Bad Taste (Part I) // Colby Brock

47 - Rebecca

          I literally shook my head to rid the thought. That was insane; it didn't make sense. There was no way the silver ring could mean anything if it was natural. What would I be suggesting? That they were something else? That just didn't exist in this world. That was impossible. I shook my head again, trying to forget. But I couldn't. I had to find out what Colby was — no, who he was.

He had to be a normal human, there was no argument about it.

"Can you tell me more about your group?" I asked casually. "The jobs you do?"

"No."

"Not even a little? I'm curious what you get up to."

He looked at me sharply, and I knew there was no point in pushing it. I sighed and put down the almost-empty food tub. I drank some coffee before shuffling across the couch to be close to him.

"I'm not giving you forever to tell me, Colby. And at some point I'm going to lose patience with you."

"I just can't tell you yet, Becks. I wish I could, it'd make everything easier."

"What's stopping you? I thought you were in charge."

He scowled. "Of my group, yes. And I set rules down to protect us."

I raised an eyebrow.

"I shouldn't tell you until... well, until I'm certain you won't walk away."

"And what does that mean?"

"Until you love me."

My heart leaped in my chest. I couldn't stop staring at his face. Love. I hadn't believed in it for so long; ever since I first saw my parents fighting. I knew that day that love didn't exist, because when you love someone, you're supposed to unconditionally stay with them; need them; cherish them. And I had never once seen anyone do that for another person. Whatever I hadn't seen, I couldn't believe in.

So to think that I had to fall in love with Colby to learn a secret I so badly wanted to learn, really didn't set in well.

"Love? Seriously? What kind of shit is that? Love doesn't even fucking exist so how am I supposed to fall into it?"

Something like hurt sat in Colby's expression as he stared at me silently. I felt the hurt oozing out of him; the pain. But he wasn't voicing it because he didn't want me to know. And I didn't want to know. If I knew he was hurting, there was no way I could say the things that I needed to say for my own sanity.

"Colby, are you really not going to tell me a damn thing until I love you? Because I don't love anyone and I never have. Wait, have you expected this from me the whole time?!"

He still didn't speak to me. I was seething for all the reasons I didn't want to admit. Because he wasn't fighting with me; he wasn't giving me a reason to change my mind. I needed him to give me a reason to kick him out of the apartment, otherwise I had nothing, and I might as well have just accepted the accelerated feelings in my stomach.

"Colby, I demand you fucking tell me right now. What are you even thinking? Why are you staring at me like that?"

"We're so alike," he whispered. "It's been about a week and we've fought more than every other couple in my group combined. I can't even call you my fucking girlfriend, Rebecca. We're driven by anger and despise the thought of falling in love; of surrendering."

My heart was pounding in my chest now. The inevitability of what was about to happen was killing me inside. I didn't want it to happen.

"You're right. We should never have thought this would work." My voice cracked at the end, and I had to look away so that I didn't tear up. My jaw was set.

"I want it to, for what it's worth."

"It's worth nothing," I snapped. My arms crossed over my chest and I kept my eyes on the balcony doors: I couldn't face him.

"It's worth fucking something because I have never even considered someone my girl before you, Rebecca. Don't downgrade it because you can't handle your emotions."

"I can't handle my emotions?! You punched one of your friends for calling me princess. I think you're the one with the problem here, not me." I spun to him now, ready to attack him if I needed to. "And have you forgotten that you've killed people? Yeah, I get angry sometimes. Never fucking taken someone's life."

That comment cut too deep. "You don't know the circumstances. Don't you dare use that against me again," he snapped.

"I won't ever get the chance. Get out of my apartment, Colby. This won't work between us."

His face twisted. There was guilt somewhere in there — I could feel some regret too — but he was mostly angry at me. And without each other, there was no way to calm ourselves but violence. A part of me dreaded what would happen when he got home and had so many punching bags to choose from. A part of me didn't give a shit.

I threw Colby's keys at him and stood up from the couch, stomping towards my bedroom. I barely heard anything before my door slammed. I stopped, turning to look at the couch where he had been seconds ago. My emotions rolled through me intensely, all angry. I found myself flying into my room and grabbing his backpack. I screamed as I threw it into the wall. It hit it with a thump and sunk slowly to the ground. I hit the ground a second later, my hands on my face.

The tears welled up before I could stop them this time. This was insane. We hadn't even known each other for a month yet I was about to cry like we'd dated for years and just broken up. One part of that was true: we had just broken up. We wouldn't work, and there was no point in going through the torment. I didn't think I could handle it anymore, even with the intense, passionate benefits that came with it.

I cried. I just couldn't stop it when the tears spilled out. After a moment, I stopped trying to stop it. I tucked my knees against my chest and laid my head with my hands down on them.

Never had I cried over a guy. This was my first example of why Colby was bad for me, besides everything else. And I just couldn't go through this. Not now, not ever.

We would never work, and we both had to face that. Now I didn't think we had a choice.

That was it.

We were over.