Even The Playing Field | BOOK #1 IN THE PSU SERIES

fifty-three

Naomi Black

I did what I did best and I went back to my apartment, grabbed my books and started studying. Figuring that if I was studying I wouldn't have to focus on the fact that I was going to lose it all soon.

If I told Matti about this he would lose his mind on Blake's dad. But Blake needs his dad to get into his future career. Karla could hurt Matti's chances of going to the right team for him. Everything was a mess.

I felt like I created a mess again.

Maybe I could say 'let's go on a break until after the draft'. That way I could ensure Matti got in, but that still doesn't mean that I would do residency in the hospital or that Blake would become a successful political science opponent in the workforce.

And so I sat there with my nose digging into the pages about the World Health Organization until my head hurt. But even when it hurt I continued to read because anything was better than focusing on the fact that there was no right answer.

Nothing was going to work out in my favor.

If I told Matti that would be bad.

If I told Blake that would be bad.

If I didn't end it that would be bad.

And then I felt it. I'm literally going to throw up all over this book if I don't get to the bathroom now.

I dash to the bathroom and slam the door shut behind me, locking it—throwing open the toilet lid and emptying my stomach until it's just bile that flows from my mouth. My stomach keeps lurching itself up into my throat, trying to release itself out of my mouth.

Almost as if it were a metaphor.

The truth of me wanting to tell Matti and Blake, but I just couldn't there would be way too much damage caused to them if I told them both. But if I kept it to myself there would be only minimal damage to me.

I wipe my mouth with the side of my arm and flush the toilet and then proceed to lay my head down on my arm.

I loved him so much it hurt but if you love something let it go.

I stood up from the toilet and looked at myself in the mirror, in front of the sink. My hands found themselves on the edge of the sink, gripping it to the point that my knuckles turned white.

I was so tired of this always happening to me. Just when I became happy I was shown that I wasn't worthy of happiness. It was like mom was showing me I couldn't take anything for granted and that I could never let my guard down.

Maybe mom sent me Blake and Matti to show me that it is okay to trust men, just not to be with them.

But I was so tired of this, mom.

It was a fucking toxic relationship with her—I swear. One step forward, five steps backwards.

My hands trailed their way up to my butterfly tattoo and traced the pattern along the marking, like how Matti would when we were laying in bed.