This series is to be published!!
Thank you to everyone who has supported the story from the beginning!
The published version differs from this version, but I'll leave this version up for now.
I will update those who are interested in reading the f...
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~Chase~
The lazy snow stuck to my coat. For a while now New Yorkers are starting to see a drastic change within the winter season. Less snow, more breezy cold air. I stomp my black boots on the carpet and ruffle my hair, letting the snow fall to the ground.
Angelina watched as I make my way to the couch. She wore a white blouse and a miniskirt. When I sat down in front of her, I wiped my tired eyes from the lack of sleep. This whole sober thing has been fucking with me. And it's only been three weeks since I started.
She smiles at me, I find it hard to return the gesture. I don't even want to be here. I should be in Pennsylvania with Amelia, not here with this chick, and telling her all my issues. "Is there any way I can switch therapists to a man?" I ask her.
She crossed her legs in her seat, exposing her skin. I dimmed my eyes away and looked up at the ceiling.
"We have a few. But they have full clientele," she informs me.
God I fucking hate this.
"So where did we leave off last time?" She questions while flipping through her bright-ass pink notebook. The sight of it makes me think of Amelia.
There was a day during last semester when I went by the Millers to see her. She had just gotten back from her classes. I passed Alex in his office talking on the phone and returned the wave gesture he'd given me. Walking up the stairs, I could hear her listening to an annoying girl's band music. I think she called them BLW, 3LW, or some shit I wouldn't be interested in.
I mean why the fuck do they keep repeating the same words over every line of lyrics. Promises, promises, fellas, fellas, drama, drama. Blah-blah, that shit is annoying. But there was my girl jamming to the music, and tapping her pen onto that bright pink notebook.
"How can you study over this ear-bursting music?" I shout over her song, that seems to be about a girl that can't seem to tolerate her boyfriend's repetitive toxic behavior. If it was four months ago, I would've simply said, then don't date that dick.
But now I am that dick.
She smiled up at me and ran to me. Her arms wrapped around my neck. My hand falls to her hips and she gives me a welcoming kiss. She stammered back and her face was filled with disgust. I stepped back knowing she smells the blunt that I had just smoked before coming here.
"Sorry." I wipe my lips as if that would get rid of the smell of weed and tacky Dutch wrapper.
She smiles at me and placed her hands behind her back. Then she said, "It's ok."
