COMPLETED. A university student. A professional hockey player. They've proved they can be friends. Can they be more?
Although they're both in their early twenties and living in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada, their lives couldn't be more different. Cami...
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I was an idiot.
A heartbroken idiot.
Worse, I was a mean, heartbroken idiot.
I had been so horrible to Angela that I completely deserved the M-label I was slapping on myself. I wish I could say that being mean like that was uncharacteristic of me, but there were a few times in my life where I'd get so angry and mad at my brother that I'd throw the most horrible things at him. Thankfully, those moments where I felt all control slip and my moral compass go haywire were few and far between now. But, evidently, they weren't quite extinct yet.
I'm punishing myself and wallowing in my guilt from how I treated Angela because right now that pain is surprisingly the lesser of the two that I'm currently dealing with. Because being angry at myself is a hell of a lot easier than being mad at Taylor.
Besides, I need a good distraction from what's on my computer screen.
When I got home from school a few hours ago, my mom wasn't home from work and my dad was working on something in the basement. Instead of going downstairs to greet him like I usually would have, I called out that I'd be in my room studying. He called back cheerfully, not suspecting a thing.
That may have changed when he heard the door to my room slam.
Even as mad as I was, I immediately washed my hands in the small bathroom attached to my bedroom because there's no way I could use public transportation and not do that as soon as I got home. While I was at it, I threw cool water onto my face.
It didn't work.
I was still there, and this wasn't a dream.
More like a nightmare.
My head was angry but my body was numb. It was a disconcerting combination. I was used to that feeling of boiling blood whenever I was upset, the tense muscles that refused to relax. But now, it was like all bodily sensations were shut down. I wasn't hungry and that was saying a hell of a lot considering I always came home from school ravenous.
I yanked my laptop out of its power cord in a way that my dad would get mad at me for, saying that he wasn't going to pay for a new one if I broke it.
There are bigger issues right now, Daddy.
Yeah, one of them being that I'm having conversations with you in my head.
As if on autopilot, I opened Google and typed in the stupidest thing that has ever been Google searched.
"Taylor Hudson sex"
God.
Stop.
What was I doing? What was I trying to find? Why?
Why was I trying to find evidence that Taylor had in fact—. Never mind, I can't even say it. It was too preposterous, too hurtful for me to finish that sentence.
