Page 81 of Bad Boy
My thoughts are spiraling, and I’ve been in my head all night. Circling around and around, unable to pull myself from the hopelessness plaguing me. It’s too much. It’sbeentoo much. For a while now.
My fingers slip into my hair, rubbing my scalp back and forth, messing everything up.
Something inside me cracks.
A guttural scream tears from my throat before I lose all composure and lash out, smashing my fist into the perfectly imperfect reflection in front of me. A spiderweb of cracks fills my blurred vision before the sharp pain registers. I whimper and cradle my hand to my chest.
I slip my phone from my hoodie pocket and tap my favorites. I only have one.
He answers on the first ring, voice hoarse and groggy from sleep. “Linc?”
The tiny numbers in the corner of my screen tell me it’s two in the morning.
“Remi.” It’s a strangled whisper, ending with a loud sob. But I’m in too much pain, physical and emotional, to care how I sound.
“Lincoln, what’s wrong?”
“Can you come over? It’s unlocked.” I rasp in a choked voice.
“Already on my way.” Keys jingle, and a door slams in the background. My phone clatters to the floor. I have no energy, so I slump against the wall and slide down until I’m sitting in a heap on the cold bathroom floor.
Who knows how much later, the door pushes in, and the light flips on. A sharp gasp echoes around the otherwise silent room, pulling my attention to Remi. His eyes are focused on the cracked mirror speckled with dots of red. His gaze tracks those droplets, following them down to the counter, over the sink, and across the otherwise pristine white tile floor.
I’m tucked into the corner of the room, knees bent, arms folded on top. My bloody hand hangs limp, dripping into the crimson puddle below.
“Lincoln. Fuck, Preppy.What did you do?” The urgency and pain in his tone are like a punch to the gut, and I struggle for air.
“I’m fallin’ apart on the inside,” I whisper, admitting that I can’t handle all this pressure anymore.
“It hurts.Everything hurts.” The last bit escapes on a tumultuous breath filled with pain of the non-physical variety.
He drops to his knees beside me. “Let me see your hand.” Remi gently grasps my wrist, setting my palm in his so he can inspect the damage.
His usual grin is nowhere to be found. Instead, his sharp jaw is clenched tightly, and his eyes are focused on my torn flesh.
“We’ll figure this out. I promise you, Lincoln.”
He says that now, but what if this ends when he sees how broken I am? When he decides he’s had enough friends with benefits? And just wants to be friends. Or maybe not even that.
The intense pain at that thought spears through me, stealing the breath from my lungs.
A life without Remi.
Going back to what it was before him. The loneliness.
I can’t do it. I won’t do it.
I need him.
Remi’s soothing voice pulls me back to the present. “Focus on me, Linc. Focus on my words. I need you, too. I’ve needed you every moment of every day since the second I spotted you pulling into school on your moped. I couldneverforget you. Not in a million years. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Oh, God. I said that out loud.
My breathing picks up, turning ragged, and my heart hammers violently against my ribcage.
A cool palm touches my cheek, guiding my gaze back to his.
Everything feels disjointed, out of touch.
