Page 39 of At My Worst

“Why don’t you eat, and I will clean up?” he says, embarrassment fills his voice.

“Okay.”

He gets up from the seat and makes his way back behind the bar, grabbing the pans. He doesn’t look at me as he turns and pushes through the swinging doors to the back.

Alexander and I are both damaged in different ways, but still damaged. I can tell he is guarded with the world and puts on a show of how strong he is, but I can see right through the bullshit. The masks he wears are the same ones I do. The masks are meant to hide our fears and our past. The mask that says I am okay, I am good, when really inside, we are not okay, and we are not fine. The mask we are hoping protects us from the outside world because we don’t know how much more we can take before we completely fucking break down.

His past haunts him, just like mine haunts me.

I pull out my phone and swipe, scrolling down to one of my best friends. I hover my finger over her name, take a deep breath, and slowly set it down on the bar counter.

I have been texting my friends but haven’t spoken to them on the phone yet. They know something is wrong, with all the excuses I have been coming up with, but honestly, I just don’t know what to say to them. I am still trying to figure out everything; if anything, I am more confused. I should have left this town weeks ago, but the thought of leaving is starting to make me feel sick.

Last night changed something for me. I don’t know what it is, but a big part of me wants to figure out what this is between me and Alexander. I have never met anyone like him before.

A man who doesn’t judge me for my sexual desires.

A man who doesn’t look at me weirdly because of the books I read.

A man that doesn’t shut me out but wants to talk about my feelings.

It is all new to me. He is new to me, and I already know I have fallen in love with him deep down.

That fact alone scares the living fuck out of me because that means I also already know that I am going to fuck it up.

Just like I fuck up everything else.

16

Alexander

“Every Breath You Take”by Chase Holfelder

Ihave already arranged for Josh to watch over the bar for the next few days. I want to take Bianca to my other spot. I love how she is down to go with me to places. She is down to go for an adventure; honestly, it is refreshing. My ex didn’t want to do anything. She lost interest in things quickly and always wanted to do what she wanted. She had no problem doing things without me.

Bianca is different. She listens and is fucking interested in what I have to say.

Her meeting my Pop like that threw me off, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t embarrassed. I love him, don’t get me wrong, but the town knows what he does. The booze has become the most important thing in his life, and I want to make sure I don’t go down that same road.

Most people think I will become just like him. Eventually, drowning my sorrows with a never-ending bottle of booze, butI have other plans. I will keep the tavern going, but I will make sure I am nothing like him.

It’s not his fault that he is the way he is, not really. I get it. He doesn’t know how to function without my mom. She was the glue that kept us all together, and when we lost her, we both lost a piece of us with her. This is why one-night stands and not becoming attached used to be my thing until Bianca.

The idea of sticking to our original arrangement of keeping it strictly physical between us makes me sick to my stomach. The thought of anyone other than me touching her makes my vision red and my pulse race.

I can’t not give her me or at least what is left of me. It is too fucking easy with her.

I pull up to her house and sit back in my seat.

It is quarter to five, and she should be getting off work in fifteen minutes. I know I am early, but I wanted to make sure I was here as soon as she got off.

It will take us about an hour to reach where I want to take her.

I lay my head back and close my eyes. My heart races as memories come back that I don’t think I will ever forget.

I lean forward and watch Brittany on the couch. I have forgotten what we are even fighting about.

“We don’t need to do things together all the time, Alex,” she says.

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