Life is like a game of dodgeball. Sometimes it chunks things that you can catch and throw right back at it. Sometimes it throws things you can narrowly miss, feeling the wind from it whoosh against your skin. And sometimes, it throws things at you t...
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Fumbling to rearrange all of the rusted wrenches in Dad's dirty old toolbox, I grew annoyed. Even the simplest things weren't working out for me. I began to wonder: when will anything work out for me? Maybe it's just fate for me to be unlucky. It could have been any choice that's ever been made regarding my life. Whether it was my name being chosen, or the exact time I was born, or maybe even the fact that I was born a girl. There's no telling.
It was hot outside. A thin layer of sweat gathered on my forehead. The same layer that I'd wiped off about fifteen times already. Due to the flimsy razorback tank-top I was sporting, I could feel a nice sunburn forming on my shoulders. My cheeks also had the same raw feeling as I wiped sweat off of them, too.
Most people don't like the heat, which is the same case for me. I'd rather die of hypothermia than ever be hot. Cold is the way to go, always. It's easier to cover up with a blanket and get warm than it is to try and cool yourself off when it's hot. And unsurprisingly, since it's the most unfortunate thing that could happen to me, I tend to get hot very often.
Just when I was getting ready to curse the lifeless metal, the sound of footsteps approaching caught my ears. I didn't have to turn around to know it was Braxton. The simple skip in my heartbeat when his scent reached my nostrils was enough of a hint.
Braxton's strong arms slithered around my waist and he rested his chin in the crook of my neck. It was funny, since it seemed like his chin was a perfect fit. Like a puzzle piece. How cute.
"You're burning up, Angel face," he stated, relaxing into me.
My body stayed tense. I had too many things going on to be relaxed, and I couldn't bring myself to fake being careless in front of him. Not this time.
"Oh, really?" I frowned sarcastically, "It's almost like it's hot outside, or something."
I didn't mean for my words to come out so harsh, but once I was started, there was no stopping me. I'd never wanted to be so blunt with Braxton, but because of the weight of everything on my shoulders, adding what I found out yesterday and the heat, which, was doing a number on my tolerance of dumb statements for the day, I'd accidentally let my true feelings slip. He wasn't supposed to find out that I'm upset.
A frown takes over Braxton's face. "Is something wrong?" He asks me, spinning me around. His hands rest simply on my waist; a small gesture that sped up my heart rate. His hands were something that I'd never get tired of.
"No," I fib.
Braxton isn't stupid. I know that. But if I tell him what's really bothering me, that means I'll have to explain a lot more than I'd like to. If I tell him what Tessa told me, there's a high chance he'll admit that it's true. And I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don't know if I truly want to know that Braxton was capable of saying those things about me.
