Chapter 12

“At some time in our lives a devil dwells within us, causes heartbreaks, confusion and troubles, then dies.”~ Theodore Roosevelt ~

I’m an addict, a Henry Garner addict. Except instead of a tourniquet wrapped around my forearm, the thin tight piece of latex is wrapped around my heart. Constricting. Squeezing. It’s squeezing the love out of me. Squeezing the life out of me.

Rosa lies on my floor flipping through a magazine. “So there’s a party, tonight. You wanna go?”

“Uh, I dunno, you?”

I’m lying on my bed and I roll over. The faint smell of Henry’s cologne lingers on my pillow. I inhale and I’m bathing in his scent. I miss him. It’s been days since I’ve spoken to him and I miss him so bad that I ache.

I can’t sleep. Even though I’m the one that kicked him out and told him to leave me alone, I leave my window open, hoping that he might sneak through it. He hasn’t.

At night I swear the empty side of my bed is warm. I know I’m dreaming up his presence. I know he’s at home in his own bed, but I feel better if I pretend. I even go as far as imagining his arms around me. His soft breathing against my ear

.

He’s been calling—and texting. I haven’t been answering. My mind has been in a blunder over him. Every time my phone rings or buzzes I have to talk myself out of responding.

“You know I’m always down to party,” Rosa announces.

“Where is this party at?” I already know the answer to my question. Henry sent me a text earlier. He’s hosting the party.

“Henry Garner’s.”

“I don’t know,” I tell her.

What I don’t tell her is seeing him and her together in an intimate setting will be more than I can handle. Since our argument I fight the better half of myself every day in school. I see them and want to shout… Let out a tortured cry. Rip at Callie’s hair. I want to tell her what I’ve been doing with her boyfriend of four years.

At the same time, I think about ripping my own hair. I tell myself that the self-inflicted pain will numb the pain in my heart. Then after thinking about it for a minute, I know that’s not true. Nothing can numb the pain in my heart. Not even an anesthetic.

“I think it will be fun,” Rosa adds.

I think it will be a disaster. An earthquake. Rumbling. Shattered buildings. Scattered people.

She closes the magazine and puffs out her bottom lip. “Come on, please.”

“Argh.” I inhale deep, then exhale. “Okay. But just for a little bit.”

She beams. “We won’t wear out our welcome.”

Well she won’t. I wore out my welcome months ago.

****

As we walk up the driveway illuminated by odd shaped landscape lights, I feel like I’m walking to the chopping block. I’m Anne Boleyn. My death is imminent and all the people on the porch turn toward us—staring.

Henry sits on the swing, his arm draped over Callie’s shoulders. His eyes flash over to me. We exchange a tortured glance. Then I blanch and turn away. Pain sears through me and clutches my heart, like death’s icy grasp. I choke on the breath caught in my throat and try to control my breathing as Callie makes a rude noise.

Rosa and I hop up the three steps leading to Henry’s front porch. “Ugh.” Rosa rolls her eyes and glares at Callie. “Ignore her.”

“I’m trying,” I say, even though every part of me wants to stab her in the face. I exhale. I’m delicate China. I’m being thrown into a wall, breaking apart. “I don’t think coming here was such a good idea.”

Rosa strolls ahead and opens the front door. She holds it open for me and I walk inside. She follows and closes the door behind her. We walk down the narrow hall leading to the kitchen. “Sure it was,” Rosa tells me. “You just need a beverage.”

“I’m glad you know what I need.” My hope is that she hears the sarcasm in my voice.

“Are you getting sassy with me?” she asks when we’re in the middle of the newly remodeled kitchen.

Tags: Lauren Hammond Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net