If love feels euphoric, and obsession is a state of enrapture, how can you ever trust your feelings to know the difference?
These questions plague me as I sit parked across the street from a mansion. My Audi is tucked behind a hedge of bushes in front of a neighbor’s yard. I’m concealed by night and ridiculous shrubbery. The t
hump of bass pulses from within the gigantic house. Throngs of people are gathered around the side and backyard. Lights dance over the pool and patio.
A sinking feeling stirs in the pit of my stomach as I watch the house. It reminds me of my parents’ home. I hardly consider it mine, or a home, even though I grew up there. Like this one, it was all hard angles and cold stone. Beautiful and impressive, but void of character.
My parents didn’t spend enough time there to imprint any personality. And when they died, leaving me the house and a sizable insurance payout, the first thing I did when I turned eighteen was put the house on the market.
I sigh out a lengthy breath, releasing the memory. I check my phone before placing it in the console. According to the social media posts I’ve been following—stalking—this is Alister’s house. He’s some ex-football god/IT guru, and his place is party central just about every weekend.
And Addison Young convinced Carter he needed to attend.
My new world was becoming so beautiful. With a career I can embrace, and a gorgeous boy full of intensity and passion that I’m falling hard for. Everything was going fine. Sue had been away all week, as the faculty was wary of her being contagious. She didn’t become so ill that she required hospitalization…just sick enough that she earned herself a week off.
Carter and I found ways to be together. Devil’s Bluff most evenings after school, my office during the day when desire demanded. We’ve been careful; we don’t text or call. No way to trace any connection.
This whole past week has been a haze of ecstasy and elation. At times, I had to remind myself that it’s tangible, physical. That Carter is real; what we have is real—that I’m not delusional. A word that I loathe.
Some nights, I open the medicine cabinet and stare at the abandoned bottle of pills. Despite how sublimely happy Carter has made me, I question whether or not I should take them. What if all this ends once I pop the little white pill? What if Ellis’s Wonderland really is a dream?
The scariest part is the chance I’ve lost touch with reality.
It’s happened before.
I quiet the pesky voice in my head. That was different. Jeremy was different. What happened on that beach happened to another girl—one that no longer exists.
Regardless, I’m too devoted now. I’m in too deep. My feelings for Carter are more than just carnal lust. We have a connection. No matter what happens, I can’t escape him now.
There was a long internal debate where I tried to convince myself not to come here tonight. That, no matter what temptation Addison puts in front of Carter, he wants me. But that annoying, incessant voice won’t shut up. The fear, the anxiety. The dread that he’ll find someone else. Someone better. The perfect, witty, good girl. The saint. Maybe that girl is Addison.
In the end, the fear is just too great; the need to know—to see with my own eyes—that Carter won’t betray me.
“Shit.” I breathe in and out slowly a few times to clear my head, then I open the car door.
Once I see Carter and know that Addison isn’t trying to steal him away, I can leave. My mind will stop fixating on her. I can do something as mundane as watch TV without the constant need to check his pages.
I pull my hoodie up to shield my face as I skirt the party and head toward an isolated seating area in the far back of the yard. There’s a few couples here, drunk, making out on chairs, but no one pays me any attention.
Finding a dark, shielded corner out of sight, I watch the giant window of the house. I can see the party happening inside as there’s little privacy, with every room on display. The filthy rich have no shame.
I search the crowd until I find Carter. He’s in a smaller clutch of people hovering near a firepit. Red cup in hand, he laughs at something another guy says. Annoyance spikes my blood when I see Addison. She’s right there beside him. She turns to him and touches his arm. Then she stands on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear.
Carter leans into her, braces his hand on her hip.
My body feels as if I’m tunneling through the earth, the ground devouring me. There’s no stop. Gravity is too powerful; my bones are bending. My skin feels tight. I’m feeling out of control.
I need to leave.
Only, I can’t tear my eyes away from them. Addison’s perfect hair, perfect laugh. The way she gazes up at Carter adoringly.
“I knew it…” My nails find purchase in my palms, and I start to tremble.
I somehow make it back to my car, but I don’t remember how. I’m in the driver-seat, hands gripped to the steering wheel. Time skipped a beat. I shake off the unnerving feeling and place a shaky finger to the ignition button, then a high-pitched shout startles me.
There’s a ruckus at the party. The backyard crowd swarms to one section, where they gather in a circle. That usually means a fight. Ignoring the temptation to stay and watch, I crank my car, then I hear a name called over the commotion.
Carter.