The next few weeks in Gerard’s class were a mixture of annoyance, purposefully breaking rules to piss him off, and an incredible amount of sexual tension. Jessica made sure that I knew of every instance he could be caught looking at me.

“Cool,” I said to her for the umpteenth time that day.

“Have you guys hooked up?” Jessica asked excitedly, leaning over onto my desk.

“No. He’s insufferable. He always tells me I’m doing something wrong and then goes out of his way to talk to me after class.” I didn’t look up at her from my notes, but I could feel her disbelief wafting through the air.

“Charlie, honey, I know you haven’t dated a lot of guys,” she began sarcastically, “but that means he’s trying to find an excuse to spend time with you. It’s pretty obvious to me he has a thing for you, but whatever, girl. Just let that poor pixie man waste away.” She turned back to her own desk, scribbling something down.

As if on cue, Gerard stood up and announced class was over and for everybody to “get the hell out.” When he spoke to the class, he spoke with a light and joking tone so as to not convey the contempt and fucking assholery I knew he had inside. I escaped class with Jessica that day, thrilled that it was Friday. I had a long weekend of relaxing at home, not getting dressed, and doing absolutely nothing.

“Hey, do you maybe want to come over later?” I asked Jessica as we made our way to the market for lunch. She scrunched up her face in thought.

“Maybe. There’s supposed to be a house party at Delta House tonight, and some of my friends wanted me to go, but I’m not sure if I will yet.” I nodded. No problem, I’d just stay in tonight.

---

Hours later, and I sat alone in my apartment. It was almost three in the morning. My phone wasn’t lighting up with messages anymore. I was truly alone.

It was nights like these that I began to ponder everything. The world seemed so loud and I was a tiny voice, trying to get people to either listen to me or be quiet. I wandered to the kitchen to see if I had some soup to heat up, because comfort food was what I needed at that moment. Something to fill my belly with feelings of contentedness, not anxiety.

I passed my nightstand, rattling my pill bottle just to be sure that I didn’t have any xanax left. I didn’t know what I had been expecting-to have been visited by the xanax fairy in the middle of the night, maybe-but my hopes were dashed when the bottle didn’t rattle back. If I was going to sleep, I had to make a run to the 7-11 on the corner.

Instead of making soup, I put on a jacket and some boots over my pajamas before locking up my apartment and walking down the street. I was sure that I looked like a mess, but I wasn’t in any state to be caring. Insomnia makes everything a little toned down. You don’t notice everything, some things you can’t hear at all. It’s like you’re reaching for things that you can never fully grasp because they’re right out of range. You can’t see them, but you know they’re there.

And sometimes, that’s even scarier.

I bought a bottle of sleeping pills and a four dollar bottle of wine. If I ended up still not being able to sleep from the pills, I’d just down the bottle and call it a night. I was giving the cashier my ID when I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“Charlotte?” They said, in disbelief. My heart both sunk and did somersaults at the same time as I turned around and was face to face with my most recent ex-boyfriend. Looking into his face, it was as if I had just ran into him yesterday. He was beaming. “Oh my god, how are you?”

I grimaced, motioning to the things that I was buying. “The same, as you can see. How are you doing, Anthony?” I was genuinely happy to see him. Also a bit frightened.

“Oh, man, am I doing great. I’m on set to finish my degree, I’ve got a solid job and I’ve been hitting the gym everyday, so no time to do much else in between!” He grinned, straightening his arms so I could see just how strong he was. Internally I groaned, but I had to hand it to him, he was still kind of attractive.

“Nice,” I said, paying the cashier and leaned against the door. “Well, I’m going to get lost, but it was good seeing you.”

“Yeah, and Charlotte? If you’d ever want to get a cup of coffee to catch up, I’d really like that,” Anthony said. My heart fluttered in my chest.

“Uh, sure, I would be down for that.” My breathing was shallow and a feeling of...euphoria? was flooding through me. This was the boy that had broken my heart. That had walked away and left me dying. I hadn’t heard from him in three months and then this chance encounter.

“Tomorrow?” He asked hopefully.

“Sure. See you later,” I stepped back out into the night, not sure if I instantly regretted what I did or not.

That morning I sat out on my patio bundled up, listening to music and smoking. The sleeping pills hadn’t done anything, and I was too alone with my thoughts to even consider beginning to relax. Anthony was...something else.

He had been my high school sweetheart gone sour. My first real heartbreak, something I had not completely recovered from, simply pushed further from my mind. He had poisoned me from the inside out, and I hadn’t been able to completely trust a guy since. My family had fought to get me away from him, out of our small town and into the big city to the university. And I was actually going to get coffee with him tomorrow?

The last time we had seen each other it had ended in screaming and slammed doors. Would this time be any different?

I took a large gulp from the bottle of rosé wine and noted, no, probably not.

Notes

Kind of a short, shitty chapter. But PLEASE rate! I want to know how I'm doing. Thanks!!!