I had sex with my best friend.
Twice.
And I actually really considered him my best friend now.
Which was also just as surprising.
But two damn times?
We had sex twice in a row, left the room and acted normal, like we always did, except that he kept holding me around my waist, kissing my neck whenever no one was looking and I didn't push him away, because I kinda liked it.
Later in the night we got bored of everyone, so he took me away, and we made out in the bathroom. Which was very uncharacteristic of me since I was the one who'd thought doing anything inherently sexual in a bathroom was a big, no.
Till I did it.
And it was fun.
But now I was in Summer's car, rethinking all my drunken decisions and wondering if I could suffocate myself with a pillow instead of go to my classes on Monday morning.
I was scared.
Scared that I messed our friendship up, scared that I lost the only good thing I had for some moments of pleasure. I was scared that I made a mistake, one that I couldn't come back from.
My thoughts were in a big confusing haze, and I was torn apart.
So damn confused.
Not wanting to be alone, I stayed with Summer after the party and in the morning I was ready to go, ignoring what happened the night before, and instead thinking about facing my mother.
====
I walk up to the house door the following morning, seeing that my father's car was not there and my mom was probably inside the house since she never left this place.
I sigh knowing I couldn't do anything now, I was here, and I had to come home eventually, I turn the key that i'd put in the lock, unlocking the door, taking a deep breath in, and then out, before opening the door, and walking inside.
When I see her downstairs, cooking. I immediately scoff.
She never once cooked for me since my father had left us.
Not once, not even a cup of coffee, or a sandwich.
"Where were you?" She asks.
"My friends place." I reply, wrapping my arms around myself as I not so discreetly walk over in the direction of my bedroom.
"Are you dating that boy who always comes here to paint with you?"
That stops me right in my tracks.
I know exactly who she's talking about.
Karsen Krist.
"Are you dating that asshole?" I ask her instead, because Karsen was never going to be a problem, he was sweet, charming, protective over the people he care about, he wasn't my father, not even close.
"Watch your mouth Adrienne, thats your father."
I can't help the way my blood boils at those words.
Thats your father. It means nothing to be a father if you don't step up to take the role of one.
I turn back, walking closer to where she was, but still keeping some space between us, "My father?" I asked her.
"The same man who left all responsibilities to me? Who left me to learn how to drive, alone, learn how to change a tire, alone, left me to pay bills, alone? Thats my fucking father?!" I yell, the tears already falling from my eyes before I could stop it and I wipe them away harshly, not wanting her to see the pain linger.
YOU ARE READING
Project You (HIATUS)
RomanceAdrienne Faye's life was a mess. A big mess. A 22 year old struggling college student who was not only financially struggling, she was emotionally struggling too, a girl with no friends other than her novels and thoughts which unfortunately did not...