I fall on my back on the bed and try to breathe through the tears that come to me unbidden. I don't want them, never asked for them. I couldn't even tell you what I was crying over or why. I just do. Every night, I lay here and I try to find something in myself to live for. Every night, I fail and wonder if I need a guy like Rick to show me the way. But then, I'm a big girl, and a feminist, too, so why do I think a guy could save my soul?
I never thought to wonder if I was looking at it the wrong way, if maybe it wasn't a guy that I was looking for, just a person. And maybe I didn't need them to save my soul, just to give me the other half of it. Maybe that was it?
2
The next morning I wake up and have to force myself out of bed. It's a weekend which makes things so much worse. On days when I have class, I have a purpose, an obligation that I have to fulfill. On weekends, I just wait around for something to happen. Today, my roommate comes home early looking happier than usual. I wonder if she scored with the other chick, but I hope not. If so, then she's setting herself up for failure because that girl, whose name I don't know, is the type that grows up and looks for a guy like Rick. They get married and have babies and think they're happy because that's what people like Rick and this other girl do. They think they're happy because they don't know any better. I do. Not because I know what it's like to be happy, but because I know what it's like to be miserable. If you live your whole life in the darkness, then you don't have any trouble recognizing the light.
“There's a party at one of the frat houses tonight, do you want to go?”
“Which one?” I ask. Lacey, my roommate, doesn't know because she doesn't give a shit about frat houses. She doesn't give a shit about men at all. I wish I was like her. Maybe if I was into girls, I'd have an easier time falling in love with someone that wasn't a complete piece of shit? But then again, Rick isn't a complete piece of shit, and I don't want to fall in love with him either.
Lacey shrugs and takes off her sweater, tossing it over her computer chair.
“It's tonight at six, do you want to go?”
“Any party that starts at six is a party that I'm not interested in,” I tell her as I stand up and stretch. Lacey gives me a weird look, and I notice that my skirt's ridden up a bit. I push it down and gather up some clothes. I feel disgusting. I didn't change last night, and I can feel that guy's sweat all over me.
“Come with me, please,” Lacey begs, and I know she's afraid to go alone because her girlfriend might ignore her and run off with some frat boy. It's happened before. “I'll give you twenty bucks.”
“Keep your money,” I tell her as I grab a towel and the basket that holds my shampoo. “I'll go, okay? I'll meet you here tonight.”
“Five thirty,” Lacey says to me with a smile as she brushes a comb through her pretty, blonde hair. “I don't want to be late.” I try not to roll my eyes and tell her that nobody gives a fuck if you're late to a frat party.
“Sure,” I say as I leave the room in a hurry, rushing to get to the bathroom before everyone else does. There's this communal atmosphere that descends over the room when there's more than three girls in the bathroom at one time. I don't understand it, and it makes me uncomfortable. I never join in the conversation and have to use the stall at the very end, the one with the broken faucet, so I don't have to look at them looking at me and wondering what the hell is wrong.
I get to the bathroom just in time and manage to shower, get dressed, and put on makeup before anybody else comes in. When they do, they're all wearing blue and yellow face paint and talking about the game. I don't know if it's football or basketball or baseball, but what I do know is that it's an integral part of their lives that I don't understand. I leave as quickly as I can and head back to my room, toss my stuff on the floor next to my bed, and stand there for a very, very long time.
When I spy the book on the desk next to my bed, I feel a sense of relief. Reading. I can get lost in a world and spend days there. Besides, reading a book gives me a goal. It's that sense of purpose that puts a temporary bandage over my uncertainty and lets me waste away the rest of the day without anymore negative thoughts.
Books by C.M. Stunich
The Seven Wicked Series
First
Second
Third
Fourth
Fifth
Sixth
Seventh
Houses Novels
The House of Gray and Graves
The House of Hands and Hearts and Hair
The House of Sticks and Bones
The Huntswomen Trilogy
The Feed
The Hunt
The Throne
Indigo Lewis Novels
Indigo & Iris
Indigo & The Colonel
Indigo & Lynx
Never say Never Trilogy
Tasting Never
Finding Never
Keeping Never
Stand Alone Novels
She Lies Twisted
Hell Inc.
DeadBorn
Broken Pasts
Fuck Valentine's Day
About the Author
C.M. Stunich was raised under a cover of fog in the area known simply as Eureka, CA. A mysterious place, this strange, arboreal land nursed Caitlin's (yes, that's her name!) desire to write strange fiction novels about wicked monsters, magical trains, and Nemean Lions (Google it!). She currently enjoys drag queens, having too many cats, and tribal bellydance.
She can be reached at [email protected], and loves to hear from her readers. Ms. Stunich also wrote this biography and has no idea why she decided to refer to herself in the third person.
Happy reading and carpe diem!
www.cmstunich.com
Table of Contents
Warning
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1 - Good Cop, Bad Cop
Chapter 2 - What the Hell is This?
Chapter 3 - Girl Meets Stalker … I Mean, Boy
Chapter 4 - A Random Act of Fellatio
Chapter 5 - Random Sexual Acts Part Two or Andi Figures Out What She Wants – Sort Of
Chapter 6 - The Stalker's – I mean, Secret Admirer's – Identity Revealed (Was it that obvious all alo...
Chapter 7 - Preston Wants Me to WHAT?!
Chapter 8 - I Fucking Hate Candy Hearts
Hell Inc. Sample Chapter
Broken Pasts Sample Chapter
Tasting Never Sample Chapter
More Books By
About the Author
Fuck Valentine's Day Page 9
