Charade

              “I was so lost in thought about you that I couldn’t handle it. I mean, I’m sitting here with Colt. How can I not feel totally enamored?”

              He looks at me almost confused for a second before saying, “It’s about time you realized that.”

              And then his laptop is gone and my books and notebook shoved to the floor and Colt’s on me.

              My clothes are gone in no time and then his.  His mouth is on mine and he’s fumbling with a condom. His tongue moves to the peak of my breast and I cry out before he pushes inside.

              It’s not because of how I feel right now or how well we move together. It’s about him. Us. I know that it’s no longer just an empty thought. It’s the truth.

              I’m falling for Colt.

***

              Colt’s sitting in the car with me as we head to the coffee house. I’m in major need of caffeine and even though I know he doesn’t drink coffee and I’m going back to my dorm after this, he insisted on going with me.

              His phone goes off for what feels like the millionth time and I realize what’s happening. He’s meeting someone to sell them weed. It had nothing to do with me.

              Anger simmers beneath my skin. I don’t think I have the right, but I hate seeing him do this. Know he doesn’t want to, but then I think about his mom and know some of the money goes to help her.

              Can I really blame him?

              We pull up in front and I turn off the car, look at him and without thinking say, “I can help.”

              Colt pushes his cell into his pocket. “Help with what?”

              “Money.” I shrug. “Whatever you need.”

              Colt groans and drops his head back. “I don’t need you to save me, Princess.”

              The name hurts. I don’t want to be his princess. That’s the name he called the girl he hated.

              “Fuck you, Colt.” I reach for the door handle, but he touches my other arm.

              “I’m not trying to be an asshole.”

              “Then don’t,” I throw back at him.

              “I can handle it.”

              I sigh and touch his hand on my arm. Thread our fingers together half expecting him to pull away or me to pull away, but neither of us do.

              “I hate that you have to.”

              He sighs, his answer surprising me. “Just like I hate the fucking demons you have locked inside you that you won’t tell me about. The ones you only let out when you can’t control it and you panic. We can’t always control what we don’t like, Tiny Dancer.”

              That name makes me exhale a breath. “But I can do something to help you.” And don’t you know you already help me?

              Colt flinches. “She hardly gets enough to take care of what she needs. If she’s in a lot of pain, she runs out. She’s dying, Cheye

              My heart breaks for him—calls to him. I want to open it up and lock him inside.

              But then, he can get a job too. Selling weed isn’t the only way to make money.

I know what it is, know he doesn’t expect to be any more than he is, than his dad was, so he plays the part. Following the path he thinks is set for him. “You’re better than that.”

              And before he can get frustrated or before he can storm off, I crawl to his lap and kiss him. My hand slides through his messy hair and he grips my sides so tight it’s like he’s afraid I’ll slip away.

              “You’re not a princess.” He leans his forehead against mine.

              Those words do more for me than I want to admit.

              His cell goes off again. “I gotta go, baby.”

              Colt’s hand slides down my face and he kisses me quickly. I sigh, but climb off him and we each get out of the car. Colt walks over, hand on my hip like always and kisses me again. “You are so fucking hot.”

              A wink. And then he’s gone.

              Andy walks over to me. I didn’t even see where she came from.

              “It’s pretty sad when the only time I see my roommate is when I run into her at a party or the coffee house.”

              I shrug.

              “You should see the way he watches you. Didn’t take his eyes off you the whole time we talked at the party. It’s cute. He’s hot. We should double date sometime.”

              Her words make me sad and I keep watching Colt as he gets farther and farther away. “It’s not real. It’s a game.”

              “It looks real to me,” Andy replies. “Maybe you don’t see it or don’t want to, but it’s real. Looks to me like you finally found your person to be real with. Maybe sometime you’ll let me in too.”

              Just like Colt, she walks away from me.

              Scary as it is, I hope she’s right about Colt. Maybe even about her too.

~CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE~

Colt

              I’ve never really felt like an upstanding guy. Especially when I’m taking money from someone and giving them drugs, but I feel even more like shit after my talk with Chey.

              I try not to think about it as I make the guy drive me back home. One of the people I was supposed to meet didn’t show.  I should have taken my own fucking car. I don’t know why I even rode with Cheye

              Without going in the house, I stuff the extra baggie in my trunk. I jump in my piece-of-shit and head to my mom’s. It wasn’t pla

              “Hey. I didn’t expect to see you today.” She gives me a weak smile as I walk in.

              “I couldn’t stay away.” I give her a kiss and then sit on the arm of the couch. “How you doing today?”

              It’s dark purple under her eyes and her lips are cracked from being so chapped.

              “I’m good. How are you?”

              Instead of answering her I say, “You look dehydrated. Are you drinking enough?” I get up to go into the kitchen, but her sigh stops me.

              “It’s hard to hold it down.”

              My heart seizes. “Water?”

              “Yeah…It’s been a couple hours since I tried some. Maybe a few sips.”

              She’s only doing it for me. I hope like hell it doesn’t make her sick because I know she needs it.

              I head to the kitchen and get her a small glass of ice water and then another cup filled with only ice.

              “Do you want to suck on an ice cube instead?” It’s probably a stupid fucking thing to ask, but it makes sense to me.

              “Yeah, that might help.” She reaches a shaky hand toward me and I try not to flinch. “Maggie had me do that earlier.”

              That’s good. Maybe it’s not so stupid then.

              She sucks on the ice cube for a few minutes and we’re silent. I can’t stop myself from watching her even though it’s actually the last place my eyes want to be. Seeing her like that makes me want to empty everything in my stomach. Makes my chest fucking ache like someone’s embedded a knife there and won’t stop twisting it.

              “I think I need to lie down. Do you want to go and talk to me in there?”

              I nod, her words shoving the knife deeper.

              Once I lift her frail body into the bed, I sit next to her. She grabs my hand and it’s so small. So thin I feel like I might break it if I tighten my grip. I want to spend as much time with her as I can, but I almost feel guilty too. Like I wear her out. It’s hard to always see her in bed or put her there.