anymore, and he’s not using you. Have sex with him or not, but either way, he’s not going to care and he’s not going anywhere.”
She leaves, letting the bathroom door slam behind her. I can only laugh. Kelsey’s trust is hard to earn, yet she seems to understand Adam more than I do.
Adam never stays with anyone for long, and while I’ve tried to mentally keep my distance from him, my heart has never once received the message. It’s gone forward, full speed ahead, and fallen completely in love with the unattainable sex god of Denver U.
Admitting it to myself silently in the mirror, I feel my pulse quicken and make a decision to, for once in my life, follow my heart. I will worry about healing my heart when it breaks and not a minute before.
“You can do this,” I tell myself in the mirror.
I shake my head again, feeling foolish for talking to myself in the mirror, and go back to find Adam. To tell him I’m sure. To tell him that I want him. I want to feel his hands all over every part of me.
But as soon as I open the door to the bathroom, I want to take back every good thought I’ve ever had about him.
Because plastered against the wall in the hallway is Britnee, and Adam is the one doing the plastering. Every single inch of his long frame pushes against her. She has a fist holding his tie between them and his hands are against the brick wall, his lips pressed against hers … moving.
I stand there, frozen. Unable to move, unable to speak, and unable to scream that he’s the biggest fucking asshole in the whole world.
Why?
Because I knew this would happen going into it. I knew this would happen from the day he asked me to tutor him in Statistics. My damn, stupid, romantic heart, thinking he would change for me – because of me - is the only idiot. My head knew he would never change.
As if she knew to expect me, Britnee pushes him back but keeps a fist around his tie. I want to break that hand with its acrylic French manicured nails. Slowly. Ripping every single one off and taking her real nail in the process.
Adam jumps back and spins around to face me. “I was just coming to check on you.” He takes the back of his hand and wipes his mouth, smearing her hot pink hooker lipstick all over his mouth and his hand.
“Seems like you got side-tracked.” My voice is cold, unforgiving, and Adam flinches at my tone.
“It’s not what you think. She just grabbed me.” He turns to Britnee, who is still smiling at me with her back against the wall. One hand is still wrapped around Adam’s forearm and he yanks it off his arm, throwing her hand down. He glares at her quickly before his eyes return to mine.
I roll my shoulders back and hold my head high, because I don’t need him. I don’t need anyone. I push past him in the hallway. He will not humiliate me. I’m a Thompson and we don’t get humiliated. We’re better than that. I’m better than him.
The thought shocks me. For once, I agree with my mom. I am better than him.
“Amy, wait.” I know he’s following me, but I don’t stop. I grab my clutch and my cell phone from the table without missing a step. I get to the doorway that leads outside, when I suddenly see Brendan. He’s an asshole. He’s on the football team and thinks every guy should kiss his feet and every girl should suck his dick just because he can throw a ball made from a murdered pig. He’s hit on me more times than I count in the last two years.
Before I can think about what I’m doing, my hands are clasped behind his neck and his lips are mine. He grunts and his eyes fly wide open at first, but because he’s that big of a dick, he quickly takes control. His tongue pushes into my mouth and I have to swallow down the bile in my throat. He reeks of beer. I don’t care and I don’t let it stop me.
I can feel the first crack of heartache hit my chest as Brendan pulls me to him, his erection tight in his tuxedo pants.
“What the fuck!” Adam yells.
One second
Learning to Kill: Stories