Page 31 of Bitter Truths

I’m confused and heart-sore over his confession because I guess I can agree. Even when he was being the worst human being possible, being near him was better than nothing at all.

Fuck, but he’s just as crazy as I am. What a cluster.

“C’mon, it’s a nice day. Let’s go hang out in the quad,” Aaron says behind me before ruffling my hair.

Chuffing, I close my history book and turn to him with a smile. “What’s got you so happy?”

His dark hair is tousled, as though he just rolled out of bed. Combined with his sparkling eyes, he exudes a sexy rumpled look without even trying.

He’s a catch for any girl or guy, but I’ve never heard him mention anyone beyond salacious comments from afar.

“Nothing, nothing. I just passed all my summer classes with As,” he says with a grin.

“That’s great! I’m so happy for you. I know you stressed about it.”

“Yep, so let’s go.”

“What’s in the quad?”

“Green grass, fresh air, sunlight,” he says dramatically, spreading his arms wide.

“Okay, okay,” I grumble, grabbing my sandals.

“A little vitamin D won’t kill you, Hals,” he teases.

We grab a drink from the coffee shop at the student union before finding a tree to sit under.

“So, how was therapy? Any good morsels to share?” Aaron asks playfully.

Rolling my eyes dramatically, I smile because although the sunshine and breeze are good—which I’ll never admit out loud since he’s ever so smug already—he’s the fresh air I need, even if he doesn’t know it. It’s too hard to hide some aspects of my life, so when I admitted to my struggles with depression, I also confirmed I was getting treatment.

We don’t talk about the specifics, but I’ve shared a few techniques passed on to me, which may be why we’re sitting in the sunshine as we speak.

“Not much, just rehashing the summer,” I grumble.

“Excellent! What’s your counselor like? Is he or she hot?”

Laughing, I tap his arm. “He is Professor Marks. Have you ever taken one of his classes?”

“Hells yeah, and he’s cute,” he says playfully.

“Huh,” I say, sipping on my drink. It’s hard to think of Dr. Marks as a human being who might be hot when he holds my pain in the palm of his hand.

Besides, he gets to see behind the mask, which makes him too close to my truth to be put in any category that includes the term hot.

“Ooh, code red to my right. And this one is hot with a capital H.” Aaron pretends to wipe drool from his lips.

By now, I’ve become accustomed to Aaron’s incessant need to comment on every beautiful person he sees, whether guy or girl, so it’s with affection that I sigh as I glance that way. But I freeze when I find Jason Macklemore playing frisbee with his friends.

He’s grinning, happy and carefree, and once again, I’m annoyed. Why does he get to walk through life unfettered?

He has that stupid restraining order, but please, I’m supposed to feel bad because he has to leave when I arrive somewhere? The dick blackmailed me, abused more than one girl, and has yet to have a black cloud over his soul. He walks around with total immunity as though his shit don’t stink while we, his victims, can barely speak for the shame coating our skin. How does he get up every morning and look at himself in the damn mirror?

These thoughts remind me of Miranda and our shared look of misery the last time I saw her. I didn’t know her story, which is my pathetic excuse, when I brought up Jason to get Griffin to back off her in a fit of jealousy. Whatever was going on in Griffin’s damn head was a complete fucking mystery. At any rate, it put her in an uncomfortable position, and to my shame, I never reached out to her after. I should have because if anyone knows what she’s going through, it’s me.

With a sigh, I resolve to be a better person and text her as Aaron salivates over my rapist and the jerk who fucked my brother.

Fuck my life.

---