Angelina
I drive home from rehearsal and park my car in front of my place.
I don't know how I've managed to get up in the morning. To get myself to school. I'm like the walking dead. I can't eat. Don't sleep. I pick up my phone and stare at it, hoping to see something from Jared, but it never comes.
I tried him a few times at first. I apologized for my dad's behavior. Told him I didn't feel the same way and I really needed to see him. But he didn't text back.
So I guess I know where I stand with him. We're done.
And that thought makes me throw up. I get out of the car and wretch, but nothing comes up.
Ugh. Between not being able to eat and throwing up every time I realize it's over with Jared, I've already lost five pounds.
That should make my mom happy.
But no. I'm done with my mom. Done with my dad. I wouldn't say this is exactly their fault, because I'm adult enough to own my part in it. If I didn't let my parents run my life, Jared would've known their disapproval wouldn't sway me from our relationship.
But I did let them run my life.
I let them choose my career. My appearance. My college. Even my friends, to some extent-at least in high school. But no more. They're not choosing my boyfriends.
They don't get any say on who I date. Who I sleep with. Who I marry. If I want to marry a drug-dealing gangster with gold teeth, they'll have to deal or lose their relationship with me. If I choose to marry a woman, they'll deal. If I choose anything at all that offends them, that's their damn problem.
And I'm not going there for Sunday dinners anymore, either.
It's time for me to live my life for me.
I enter my house, cringing at all the memories that crowd me the moment I walk in. Jared, chasing me down the hall. Holding me on his lap on the couch. Bringing home takeout. Jared laughing. Listening. Paying so much attention to me.
A knock sounds at the door and for one half-second, I imagine it might be him. My heart leaps and soars before I remember it can't be him. He's cut me loose.
I peek through the pinhole. It's Jared's friend Trey, another bouncer at the club. The guy with thoughtful eyes and a pierced lip.
I open the door, not surprised to see him. I figured one of their pack would be coming by sooner or later. "Hey."
Trey appears uncomfortable. "Hey."
"You here to wipe my mind?" I see a flicker of relief in his expression, but he quickly takes on a sincere look.
"Not your mind. Just a few memories."
"No, take them all. I don't want to remember Jared even exists." I can't keep the bitterness from my voice.
Jared gave up on us. He abandoned me. I'm not sure I'll ever forgive him for that. Good thing I won't have to.
Surprise flickers over Trey's face and a trace of something else. Anger? "Yeah?"
I shrug, grinding my teeth to keep down the swell of emotion threatening to flood through me. I don't want to cry in front of Trey. I just need this all to be over. "Yeah."
Trey won't let it drop. He's definitely gone cold now. He steps aside and waves me out of the house, but as he trails me to the Range Rover parked in front, he says, "You're mad at him, huh?"
My nose burns, eyes prick. "I don't want to talk about it." I can't keep the tears out of my voice.
He stops and leans against the car, studying me. "Did you break it off with him or him with you?"
A tear falls and I curse and wipe it back. "None of your business." If Jared didn't tell him, I'm sure as hell not going to.
His jaw tightens. "Actually, it is kind of my business. Jared's my best friend. He's been killing himself for the past two weeks trying to make himself worthy of you, but I guess it wasn't enough."
The accusation stings. So much more than I would've thought possible. It's like a freaking javelin's gone through my chest.
Tears spill from both my eyes, tracking down my cheeks. "That's not true."
"Do you know about the gym?"
I shake my head, biting my lip to keep Trey from seeing it wobble.
"He's started coaching underprivileged kids in boxing. Says he wants to use his talents to give back to the world. Something about being a modern day warrior or knight."
My heart lurches, tightens with overwhelming tenderness. Teaching boxing to underprivileged kids? He's a freakin' saint. Talk about heroes. But I never needed that from him. He was already a hero. "That's so amazing. But I never asked him to change for me." I need Trey to know that.
Trey's face remains stony. "Have you seen the other warehouse?"
I shake my head and mop the tears with my hands.
He opens the door for me. "Get in. I'm going to show you first. You ought to know what you're giving up before you wipe him out of your existence."
My temper flares. "I'm not wiping him." I poke his chest with my finger, even though I know he could crush me with flick of his hand. "He's the one who gave up on us. I guess I didn't mean as much to him as he meant to me."
Trey's expression dissolves into sympathy. "Come on." His voice is more gentle now. "I really have to show you something."
I get in the vehicle and fish a tissue out of my purse to blow my nose.
Trey drives us to the same warehouse where I saw the fight. Sure enough, in the daylight, I can see a freshly painted sign on the warehouse on one end-Boxing Gym. The warehouse in the middle is where I saw the fight.