Page 44 of Not Your Little Girl Anymore

Could have been better.

I frown, feeling a grip on my heart. The reminder of my parents’ funeral plops in my head. Losing them was the worst feeling I ever felt. The part of knowing they’re gone, but are still in denial. I will never forget how sufferable it was to see everyone cry, only to forget them months, even years later while I’m stuck with the consistent wound from losing them that’ll never heal. The pain of losing a parent sits with you for the rest of your life. It never gets easier.

Taking a second to think of what to say, I decide it’s better to change the subject. If she’s anything like me, I wouldn’t want to talk about it longer than necessary.

Come over later.

That wasn’t a question, more of an invitation. One I’m hoping she takes. When I see the bubbles appear in the bottom left corner, my stomach twists, and anticipation rises throughout my veins, but they disappear all too quickly, leaving me with disappointment.

I stuff out my cigarette and toss it into the ashtray before heading inside the studio. Pushing the door open, I head straight for my guitar, ignoring Samantha and James, who are on the red carpet where the equipment is set up.

Tyler comes in shortly after, heading straight for the drum set. “Can we make this quick? I have a hot brunette waiting for me.”

I hear Samantha make a gagging noise, and James’s laugh, but I ignore it, squinting my eyes while my teeth grind as I struggle with the latches on my guitar case. I curse out loud and they finally budge and fling open.

When I turn around, everyone is staring at me like I have grown ten heads, but quickly, they avert their gaze, and I take a stand at the middle mic.

“Let’s start from the top,” I state, my tone anything but enthused.

As we begin to play, my thoughts travel elsewhere. I was hoping that despite my clouded judgment, I’d be preoccupied, focusing on the band. In all honesty, I can’t keep my focus in check. All I can think about is Summer’s smile and how fucking beautiful she is. My mind travels to her fluffy lips, pressing against every inch of my body in nothing but a bra… if she wears one. The thought makes my cock rock hard.

Ah, fuck.

The instruments cut out as the studio falls silent. James and Tyler both stop playing at the same time, and I felt Samantha’s eyes drilling me from the side. My body stiffens. I tilt my head down to my shoulder and give a slight roll of my neck until I hear a crack.

“Dude, you never screw up a note. What the fuck is going on with you?” James’s voice echoes in my ears.

I lean back, sitting on the stool behind me, and run my fingers through my hair, using my guitar to cover my hard-on before Samantha walks over to me. She rests her hand on my shoulder, and I turn my head to see her face, which is full of concern.

“Alec, seriously. Are you OK?”

I shake my head. It’s clear that I’m not fucking OK. She knows it, and now the guys know. But I can’t explain what is wrong with me even if I want to.

Once my cock limps and I gather myself again, I run one hand down my face. “Let’s go again.”

Chapter Sixteen

Summer

My life feels different.

I’m a college dropout. My mother was murdered. I can’t push the thought of my father being involved aside, and now I masturbated while thinking about Alec. The day isn’t even over, and I feel worse off than I did before leaving this morning.

I sit up on my bed, looking around the room and catching a small glimpse of myself in my vanity mirror. My hair is a mess, and my mascara is smudged under my eyes. There is only one thing left I can do… laugh.

I laugh at myself, but it turns to sobs too soon.

The short cries turn into a river of tears seeping down my face. I can’t control them. I can’t get them to stop, and I hate myself for it. The tears make me feel weak, and I’m supposed to be stronger than this. Stronger for Mom.

My breathing comes in shorter gasps, and I’m pretty sure my throat is closing in on me.

I’m officially hyperventilating.

I curl up, bringing my pillow to my chest, and hold on tight as if it’ll help soothe the pain that’s stabbing me directly in my heart. It doesn’t help. Nothing helps, and all I’m left to do is wait it out until I can breathe. Until I feel like a normal human being again, which is silly because there is nothing wrong with crying.

There is nothing wrong with allowing the pain to be free once in a while, knowing that if I did hold it all in forever, I would crumble into the ground and never return.

Twenty minutes feels like three hours, but I’m finally able to inhale oxygen without choking on myself. Using the pads of my fingers, I try to dry my face the best I can before getting out of bed to clean the vibrator and put it back into the box.

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