Broken

• Chapter 163 •

The next day, Aya drags me to the most beautiful places in Amsterdam. The city is lively and uplifting, despite myself, I can't seem to enjoy any of it. But I pretend to, for her. Looks like I need a drink after all.

"You might wanna slow down on those drinks!" Aya warns me.

"What?" I ask her as I pound back another shot.

I find myself drowning in liquor the second we walk into the bar, and I am so thankful for the European drinking age. I've never craved alcohol so much. The more I drink, the less I feel, the less I remember, the happier I am.

"This is so much fun!" I slur.

Aya sighs, "Oh boy..."

I stumble and fall over when some idiot bumps into me, and my drink spills all over my dress.

"I'm so sorry, are you all right?" the guy turns to me. A cute British boy. Of course. Every American girl's weakness.

I groan, "Well I'd rather drink my shot than wear it, but I'll be fine."

He laughs, "My sincerest apologies. Let me buy you a drink."

I cock my eyebrow, "You hitting on me after accidentally bumping into me and spilling my drink?"

He frowns. "Oh, it wasn't accidental, love," he shakes his head and puts his elbow up on the counter, leaning towards me as if he's about to tell me a naughty secret, "I deliberately made you spill that drink in order to have an excuse to buy you another one."

"Cause just offering to buy me another one like a normal person would've been too hard?" I deadpan.

He nods, "Precisely. Taking your clothes off sounds a lot more appealing when they're wet and sticky."

I snort and resist the urge to laugh. Aya smiles and waggles her eyebrows at me from behind him. "Okay, Clem! I'm gonna go find a hottie of my own," she winks before walking away from us.

The man laughs, then turns back to me. "I'm interpreting that as approval from the friend to buy you that drink?" he cocks his head.

I look him up and down and sigh, "How old are you, anyway?"

"Twenty-three. Yourself?"

I shrug, "Eighteen."

He smirks, and his eyes land on my tits. "Fantastic. You're legal, and I'm assuming single?"

It's as though a dagger has been plunged into my heart. All of a sudden, I'm mad and defensive.

"None of your damn business."

He raises his hands in mock-surrender, "Woah, relax. I was just making an inquiry."

"So first you spill my drink, ruin my dress, then you make stupid assumptions based on what? Your desire to sleep with me? You must be popular with the ladies," I roll my eyes at him as I stand from my seat on the barstool and prepare to find Aya. I wanna get out of here, stupid boy ruined my buzz.

He laughs and chases after me, grabbing my arm, "Hey hey hey, I'm sorry. I really am. I didn't mean to offend you, and you're right. I just find you extremely attractive, and I know you find me attractive. So just let me buy you a drink and try to make up for my asshole-ness?"

I frown as I study him. The emptiness and numbness start creeping back, and I so desperately don't want them to.

"Come on... It's Amsterdam. Lighten up," he flashes me a sheepish grin.

I shake my head and roll my eyes at him, "Fine." Hope he's prepared to go broke because my ass needs to get drunk.

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"Well damn, didn't peg you for such a wild card," he laughs. It's an hour in, I'm hammered, and I'm having fun. Suddenly, British boy looks extremely attractive.

"You haven't seen shit, yet," I breathe as I grab a hold of his face and kiss him with solid determination. I feel detached and numb, I'm not enjoying this as much as I want to be.

He doesn't make me feel things I felt when I kissed Ashton—

I freeze. Something ugly boils up inside of me, I'm suddenly enraged that he has crossed my mind. I angrily scrunch up my face, pressing my body against his and bruising his lips with mine. He laughs softly and pulls away for a moment, hands to my waist. "Mind slowing down a bit?" he glances around, "We are in a public place, you see... However, I would very much like to continue this. Perhaps somewhere more private? I'm about five minutes away, what do you say?"

I head for the door, "Let's go, now."

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"So this is my—"

"Stop talking," I whisper as I mold our lips together and tug at his clothes.

I don't want to talk. I don't want to do anything but act on my impulses and drown every single memory and thought of Ashton Ashford. I jump on him, grabbing his face and forcing myself onto him. Unlike at the bar, he reciprocates my actions. He pulls me close, wrapping my legs around his waist. His hands cling to either side of my hips, nails softly digging into my skin.

He leads me to his bed, setting me down as he climbs on top of me. I'm enjoying this a lot more now. Thank God for alcohol. My hands intertwine in his blonde hair. Ashton has blonde hair... But of course, his is softer and has more variations of blonde that turn into light browns—

I catch myself thinking about him once more, but this time the thoughts don't anger me. They sadden me. Waves of pain wash over me as memories of our times together flash in my brain. The stranger begins kissing my neck, stopping as his hair catches in my bracelet.

"Ouch," he scoffs.

I smile sheepishly and look down at his hair, realizing what's caught to it. The bracelet Ashton gave me, the one I still haven't taken off. My heart bursts, and I break. Tears stream down my face, I'm not aware of what's happening. The hot English guy hovers above me, startled by my sudden outburst.

"Are you... All right?"

The tears are accompanied with beautiful snorts and whimpers now. Fabulous. Pathetic. You're completely pathetic, Clementine. He hesitantly stands, confused as to what to do. He has a hormonal crying TEENAGE girl in his bed. Bet he feels like he hit a new low, huh?

"S-s-sorry," I sob, "I—I don't kn-know what's w-wrong—I can't d-do th-this."

He presses his lips together awkwardly. "Maybe I should take you back to your hotel?" he suggests.

I nod, trying hard to stop the sobs. I pathetically pick up my things, ashamed of myself for being such a fucking moron. He shakes his hair while looking at me weirdly, then sighs. He gives me a few glances as he awkwardly puts his clothes back on. Then, he picks up his car keys and leads me out.