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Chapter Eight

Tommy's POV:

I finally gave up on finding Adam and just drank a few beers. I could see the room start to spin and started caring less about Adam and more about enjoying myself.

I didn't want to partner with any of the gays here, because Adam would probably get angry, but at this point I didn't care about him. He deserted me at a gay bar and was probably fucking people somewhere in the building.

Emily and Darren finally came out of the back room and Emily seemed to...well she looked different somehow. She glowed.

I got sick of the pounding music and ran into the bathroom and chugged the remainder of my beer.

"Yes...harder...harder!" someone moaned from the back stall. I shook my head and stifled a laugh.

"Oh you like that? Haha!" the other man said.

Was that...

"Oh Adam!" The voice moaned again.

I dropped to my knees and silently cried.

Katherine's POV:

I hadn't heard from Emily and it was nearly midnight. I sent her a text asking where she was, but got no reply. I turned on doctor who until I fell asleep.

*next morning*

Emily was passed out on my sisters bed in the basement, in pajamas, but also had a bucket next to the bed. Was she sick? I didn't wake her. I sat on my bed, which was just across from my sisters, and waited.

I picked up her phone and saw texts from someone named Darren, and went through them. I knew she wouldn't mind because she never has before. I scrolled through and saw things I had never imagined seeing in Emily's phone. She opened her eyes groggily, then focused. "Why do you have my phone?"

I set it down next to her sheepishly, "Sorry I didn't think you'd mind."

She groaned, then rolled over to vomit into the bucket next to the bed.

Tommy's POV:

I woke up in the motel I drove to after I found Adam. My hangover wasn't severe, but my whole body ached from what I had heard in the bathroom.

I walked to the mirror in my room and my hair had been ruffled up and makeup was smeared all over my face. There were streams of tears coming down my cheeks as I broke down again. I didn't know what to do. I looked for my shaving razor, and part of me was reminded of my high school years, cutting when I was depressed. I didn't want to go back, but I had no escape. One minute later, blood covered my arms and the floor around me. I just fell to the floor and sobbed.

Someone pounded on the door and I scrambled to pull on a jacket and clean up. Once I was decent, I opened the door and saw Adam.

"Why the hell are you here?!" I shouted at him. He was taken aback my my harsh words, but I didn't care.

"What do you mean? I came to see if you were okay!" he retorted.

I scoffed, "Yeah, right. Like you care about me."

Adam became infuriated and stormed through the door, running his hands through his dark hair. "I do care! What is going on to make you so angry?"

"Who was with you in that fucking bathroom last night? Why would you do this to me?" I cried and fell to the floor again.

Adam stopped. He didn't move, he didn't breathe, he didn't say anything. I looked up at him, and he shook his head slowly, like he didn't believe this was happening.

"Well?!" I shouted. "I deserve an explanation!"

"I know you do...." He sat down on the bed. "That guy in there...he should have been you," he whispered.

"What?" I said staring up at him.

"I left you last night because...well being around you made me feel strange, and I needed a release, but I didn't want to rush things with us," Adam explained on the verge of crying.

I sat up on the bed next to him, "You wouldn't have rushed things. I cannot tell you how much I wanted you last night."

Adam stared at me, gaping, and I grabbed his hands.

Adam's POV:

Tommy grabbed my hands and I wanted so badly to lean over and kiss him right then, but I don't want to hurt Tommy again. Instead, I let Tommy take the lead. He slowly leaned in towards me, looking at my eyes, then my mouth, and then we were kissing, slowly, and passionately. Tommy's hands ran through my hair and he turned me onto my back, climbing on top of me. His lips moved down to my neck and he started pulling away, but I wouldn't have it.

Tommy pulled my shirt off in a swift motion and ran his hands down my torso. I tried to take off his jacket, but he stopped me, and I knew something was up. Tommy however didn't stop trying to strip me.

"Tommy, stop. What's going on," I asked a bit nervously.

He smiled and shook his head, "What do you mean?"

"Take off your jacket," I ordered.

Tommy climbed off me and wouldn't do it. I ripped it off him and saw his bloodstained arm.

Oh. My. God.