Pretending (Westshore Series #1)

Chapter Sixty: I'm Sorry

**not edited yet

JULIET'S POV

I stumble toward the dorm, everyone's words echoing in my brain like an endless taunt.

I wiped a clammy palm against my thigh.

You're a liar and a terrible person. Your mom was right about you all along, the insidious voice in my head taunted. You're the worst thing that's ever happened to everyone around you.

"Shut up."

This is why you never had any friends growing up. Why no one loves you. You don't deserve—

The jumble of voices in my head sharpens the ache into a piercing pain. The walls press in until the phantom scrape of white plaster against my skin roils in my stomach.

I wasn't claustrophobic but right now my thoughts were trapping me in a cage so small I was suffocating with each breath.

Tears blur my vision, and I'm not even sure If I'm going in the right direction, but I don't care. I just need to get away.

From the guilt of lying to everyone. From the disappointment in Warner's gaze.

From the knowledge that I've fucked up and had no one else to blame but myself.

I swiped at my cheeks with the back of my hand, but it was like trying to sweep water back into the ocean. Utterly futile.

I knew there was a chance that Warner would react badly to the truth. I just hadn't expected him to react that badly.

The worst part was, that he was right. I hadn't trusted him enough to tell the truth. I'd been so blinded by my insecurities, so terrified of destroying one of the few beautiful things in my life, that I turned its destruction into a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Warner hadn't cared that I messed up or that I relapsed.

He'd only cared that I lied to him.

I was such a fucking idiot.

I wasn't there but you could've called. You know I would've left the second you called if something was wrong.

I should've just told him right away. I just kept digging a deeper and deeper hole for myself with each lie I told him and my friends.

My friends still didn't know what a screw-up I was.

Fresh needles of pain pierce my chest. My heart burns like someone has raked it over hot coals, and I can't drag enough air into my lungs. Maybe it was because every breath hurt.

Every breath, every heartbeat, every blink. Normal bodily functions all hurt.

I hated myself

Even my body hated me

Why couldn't I just be a normal college student? Why did every day have to be such a struggle? Why couldn't I just be normal?

"Get yourself together," I hiccup walking to my building.

I close my eyes, wishing with everything in me that I could turn back time and redo all my decisions over the past month.

How have I fucked up my own life so badly?

I open my eyes again, not wanting to spend too long in my thoughts. They would just torture me.

I walk through the dark, silent dorm floor, my steps unnaturally loud against the floor. Everyone was still at the event so I didn't have to field questions about why I looked like such a hot mess.