Page 10 of Obsessed with the Heartbreaker

Why had it occurred to me to fucking look at internships first thing in the morning? Well, you could probably say I should have started looking at themearlierthan in my last year of college—my father would certainly think so. Or at least he would if he’d wanted me to take my major seriously. But he didn’t. He wanted me to be his little successor, andthatwas certainly something I was not doing, because the only thing I could do right in my life was to be a contrarian, according to him, so I couldn’t fail him.

Still, I had felt a shred of guilt, woken up with the thought that this whole college gig really was coming to an end in a matter of months and I had no clue what to do with my technically useless existence, so I’d gone to my laptop and started researching. I’d told my father I wouldn’t, but that had been more to spite him than anything else.

But when what I saw in my research made me feel even worse than when I’d woken up, I just decided to lay back down on my bed, enjoy the first morning sun rays with my windows open, and wait for inspiration to take me.

Needless to say, my muse was a bitch.

Maddox did not get the hint that I didn’t want to be disturbed, though, and I heard his approaching steps until he was standing right next to me.

“This isn’t like you, Hen.”

Hen wasn’t for Henry. Or even if it had once been, it now stood forchicken. Because that was the sort of asshole my best friend was, and he was the only one who could get away with such an atrocity.

“I’m just layingdown.”

“No, you’re being all…morose.” The disgust in his voice at the last word was almost laughable.

Almost.

“If you don’t like it, then get out.”

Again, he ignored me. “You’ve been like this for months. I was keeping quiet because I thought it was just an emo phase or something, but I can’t stand it anymore.”

It was rich of him to call me emo when it washimwho looked like an inky-haired rockstar that was cynical with the ways of life and liked to cry out his frustrations in front of a rapt audience.

“You’re running away.”

“No, I’m literally laying down,” I deadpanned.

“You’rerunning awayfrom something, avoiding your problems, and you’ve been trying to get distracted with the stupidest things you could come up with just so you wouldn’t have to face them.”

My stomach twisted into knots.

Could I please ask the universe to give me one non-perceptive friend? One that was at least 2% less of a dick than this one? No?

Just my luck.

Maddox was still rambling on. “You’re not even getting laid, Hen. When was the last time you had someone on your lap? Someone you actuallyhooked up with?”

Months.

It had been a long time. At least for me. I was pretty sure my balls had given up on life at this point.

“You keep up with my hookups now?” I pulled my hands away from my face and finally looked at him.

He was standing over me, lookingdownon me, which I was sure a part of him absolutely loved, and pinning me down with his mean stare, hands on his hips.

Like me, he was only wearing a pair of sweatpants.

He couldn’t expect to be taken seriously when his nipples were out.

“You’ve done everything possible to avoid going back to your place this summer, and it’s not because you were chasing tail.”

“Is there a point to you saying things if you just ignore whenIsay something?”

“The point,Hen, is that I know what this is about.”

No.

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