Fold

"Love isn’t complicated, people are." —Unknown

“I was supposed to pick up the early morning shift at the coffee house tomorrow before classes start but—”

“I'll cover it,” I cut in. “My classes don't begin until the afternoon anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

If Breslin wasn't sitting in a hospital with Asher right now, I'd tell her off for being so damn stubborn.

“B, I've got you. But, if you want to make it up to me, meet me in the cafeteria before classes start, this way we can grab a late lunch and catch up. It feels like forever since we last talked.”

And there's so much I want to tell you.

“It's a date,” she says, and I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from asking her the questions that are currently burning a hole through my stomach lining.

Is Preston there? Did he make it home okay? How is he handling the news about his father's accident?

A frustrated sigh passes my lips and I plop down on one of the many boxes that I still need to unpack. God, this is so stupid. I have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. I'm being a concerned citizen here, dammit.

Which means I have every right to ask how my ex-girlfriend's fiancé and baby daddy is doing...right?

Right.

“Bre—” My mouth clamps shut when I realize she hung up over a minute ago.

Without thinking, I scroll through my phone log, pausing when I see the incoming call I received at 3:05 a.m.

Boom, there it is, glaring at me like a big ugly zit on porcelain skin...begging to be either popped or camouflaged.

My finger dances over the call button before I make the sound decision to press delete and be done with this tango for good.

We're not friends.

Which in foresight is probably a good thing, because he's self-destructive at best and self-serving at worst.

My chest pangs with some emotion I don't dare identify, but I brush it off and start unpacking.

I'm unloading the contents of my second box when I hear a knock.

“Go away,” I grumble.

When they ignore my warning and knock again, I place my box cutter down and stomp to the front door.

If I'm lucky, it's some idiot stoner asking if he can borrow a lighter. But if I'm not? It's some overzealous idiot who suddenly wants to be friends before we graduate, all because some bullshit click-bait article on social media told her it would make her a better person.

Kelly, the a

When I turn the knob, I realize that Kelly would be a godsend right about now. Because a fresh hell greets me in the form of my ex-girlfriend.

I'm regretting leaving that box cutter behind.

“Hi,” she starts. “I would have called you, but I couldn't get through.”

“I blocked your number over Christmas break,” I inform her curtly, keeping my face expressionless.

“Oh.” She frowns. “I suppose I deserve that after everything I put you through.”

“No argument here.”

I cast my eyes down and notice the dress she's wearing is red, which is awfully fitting, because as far as I'm concerned, she's the devil.

Unfortunately, I'm so distracted by her presence that I don't realize she's crossed the threshold and is inside my dorm until the door clicks closed behind her.

I have to look away, not because of the anger, but because I don't trust myself to do the right thing when it comes to Becca.

Because I still love her.

Becca must sense this because she uses the opportunity to inch even closer, causing my heart to do a little flip of protest. Almost like the organ knows there's danger up ahead and wants to abandon ship.

“I was a bitch to you yesterday,” she whispers, and that flowery scent of hers that I remember like only a lover can invades my nostrils.

I take a step back, attempting to put some distance between us but she reaches for my hand. “I'm so sorry I hurt you, Kit.”

The contact zips through my body like a double shot of Bacardi 151 on an empty stomach. And just like the intoxicating agent, it weakens my defenses and causes my armor to crumble until all I can remember is how much I loved her...instead of how she ripped my soul to pieces.

She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I miss you. There's not a second that goes by that I don't think about you.”

When a tear falls down her cheek and I know there's truth behind her words, the force field surrounding my heart explodes into a thousand smithereens.

“Then why did you cheat on me?” I choke back a sob, but that only makes the next one break free. “I thought we...I thought you were happy.”

“I was.” She cups my face, her thumbs catching my tears. “I was so happy with you.”

“Then why would you hurt me?”

It's the question I've asked myself minute after minute and night after night since the second my heart broke in that cafeteria.

“I would have done anything for you, Becca. Anything.”

It's true, this girl could have asked for the damn moon and I would have found a way to lasso it down for her.

The thought is like a boomerang reopening the wound. I remove her hands from my face and take several more steps back.

Her eyes dart around the room before they lock on mine. “You want the truth?”

I give her a small nod. No matter how much it may hurt, maybe it will help me get some closure.

“You scared me.” She holds up a hand. “Well, not you. But the intensity of your love...our love...scared me. Everything about us scared me.”

What she says makes no sense to me. Love is supposed to be intense. Hell, it's the most intense thing there is. Otherwise it's not love.

“I don't understand.”

She walks over to me. “What I mean is, I've never felt anything like what I feel for you. It was confusing, not only because I've never fallen for another girl this hard, but because I was afraid I was going to fuck it up, you know? That I'd do something stupid and end up losing you.”

I raise a brow. “So instead of talking to me about your fears you—”

“Did something stupid and ended up losing you anyway.” She sniffs. “Self-fulfilling prophecy, I guess.”

She rests her forehead against mine and I ignore the next warning my heart issues.

“That's not the only thing you want me to tell you, though. Is it?”

Her voice takes on a husky tone and my own vocal chords jam in my throat. The dynamic of this conversation has shifted and I don't know how to get it back on topic. Not when she's looking at me the way she is now.

Like she wants to devour every inch of my body.

She presses her hand to my chest and smiles slyly when she feels my heart beat rapidly against her palm. Like she knows it's still hers for the taking.

Too bad there's not much left of it to take this time around.

“You want to know about him.” The hand covering my heart drops to my breast. The touch is so light, one could easily mistake it for an accident.

But I know better, because with Becca...everything is intentional.

“You want to know if sex with him was better than sex with you, don't you? What it was like when he fucked me.”

My pulse skyrockets and I honestly hate myself for being a little curious, despite the fresh dose of pain her words bring.