Page 122 of Under the Influence

“Yeah.”

My mom steps back, surprised. “Okay, well, I’ll drive you to school in the morning then.”

“Okay.”

Her questionable look lingers a second in the doorway before she leaves. I can’t help but lay here and imagine what my life would be like if things happened differently.

The what-ifs eat me alive. They come so easily.

What if my dad never cheated?

What if I never met Madden?

What if Nash didn’t have it out for me?

Would I still have Drayton? Would I have even met him?

What’s ironic is that the happy life my parents always promised couldn’t possibly make me as happy as all of the people that their fuck ups brought me.

Just the thought of losing Drayton forever feels like a knife to the chest because even though I haven’t said it out loud, I love him.

What hurts the most, though—and pisses me off more than anything— is that when I finally feel like this, I’m forced to shove it down.

I’m furious with Nash, that he threatened me. I am upset that he wants to hurt Drayton so much, and there is nothing I can do about it. He has me in a chokehold, and I don’t have the leverage I need to keep my boyfriend.

A pecking sound interrupts my thoughts, and I shift my eyes from left to right, wondering where it’s coming from. I blow it off, thinking I must be hearing things until I hear it again, louder this time. I slip off my bed, stepping to the window to see if something is outside.

I pull the pink curtains back, and my breath catches. Drayton is waiting there in dark jeans and Vans, his hands shoved into his pockets. He looks so hot it literally hurts to look at him. I unlock the window and push it up slowly.

“What are you doing here?” I whisper, looking back to make sure no one is near my door.

“Why won’t you text me back?” he barks.

I hold my finger up, signaling to wait a minute, and walk across my room to shut and lock my door.

“Are you trying to get me in trouble?”

“I can go knock,” he grins. “Your mom likes me.”

“No,” I rush. “Just tell me what you want.”

“I want to know why you are ignoring me.” His words are shaky and frustrated. He pulls his hands from his pockets, gripping the windowsill.

“I just need some space, Dray.”

He glares at me, “It didn’t seem like you needed space when you were coming apart on my hand before school.”

I chew on my lip, pissed at myself for trying to lie to him. Again.

“Just tell me the truth. Whatever it is, I can handle it,” he demands.

He shouldn’t have to handle it, though. He talks about his dad like he hung the moon. It would devastate him to know any different. Besides, I know what it’s like to have your family ripped apart like that. I guess it’s different since his father is gone now, but still, I love his mom, and I don’t want to hurt her either.

“The truth is that I thought I was ready for this, but I’m not.”

He barges in through my window, grabbing both of my cheeks, “Bullshit.”

I stare at him for what seems like forever, my mouth going completely dry, my sanity a little fuzzy.