"I don't know why you're so anxious," my mom leans against my door and says, and I sigh. "Mom, I don't have a Christmas gift for him." I mutter to myself as I repack my bag. For my trip with Kent, I had to visit my apartment, do laundry, prepare a new bag, and head to the airport. It wasn't the packing that made my stomach churn, but the pressure I placed on myself. "So? He said he didn't want one, didn't he?" she asks. "But he's taking me to New York," I say quietly. "Isn't that reason enough to at least try?" "Just give him something that feels like it's from you, something that's genuine," she whispers as she walks into my room and gives me a tight hug. "Juls, have a great time. I love you." "I love you too," I smile, and she returns the smile before stepping away. I grab my bags and pile my things in the living room. Kent mentioned he'd be going to the gym this morning but would return to pick me up. A smile spreads across my face when I see his black car pull up outside. "
"This nightclub is way bigger than any I've been to before. Kent kept his promise to take me out for a night on the town, and it was wild." "We were totally wasted, and we didn't know anyone around. It was a blast. The strobe lights were going wild, and EDM was blasting from every speaker. I was soaked in sweat and glitter, like a regular at this place." "Kent and I were both drowning in joy as we took shots. We spent the whole holiday with our wild families, and it was clear we were indulging in some adult fun." "We're hammered. Like, really hammered." "Should we head back?" Kent slurs, and I nod in agreement. "We stumble out of the nightclub, and he chuckles as he arranges a cab for both of us. Somehow, we manage to get into the cab. Kent rambles about where we're headed, and we share an awkward kiss in the backseat all the way back to the hotel. The driver seems irked by our behavior until Kent tips him generously." "I only remember collapsing on the bed when we reach the room
"Baby!" I hear, along with a loud knock on the door. I gradually pick myself up from the bathroom floor, wincing in pain. How did I end up falling asleep here? "Juls, open the door," I hear again. This time, I let out a sigh and make my way to my feet. My dress from last night is still on, the zipper undone from the previous evening. I glance at my reflection in the mirror above the vanity. Red eyes, tangled hair, a brutal hangover with a pounding headache. As I turn my attention back to the door, a mix of emotions wash over me. A significant part of it is anger, actually mostly anger. But there's also a trace of sadness that makes me want to cry all over again. I need some time to think and space away from him. Ever since we started whatever this is with Kent, he's always been so preoccupied. I clung to him whenever he paid me attention. My every thought revolved around him, and I'm starting to believe that's why things keep going awry for me. The truth is Kent doesn't reveal e
"You and Piper were in a weird situation where you got drunk and fooled around." He keeps repeating, "I've never actually slept with her," as if that's the part driving me insane. I shake my head and ask, "So?" "The specifics of this contribute to maybe 15% of my anger," I almost whisper due to my exhaustion. "What upsets me is that you, once again, concealed something from me, hoping I wouldn't discover it." "When the heck have I ever not told you something?" "Where do I even start? I was oblivious to your family until I was at their house. Your sister remains an enigma, and the only topic you've been entirely truthful about is that football injury! Kent, I'm an attentive listener, but relationships require honesty from both sides. You said you were going to work on opening up." "I'm working on it," I state as he presses me, but he remains unconvinced. "I didn't want to learn like that," I whisper. "After you shared such a significant piece of information, you just fell asleep.
I don't remember the last time I felt this empty. Back when he used to tease me and roll his eyes, this emptiness wasn't there. Now, all I sense is a kind of void. I can't go on without him. I did this to myself, but it was the right decision. I do care about him, and every time he walks into a room, I feel that pull in my chest that's been there for months. But I'll always be firm about what I won't tolerate. I can't concentrate on this research opportunity with Kent, and I just had another fight. If I want to attend graduate school next year, I need to be wise about my choices. Kent can re-enter my life after I've had some time to sort out my feelings. Most of my packing is done. I got a dorm room at Northwestern for this, which was more affordable than renting a place for a month, so I only had to bring my clothes and personal items. Today, I had to go back to the apartment to retrieve the rest of my stuff. I didn't text Kent, thinking he was still in New York. It's been three
It's probably Mark or Kyle; they might be back early for the new term. I'm unsure how to explain it to them – "Hey, your best friend and I broke up just when you were getting used to us dating. It's probably going to ruin the apartment vibe for a while. Sorry." "Hello?" A pleasant, warm, deep voice echoes, and my heart skips a beat. It's him, not Kyle or Mark. Stay calm, Juls. You can handle this. You'll only be in the apartment for a few hours, and then you'll have a month to clear your head. "Who's here?" he inquires as he approaches down the hall, and I take a deep breath. When he sees that my room's door is open with light spilling out into the corridor, he halts. I hear him slowly and hesitantly moving closer to the door, and my heart races. Even though we haven't seen each other in days, I can't seem to control my infatuation. I stammer, "H-hi," and he clears his throat. "I-I thought you were leaving today," he says, exhaling in a way that almost pushes him against the hall
It has been quiet for a long time. We've just been lying here in bed sheets and staring at the ceiling. I've been trying not to roll onto his chest and fall asleep. I can't decide what to do because I don't want to leave, but I also don't want to talk first. I hear him ask quietly, "Are you okay?" and I nod. I whisper, "Yeah," and fidget with the bed sheets. The more I think about how good that was, the harder it is for me to be objective. A lot of thoughts are swirling through my mind. I wish I hadn't done that, but I'm still glad I did. There are many questions about what to do next, and even more about him and his thoughts. I mumble, "I...I need to finish packing." "Then I need to go home and pack the car." I slowly get up. My body aches, but I try to ignore it as much as possible. I gasp when I feel a hand grasp my arm. He whispers as he sits next to me, "Don't go. Please don't go." "Kent, I need to." "Juls, don't run away from this. Stop running away from me. Half the time
"When Cali turned twelve, she went to school in London, and I stayed in the city and went to a private school there. We didn't see each other much as kids because we all wanted to be far apart," he said, as I rested my cheek on his chest. "When I was fourteen, my dad told me to join a club or talk to the dean at Dartmouth. At the time, I didn't even know if I wanted to go to college." I asked, "Did you ever apply?" He shook his head. "Never," he said softly. "Really, never," I replied. "Did you consider it?" He whispered, "No, I never wanted to be like my dad. That was my biggest fear. When I was a senior, I applied to a few schools. Brown and Michigan were two of them. All I cared about was football, and it was all mine. I didn't do it for my parents; I did it for myself." I whispered, "I'm sorry," and he nodded. "I had to choose Brown, but I was in a wheelchair for months. Once school started in the fall, I was fine, but I had to go to physical therapy all the time," he reminde