Delicate

1. Olivia

Three months earlier...

I feel sick to my stomach. I wish I could just throw up and be done with this feeling, but it's not from drinking too much, or food poisoning, or anything like that. I'm just sick of my life and the shitty position I put myself in.

Getting turned down for your ninth job interview sucks. And it was for a hair salon. Like, really? All I'd be doing is bookwork. It can't be that fucking hard. I'm starting to think there's no hope. That's what makes me so damn sick. Like there's nothing I can do, and I'm just screwed.

It's been three weeks since I got expelled from the university. It was all over alcohol. They have a zero tolerance policy. So of course getting kicked out also meant losing my scholarships. And losing my scholarships meant losing my income, plus my part-time job in the registrar's office. Which means when the rent is due, I'm fucked if I can't hurry up and land a job already.

As if this wasn't already the worst month of my life, my mother won't even answer my calls. It's her idea of tough love. Yeah, I know I fucked up. I don't need to hear it again. It's not like this is what I usually do. Like I went to college and suddenly became a horrible person. I was in all the honors classes in high school. I was a teacher's pet.

I've gotten straight A's my entire life, except for that one C in Advanced Literature. Fuck English, I only took the class because I had to in order to fulfill my graduation requirements.

I've always been a brown-noser, as Cheryl calls me.

Fuck, Cheryl. It's her fault!

I bite my lip and cross my arms over my chest to warm myself up. I shake my head, trying not to be bitter about it all. It's not really Cheryl's fault. She may have put the bottle in my hand, but she didn't make me drink. She was only trying to help. After all, it's not every day that your first real boyfriend, the man you gave your virginity to, dumps you for someone prettier.

Tears prick my eyes, but I'm sure as shit not going to cry over him. I'll cry over my self-esteem though, because that shit hurt. When I asked him how he could just break up with me like our relationship meant nothing to him, he just shrugged and said her tits were bigger. Fucking asshole. How did I ever fall for him?

Daniel Croast is hot and athletic, and really knows how to lay on the charm.

But he's a fucking dick. I knew this, yet I still fell for him. I still spread my legs for him and let him take every last piece of me that he wanted.

Curse my fucking hormones. Tall, with broad shoulders. He played on the rugby team and there's just something about men crashing into each other and taking those brutal hits; it makes my pussy pulse with desire. I'm not a biology major, but it was definitely my fucked-up hormones.

I fell in lust, not love.

I finally had a boyfriend and friends. Real friends who liked me for me. Cheryl may be a bad influence and not have a clue about how the real world works, but deep down I know she cares about me.

Drinking on campus in the dorms was stupid though.

Real fucking stupid. I just went there to cry to Audrey about everything, and instead we ended up drinking. I even thought, No, we should go to our apartment if we're going to be drinking. Shit, that's the entire reason we got the apartment off-campus.

But I felt horrible, and my friends were all around me, and I just wanted to feel better.

I fucking hate that RA prick that busted us. I swear he's got a stick shoved up his ass. He can go to hell for all I care.