Page 67 of Organized Chaos
Milo and Raven had an awful falling out before she moved to Paris. They didn’t even want to be in the same room anymore.
As a result, my life had mimicked that of a child of divorce. It was a weird analogy, but the only suitable one. Their separation was an ugly divorce with alternating holidays and pressure to take sides.
My birthday had become a point of discord. Every year, I found myself praying they’d simply forget. No such luck.
One year, Raven offered to fly me out to Paris. Milo also planned something for the same weekend. Since he worked all the time, I agreed to go with Milo’s plans, rescheduling with Raven for the following weekend. Raven gave me no grief with a “whatever you want” smile. Later, I found out she’d spent a lot of money to take Gabby and me on a surprise weekend cruise.
I felt like the worse scum on earth.
Holidays were worse. I spent part of my winter break in New York and the rest in Paris. This year was no different, except Milo invited me to Nice for New Year’s while Raven and Reid opted for a trip to Barcelona. If I had gone with them, Milo would have spent his New Year’s Eve working, having gotten into the habit of pushing his friends away.
No matter what I chose, I was letting one of them down. And cutting this trip short only made it seem like I was picking Raven over him. It was furthest from the truth. Milo was my favorite person in the world.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I didn’t realize how many assignments I still had to finish over winter break.”
“You can do them here.”
“I forgot my books and... I’m getting really stressed out about the workload. It’ll be better if I return to Paris.”
He gazed, bleary-eyed. “I got us tickets to a comedy show tomorrow.”
“You don’t speak French.”
“It’s a British comedian.” When I didn’t respond, he followed up with, “They also serve dinner. It’s supposed to be really good.” I caught the slight trace of disappointment in his tone.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t meet Milo’s gaze, feeling incredibly guilty in the expensive room Milo had paid for while Brandon stayed in the same hotel.
“I’m so sorry. I should have planned better,” I tried to soften the blow.
The trees rustled outside through the clear window, and it appeared to be a cold, windy night. However, it was colder inside this room.
Milo watched me dispassionately without uttering another word. He wouldn’t argue over my need for academic excellence, but he could also sniff out my bullshit like a bloodhound.
“Okay,” he replied at long last as he shut the door behind him. There was no emotion behind the word, yet it spoke volume.
With two hands on my face, I sagged against the tall mirror, body depleted from exhaustion and mind fucked beyond all rationale.
