Page 3 of Anger

The words must be right.

I’ve practiced them in my head for the past week.

I’ve talked to myself in front of a mirror like a little bitch.

I’m terrified.

No matter how I put the words together, they come out jumbled. There’s no way for me to know if they’re enough, if she’ll understand …

If I’m enough.

That can’t stop me. I need to try, need to get this perfect so she’ll know just how much I love her.

Maybe if she knows, I can keep her with me.

I’m leaving for college.

She’s traveling the world.

But I’d give it all up … for her.

Pulling into the parking lot of the school, Ezra parks in our usual spot, his curious stare stabbing me in the side of my head.

“The fuck is up with you this morning?”

My head snaps Ezra’s direction. “Nothing.”

This is what sucks about being twins. He knows me too well. Attempting to lie is as futile as carrying an ice cube between my ass cheeks through the gates of hell hoping it might stay cold enough to keep me from burning.

When he looks at me funny, I give up lying and deflect instead.

“We’re at school. You feel great about it?”

He eyes me. “No.”

“Then you know what the fuck is wrong.”

I jump out of the Jeep before he can ask another question, grab my bag, toss it over my shoulder then stalk toward the building.

All the usual people wave hello or attempt talking to me. Not to be the dick that I am, I nod in response, tilt my chin or slap palms as I keep moving.

Slowing down would be social suicide. I’d have to talk to people. Pretend everything’s okay. Like I’m someone who should be admired or fucking worshipped and shit.

Spoiler alert: I’m not. Not even in the slightest.

Every kid in this school has no idea how good they’ve got it compared to my life, or Ezra’s for that matter.

But we smile regardless. Make it seem like life is fine. Because that’s all anybody can do when you’re trapped in a goddamned nightmare that’s stuck on an endless loop.

Stopping would fuck me up because I’m barely remembering everything I have to say to Emily when I see her. I’m afraid that if I play the role everyone expects of me, all that practice won’t matter. The words will disappear. Justpoof… gone.

And she’ll be gone too.

School goes by, and I go from one class to the next, not paying attention to whatever the hell they were teaching. I couldn’t listen. It would mess me up.

My words must be perfect. I recite them over and over in my head until I think I have them right.

The bell rings for lunch, and it’s now or never.

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