Page 42 of Pocketful of Shame

With Eminem'sLove The Way You Lieblasting from my headphones, I pushed through the crowded school hallway towards the gym, entirely uninterested in what had everyone's feathers in a twist. I didn’t give a damn about school politics, if I was being honest. I only cared about two people in this entire school and those two people were…kissing?

Struck fucking dumb, I froze in the middle of the hallway, unable to move a muscle, while the mother of all horror scenes unfolded before my eyes.

Romi,myfucking Romi, tucked into my brother's side while he slung an arm over her shoulders.

The taste of vomit soured my mouth.

Breathe.

Just keep breathing…

Clenching my eyes shut, I prayed the weed still in my system from last night was playing havoc with my eyes, but no, when I opened my eyes, they were still there.

All smiles.

All touchy-feely.

All loved-up.

Blinking rapidly, I looked on in a sick state of masochistic destruction as my brother, the one fucking decent family member I had, leaned in and pressed a kiss to my girl's lips.

Pain, more pain than I'd ever experienced, ricocheted through my body, causing my legs to shake and my body to buckle.

Two months. We'd been broken up two damn months and she had moved on – to my brother, no less. Needing to move before I passed out on the floor, I barged past them, ignoring the glimmer of guilt in my brother's eyes when our eyes met across the crowded hallway. His eyes told me he was sorry. Mine told him to go fuck himself.

Fuck him.

Fuck her.

Fuck the whole damn world...

"Fuck them both," I slurred, with a shake of my head. Nursing what I thought could be my ninth or tenth beer, I tipped the bottle back and drained the contents before ordering another shooter from the busty blonde behind the bar.

"You sure you want this, sweetheart?" she drawled, leaning across the bar to pour another shot of Jack into my glass. "I have it on good authority that whiskey ain't no good for healing a broken heart."

"I ain't trying to heal it," I mumbled, reaching for the glass. "I'm trying to numb it."

"Uh-huh." Tossing a cleaning rag over her shoulder, she leaned against the bar, tits spilling over the tiny shirt she had on, and smiled. "And how's that working for you?"

Tossing the amber liquid down my throat, I swallowed deeply and pushed the empty glass towards her. "Keep 'em coming and I'll let you know when it starts working."

Smirking, she reached for the bottle and poured me another. "You know –" she pushed the glass towards me, but didn’t let go. "I might know another cure."

My brows furrowed and I kept my glazed over gaze locked on the glass – on the red-painted fingernails curled around mine. "And what's that, ma'am?"

"My shift finishes in twenty minutes," she purred, releasing the glass. "How 'bout you meet me out back and I'll show you?"

I arched brow. "Are youpropositioningme?"

She smirked. "Why else do you think I'd risk getting fired to serve you? We both know that I.D you flashed me is bullshit, pretty boy."

"Wow." I tossed my shot back before continuing, "Now, I kinda feel like prey."

"So, what are you?" she laughed. "A sophomore in college?"

"Try senior in high school," I replied, too drunk to lie. "And I'm sorry, but I can't fuck you tonight." My brows furrowed. "Or any night."

"Because of your broken heart?" she teased, still grinning.

---