Chapter 17
Alani
I know it’s going to be a terrible fucking day before I can even manage to open my eyes.
My body aches. The hell I’ve put it through the last several months seems to have finally caught up with me. I should be used to the hangovers by now, but I’m still surprised by them every fucking time.
I remember puking last night. That disgusting saving grace will make my recovery a little faster since I’m not going to have to deal with all of that trash in my system, but it’s still going to be bad.
I roll my head on my pillow, smelling the filth in my hair but feeling a little relieved that my bitch-ass roommate isn’t here.
Blakely is back on campus this semester, but her accident left her incapable of climbing the stairs.
She’s in a first-floor dorm room a few buildings over.
I went from having the best to the naggiest.
I have no clue why I even came back to school.
I barely passed my classes from last semester.
When I left this place in May, I was certain I’d never return.
I wanted to be an adult. I wanted to make money and just live, not spend hours a day studying and maintaining grades.
I got a job in McAllen and lived with Ayla and Nash.
It took all of two months to realize that doing that for any extended period of time was less appealing than school, so basically, I’m only here so I don’t have to live with my sister.
I’m slow to climb out of bed, having to sit on the edge and take deep breaths so I don’t get sick.
The walk to the shower room is even slower, and I only feel marginally better when I’m done.
At least my hair no longer smells like a dumpster, but my full body exhaustion doesn’t leave me with enough energy to fix it, so it ends up in a messy pile on top of my head.
I swipe my hand across the condensation on the mirror and stare at myself. Dark circles ring my eyes and my skin looks gaunt and unhealthy. I should care. I know I should, but I have to keep those feelings shoved down where I keep the memories of him.
I’m well aware the obsession I have with Donavan isn’t healthy.
The man himself isn’t healthy. He’s all things dark and dangerous.
Before meeting him, before that video of Ayla was sent, I would’ve never even imagined anything like him and the things he has to offer.
I knew I was missing something in my life, but until it was thrust in my face like it was, I never would’ve figured it out on my own.
I never would’ve tested those boundaries in such a dangerous way.
Now I can’t seem to help myself. I crave the darkness and danger. My body aches for some of that pain, some of the fear that goes along with being chased in the darkness, not knowing if I’ll make it back into the light alive.
As drunk as I was last night, I know he was here. I know he wasn’t a figment of my imagination, something I wanted so much that I dreamed him into reality.
I know he vowed to never see me again. I know he meant it, or at least he was trying to convince himself he meant it.
It could end up being true. He stayed away for months. It could be years this time.
As much as I want danger, I also know how safe I’ve been playing it by sticking here around campus. I know the risks are zero, but they’re also much lower than if I went into the city.
A thrill of possibility zings up my spine as I make it back to my room and grab my phone. My fake ID is good enough to get me into a bar. Plus, the kind of place I’d want to go really wouldn’t give a shit about how old the people inside are.
I search all around Austin, looking at the places with the lowest ratings, the ones the tourists feel inclined to spend time warning everyone else about.
I find several, many deemed dangerous by online reviewers because they weren’t impressed the second time around after trying to relive their youth by revisiting their old stomping grounds twenty years later.
I have to be cautious because there’s a very real chance that it’s age and maturity, the removal of rose-colored glasses, that may make them see things differently now versus when they were in college.
I find the place I plan to end up at tonight, hating how fucking expensive it’s going to be to get there because I’ll have to order a ride share.
Blakely used to let me borrow her car on occasion, but when she returned to campus this fall, she did so without her car.
With the torn ligaments in her right ankle, she hasn’t been able to drive and her parents were worried about it getting damaged just sitting in the parking lot for months.
I don’t bother worrying about how I look or if my clothes even match when I leave my dorm room. I don’t care about the looks I get and how those looks are now much different than they were my first two semesters here.
Before, I was the girl who turned heads and was approached because guys thought they had a chance. Now, I’m the one they seem to avoid. I don’t know if it’s my behavior or someone spreading rumors, but everyone seems to steer clear of me these days.
I’m fine with it honestly. My ability to placate people dwindled right along with my concern for my grades.
Ayla threatened to pull me from college, telling me that there’s no point in wasting the money on tuition if I’m only going to fail.
After that conversation, I was no more willing to give a shit than I did the mornings I purposely turned off my alarm for class.
Grabbing a tray, I step up to the counter, my stomach turning at the sight of everything.
Wanting to eat and knowing I need to are two very different things. I reach for a blueberry muffin but stop short. The streusel on top looks like mold, and there’s no way I can convince my brain otherwise. I end up with a granola bar and a soda, a breakfast of champions, I guess.
“Hey, I—”
Whatever Blaine was going to say falls away when I turn to glare at him.
I haven’t spoken to him since Donavan tied us up.
He made it very clear by his absence that he’d given up on whatever it was he wanted from me.
“Oh,” I say as I walk past him toward an empty table. “I exist to you now?”
“That’s not fair,” he says, following behind me despite my attempt to make it clear I have no interest in talking to him.
“Not fair?” I growl.
“We were friends,” he says, his tone sad.
I angle my head to the side. Is this guy for real right now?
“We were,” I agree. “I’d even go so far as to say that we were best friends. That is until you realized I wasn’t going to fuck you and then all of a sudden I wasn’t worth your time.”
He clamps his mouth closed.
“I just wanted to check on you,” he says rather than arguing what I know to be the truth. “There was talk about some scary tattooed man leaving your dorm last night.”
I stare at him, wondering what his fucking motive is right now. He’s gone months without speaking to me, and now all of a sudden he pops back up?
“It was Donavan,” I confirm. “But he won’t be coming back around.”
He doesn’t perk up as if he thinks he has a chance.
He stares at me as if he’s asked a question and is waiting for an answer.
I have no more to give him now than I did when he was falling over himself to please me.
Maybe I abused that friendship. Maybe I took too much and didn’t offer enough in return.
But at the same time, I’m never going to feel obligated, like I owe someone something because they’re nice to me, especially when they’re only being nice to get something in return.
Conditional friendships don’t interest me.
“It was nice seeing you, Blaine,” I tell him before walking away.
Tears sting the backs of my eyes when I hear his sigh of relief.