Page 139 of Isolation
Raven is dating some asshole namedMichelle. What kind of dude’s name is that anyway?
I never had to see her actively date someone before. Not like this. She adds this douchebag as her plus one to our plans. She calls him her fucking boyfriend.
I want to choke the living shit out of him.
More than I have ever wanted to with Asher or with Milo. That’s what I have to do. I have to kill off the entire male population on this planet before Raven notices me.
Even then, she might say some stupid shit like,you are my brother from another mother.
God, I hate those words. I cringe and shut down every time she says them to me.
When will this torture end?
Why does God make me love such an insufferable woman?
Not only is she datingMichellein front of me, but they are getting physical. Raven doesn’t share all of what’s going on between them. She is notoriously private about some things, even with me.
But I know she is going further with him than any guy before. I keep hoping, for my sanity, that’s not the case.
It’s getting harder to live in that denial.
We went to a club not so long ago and she left withMichelle.She texted me to say that she was leaving. Before I could run out of the club to stop her, they were gone. I kept calling her but her phone was turned off.
She didn’t come home till the next morning.
This is so much worse than when I thought she liked Milo. Now I wished she was interested in Milo instead.
At least I knew she never had a shot with him. Now she is fucking thisMichelle. She won’t admit it, but I know she is.
She has been asking me about all kinds of sex questions. We sometimes watch porn as a joke but recently I can tell that she is taking mental notes while we watch.
She is trying to gain experience and ideas to try withhim.
I can’t take this shit anymore.
I have also started fucking. I don’t give two shits anymore about all of this romantic crap and waiting for her. I don't remember the name of the first girl I slept with. I went from zero to way too many within a matter of a couple months.
You would think something like that would make a seventeen-year-old feel better.
It does not.
Which is why I am going to have a talk with her.
I am fidgeting in front of her door, contemplating whether I should knock or casually walk in like I always do.
I decide on the latter. Casual between us is always more natural.
I swing the door open and find Raven stretched out on her stomach on the bed, flipping through a magazine.
God, she is so beautiful. Does she know how beautiful she is?
What was I going to say? Oh right.
“I don’t like him,” I declare.
Not exactly how I intended to start the conversation but there. It’s out and in the open.
“You don’t like whom?” Raven burrows her eyebrows.
