Page 28 of Run For Me
He doesn’t know me, and I don’t know him, so what if I used this like anonymous therapy? The thought of therapy before scared the hell out of me, not wanting to sit face to face and say anything about how I feel, but this person already knows my deepest, darkest thoughts, my fears and wishes. I could talk about these things, get them off my chest, and see if that helps me.
If getting it out helps, maybe other things will become clear to me. Like what to do about Sam. This isn’t the first time my thoughts have put me in a place I shouldn’t be. I know getting things out helps; I just don’t trust anyone enough to tell them.
But if it’s a stranger… it shouldn’t matter.
After this spat with Sam, I’m determined to get my shit figured out.
I open the Surge app and go to JT’s message.
DarkRaven: I’ve made a decision about your offer.
I stare at the screen, waiting for him to respond. He doesn’t after a few minutes, so I send the next one before I can change my mind.
DarkRaven: I’ll do it on one condition.
DarkRaven: You keep the journal to ensure I’m telling the truth.
Another five minutes pass, and he still doesn’t respond. I worry he’s changed his mind, but I push those thoughts away. He’s probably busy. He has a life. I put the phone down and go back to watching Lord of the Rings. He’ll answer when he can. I know he will.
Chapter Nineteen
Him
It’s after three in the morning when I get home, feeling more hungover than drunk. I fucking hate when my body reacts to alcohol this way. It’s almost like my brain knows I shouldn’t be medicating with alcohol and drugs, so it just fucking blocks it out. So fucking stupid.
I toss a frozen pizza in the oven before hopping into the shower. When I’m out, the food is done. I cut it into four slices, piling them onto a plate and go to the couch. Thank fuck for having rich parents who make up for their lack of love by throwing money and things at you. I’ve had this apartment a few years now, and living alone is the best thing that could ever happen to me.
Of course, it was my mother’s way of buying my loyalty and hoping I’d choose her and the shit she’s a part of, but I haven’t yet, and she hasn’t threatened to take the apartment away.
I put on the TV and reruns of Game of Thrones are playing, so I leave it on. It’s the first season and re-watching this sounds great. Fitting to my mood: dark and out for blood.
When I bring the plate to the sink and grab a soda from the fridge, I find my phone on the counter. I check it but it’s dead, so I place it on the wireless charger beside the couch as I sit down to continue watching the show.
I doubt I’ll sleep at all tonight. I have one class tomorrow, and if I feel this bad in the morning—or in a few hours, I guess—I’ll skip it. There isn’t shit that I want to do tomorrow, and I’m fine with taking a three-day weekend.
When my phone turns on, alerts go off like rapid gunfire. All of which I’m sure I’ll ignore. Emails from school, Mindy, my father… everyone else on this planet. It has to charge more before I can’t use it, so I flick the sound off and keep my attention on the show.
When the episode ends, I weed through the notifications on my phone. Most are stupid emails, as I expected, but what stands out to me are the stack of texts from Mindy.
“Good god,” I groan and throw my head back.
The worst thing I ever did was give this girl the time of day. The messages are a mix of photos and texts, and I assume she wants another hook up which grates on my damn nerves. This girl is so desperate it’s disgusting. How is she okay acting like this? How is she comfortable in her own skin, just begging for attention all the time? I open the text, expecting to see her tits and pussy.
Well, am I wrong.
There’s a handful of photos of that shirtless chick on my lap, practically riding my dick through my pants, and a bunch of angry texts.
Mindy:You asshole! How could you do this to me?
Mindy:That skank probably has an STD. I hope you plan to get checked!
Mindy:What the fuck is your problem?
Mindy:Answer me!
There’s more—a lot more—but they’re all the same, just in different words. I don’t know why this girl feels she has any claim over me, I never said we were together, but it’s obvious I need to make a firmer point. And I do so by blocking her number. It’s only when I close out of it that I see the bubble over the Surge app. It can only be one person. A tinge of excitement flutters in my chest and I open it, finding three texts from my little dove. These, unlike the ones from Mindy, don’t enrage me. They have my veins running warm.
DarkRaven: I’ve made a decision about your offer.
