small distance across the room to let my mom in. "Happy Valentine's Day, sweetie," she said with a loving smile, holding out a small, stuffed bear with a red heart sewn into its hands.

"Thanks, mom," I grinned, taking the bear. I stroked my thumb over its face affectionately before tossing it onto my bed. It was most likely the only present I'd be receiving that day.

"So...I have some bad news for you." She sounded more hesitant, and even without facing her, I knew she was twisting her red hair nervously.

I turned back from my bed to look at her. "What is it?"