Page 8 of Consume Me

As we approach the English literature building, she places her hand on my arm. “Blake is a fighter. Always will be, but his demons run deep.”

If he had let me, I would have fought them alongside him.

I am so pathetic. I never had him to begin with, if you don’t count how he snuck into my bedroom night after night. While I was burning more and more for him, he was content with watching me sleep. That should have been proof that he was not attracted to me.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. See you later,” I say, walking inside the classroom. I put my notebook on the table, waiting for the class to begin. I am ahead in every course. Keeping busy means my mind doesn’t wander, and my heart takes a break from the longing. I need that small pause to function.

One day, my feelings will disappear, just like he did. But that day isn’t today.

“Good morning, class. Today, we’ll go through the work of James Joyce and his impact on English literature.”

While jotting down notes, my mind redirects its attention to class—focused and productive. But it won’t take long—it never does.

Once I’m back at the house, I head to my room to get ready for tonight. I am looking forward to what happens after dinnerat the estate. A party is exactly what I need—getting lost in the music and having some drinks. No, I am not going there hoping Blake might pop up at any moment and fight.

Groaning, I change into a purple, long-sleeved bodycon dress. Cassandra announced she would make changes at the first dinner after Grandmother’s funeral. She doesn’t want to be called Mother—only Ma’am. In private, we can call her Cassandra—no more meaningless titles.

One thing that hasn’t changed is our attire. We’re wearing business casual to prepare us for when we’re ready to represent the Family. What roles each of us will take on will be discussed later.

Dabbing on a bit of eyeliner and mascara, I look at myself.Silver. Not even his nickname for me was original, yet I fell for him. I wish he did the same. Unrequited love is the worst––the slow death of your heart while you can’t do a thing to stop it.

My romance books stare back at me from the shelf on the right wall. I haven’t touched one since he left. I am too raw, even though I miss getting lost in them. But I thought he was my love story, and for the first time, living it felt better than reading about it. He was my first heartbreak, though, one I doubt I will recover from.

A knock later, Celine, Abigail, and Bailey walk in, all wearing long-sleeved dresses and elegant boots. Even though there’s friction in the group, our girls’ bond has become stronger.

“Ready?” Celine asks.

Abigail moves to my shelf, takes out a romance book, and looks at me knowingly. I don’t want them to worry about me. I am fine.

“Giving it to Dane for inspiration?” I ask.

She chuckles. “If he gets more inspiration, I’m going to combust.”

We laugh, and Celine says, “You know the guys read those too. When Kaden finishes one, he blows my mind even more.”

Bailey looks at them, then types something on her phone and shoves it in their faces. “This always delivers. Ultimate pleasure with no headache.”

I see the vibrator. None of us can suppress the amusement, and a peal of laughter erupts.

Celine and Abigail walk out first, then Bailey and I loop our arms together, following them to the cars parked out front.

“I love them, and I am happy for them but…”

“I feel you,” she says, and we exchange a knowing look.

Maybe that’s why we have become closer. We don’t have boyfriends who worship the ground we walk on.

“We can form the ‘Single and Okay’ group,” Bailey suggests.

“With the rabbit vibrator as our logo.”

“I’m sure we’d have more sign-ups than any other club on campus.”

We cram into Abigail’s Porsche while the guys pile into Kaden’s BMW. I like this change to carpooling. It shows our unity.

The iron gates open, and it never ceases to amaze me how spectacular the Family compound is, spreading over a vast acreage. On top of the hill stands the estate where the matriarchor patriarch of the Family usually lives, proudly displaying all its architectural glory. Surrounding it at the foot of the hill are six family houses––two story British colonial-style mansions. Lamps are strategically placed on each side of the road, connecting them all. A thin blanket of snow covers the lush vegetation and trimmed bushes, adding to the harmonious look.

Once my father regained his position of power, he moved to the Family compound and quickly renovated the house, which had been left to the whims of nature.

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