Page 102 of Faking Forever 1
It’s not even close to the summer fling I had imagined all school year. I have no man, I’m stuck in a damn hurricane, and I probably look like a rat, so whoeverdoesfind me certainly isn’t going to sweep me off my feet. If anything, he’ll ditch me and save himself. It leaves me wondering why all of my luck is bad—and what fucking witchcraft Darcy is performing behind closed doors to always end up winning.
She could probably teach a million women how to scam their way through relationships and climb the ladder of social success, and I bet she would become a billionaire if she did. Not only that, but I would be purchasing it myself. Then maybe I won’t be finding myself in dear death experiences in exchange for one guy who agreed to a fake relationship with me.
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I’m starting to believe he dodged a bullet by avoiding the real thing.
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JOSHUA
Of all days, it would be a day that was somewhat important to me that we would get hurricane warnings. My phone had given me a few warnings as I was making my way to the Firehall. I didn’t need the warning after having to dodge different-sized tree branches in the blistering winds, but I appreciate the efforts of the stupid little device. It would be helpful if it could magically make Paisley text me back. I tried to be decent and not desperately ask if we could talk. It seems like that’s all I’m ever asking anymore.
I just asked if she was still coming to this damn banquet—
that honestly I’ve completely lost the plot to now.
Initially, this was supposed to be a joyous, liberating day, but already I’m feeling sick about everything. I even told Beau I would pick him up so I could keep myself focused. I won’t say he isn’t helpful, but he’s no better than me, yapping about Sierra all day long. He’s lucky I’m refraining from bringing 246
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up Paisley because he’d be miserable. I’ll never admit we’re having problems, for her sake. Running around and telling everyone everything feels like backstabbing now—even to our closest friends.
The bigger roadblock that I’ve run into is time. I‘m running out of it every second I procrastinate, so I miss out on large opportunities. I miss out on amazing things and regret many things because of it. I don’t want to regret not attending a fantastic school in the city because I’m afraid of rejection. To put it more plainly, I’m afraid of what the letter from Vermont State will say. If it’s no, it’s going to hurt worse than Nick mushing my nose inside my face.
I’ve been waiting for the letter for weeks now, and then I have to plan and make more decisions. It’s causing me to lose sleep, and the longer I leave it lying there, the more it haunts me. I’ve come as close to beginning to open it, but clearly, I didn’t get any further. It’s crossed my mind that this is my karma for never having any real drive until recently—
or anything else on my long list of sins, but mostly being a jackass in life. Seeing how easy it is for other people makes me physically enraged that they’re so self-assured.
I’ve been banking on the idea that if I go stay at a university, it probably won’t suck as badly once I’m stationed and comfortable. I didn’t get to branch out, except at camp, to people whom I wouldn’t see again for years. Cliche as it may be, finding new hobbies, friends, and possible colleagues when you graduate and figure out your career is ritualistic. I want that. I want to be able to compare my experience to someone around me and not feel slighted by doing the bare minimum.
I never shared that with Paisley, Beau, or even Sierra. As an alternative, I watched everyone flourish from the sidelines 247
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while complaining that it wasn’t me. With that said, I’m not so sure why I continue to procrastinate and torture myself.
Here is my realization that I’m just too much of a pussy for hard truths.
* * *
Something that you could be looking for, for so long, can be ruined in seconds. I’ve been looking forward to giving a speech to my father for quite some time. More than that, I’ve been looking forward to Paisley seeing me differently. I’m no longer immature and careless, and I have a future ahead of me. I managed to fuck up that plot in her mind by now, I’m sure. I have yet to see her walk into the firehouse.
I pissed her off more than I thought, I guess.
My will to present myself in front of these folks has diminished into nothing. Something about her aura—her presence, makes me the most confident man in the room, without a doubt. There is nothing that I can’t nor won’t do for her. To see her smile is like putting the devil in heat. I would kill to see that smile tonight. Something to give me just a bit of serotonin to pull through. It must really be over if she’s not showing.
I’m downing glasses of champagne as if that’ll take the edge off, but instead, it’s enhancing the reminders that she’s not here to enjoy this event with me. I want to fast forward and get to the part where I chase after her one last time—lord knows that I will when this is over. I know she would’ve just come with her family early, as we talked. If it wasn’t, then it won’t be ever, and certainly not during a storm.
It was getting profusely louder outside as if the wind was angry at something. The universe was sounding unsettled—
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