The Pitcher's Act

27

OLIVIA

I lay in the dark, wide awake. It's silent, not a single sound flowing through the apartment.

I stare at the ceiling, unsure of what to do. She was there. In his room.

They kissed.

I feel so fucking stupid for thinking a man can change so quickly. I feel so stupid for falling for a man who straight-up told me he never wanted to be in a relationship. He didn't want the commitment. He straight-up told me he wasn't a romantic and never would be.

All of this just after he took me on a date. All this happened after I swooned over him to Sadie and Crawford in the living room, telling them how it went, how he was such a gentleman the entire time, and how he held my hand the whole way home.

Pathetic.

It was the bare minimum. It's sad that I was so excited about him opening the car door for me. Plenty of men would do that for me.

I haven't cried. Not a single tear. I don't know why. Maybe I'm not that upset. I'm just annoyed. I guess that's what I get for making him choose between losing me and wanting me.

He doesn't want me.

He wants my body. That's why he always is touching me. He holds me like I'm his prized possession. His slut. His cleat chaser, as he always called the girls who desire him.

I turned my phone off the moment I ripped
my curtain shut. I feel like it was on purpose that he was in his bedroom with her. He wanted me to see him with her.

I don't want to talk to him.

I don't want to talk to anyone.

A knock on my door interrupts me. That didn't take long. I ignore it.

"Liv?" The sound of my roommate's voice fills the room. Bella.

I ignore her. She jiggles my door handle. "Are you okay?" She asks.

"I'm fine," I curtly say, ignoring the closing of my throat and the tears rimming my eyes.

Shit.

I breathe deeply. Don't cry. Don't cry. Wait till she leaves.

"Can I come in?"

I consider it. She would make me feel better about the situation. "No. I just want to be alone." A tear drips down my face.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm okay. Go back to Bernie's."

She doesn't say anything for a minute, but I can still see her outside my door from her shadow creeping in from the door's crack.

"I love you," she says before walking down the hallway, leaving me in silence once again.

The tears fall. I can't stop them, nor do I want them to stop. I'll admit it. It hurts. I feel used.

I heard him a few minutes ago on the balcony. He tried to get in. I outsmarted him. I locked it.

I don't want to think, see, hear, or talk to Colby Jones until the end of eternity. I know that won't happen because our play is Friday.

Tomorrow.

I hadn't realized how quickly it came. How this performance is my only grade, and if we do poorly, I fail.

I don't know what to do. I don't want to talk to him. I don't want to see him. I want to rot in this bed until I die.

I'll just have to focus on my friends until Friday, solely until I'm forced to see him. I'll make Sadie pretend to be Romeo and read the lines. We will just skip over the kissing scenes.