Part 1: Jessica
Chapter 1
I know Chris is cheating on me—I just can’t prove it. It’s after midnight, and I’m staring out our bedroom window, but he hasn’t pulled up yet. I sigh and sit back down on the bed.
Chris and I met two years ago at the University of Chicago, and while I was a freshman, he was a dropout student on campus visiting friends. He stopped me one day when I was on my way to English, and his face was smiling. His eyes were shining with determination, and we small-talked about a few things. Before we parted he invited me to dinner. We started dating, and about three months later I had moved into his apartment with him. I think the worst choice I made, however, was dropping out of school a few months after that.
I clench the sheets beneath my hands and fight back a few weak tears.
I admit that at the time dropping out seemed like a good idea. I wanted to start my own photography business, and Chris thought it deserved 100 percent of my time. He talked me into buying expensive cameras and taking shots of scenery until I got enough proofs and people who’d take a chance on me. What he didn’t tell me was how to be a good marketer, and without marketing nobody would know my business existed or cared whether or not I was broke.
I’m staying with Chris, but there’s nothing I can really call my own here. I tried six months looking for a job but couldn’t find one. Chris told me not to worry and that he’d take care of me, and I believed him. I wanted to believe him, but part of me figured he should have to take care of me since he convinced me to drop out of school on false hope in the first place. Maybe it was just the anger talking, because I know I shouldn’t think like that. I know deep down he was trying to help me out, and I had made the final decision. Not him.
My eyes catch a glimmer of light, and I stand up and look out the window. It’s just the headlights from a car passing by, and I sink back on the bed. I reach for my phone but after a moment decide against another wasted call.
I get up and stand in front of the mirror above our dresser. My hair is all over the place, so I finger-comb it back. It reaches the middle of my back, but I never really cared about its length even though everyone else seems to. My eyes are heavy from lack of sleep and starting to get a dark shadow. I pinch my lips together. I was never the makeup-wearing type, but my light skin with dark shadows just doesn’t look right.
Just as I decide to call Chris again, I hear a car door slam. I walk over to the window, and in the middle of the road I see Chris getting out of some blue Accord that sure as hell isn’t his. What the fuck is he doing?
Chris turns back to the car and leans in. I see a woman lean over to him, and she gives him a kiss right on the mouth. My mouth falls open, and my hands start to shake. I watch Chris walk coolly up to the apartment entrance. Our apartment’s on the second floor, and I rush out the bedroom and through the kitchen to meet him at the door.
He must be walking slowly because it takes him longer than necessary to come through the door. I wonder if he saw me through the window and is preparing what he’s going to say.
The door opens and his handsome face pops in. When he sees me he smiles. I don’t smile back. I open my mouth to scream at him, but he hushes me. He closes the door and mutters something about a headache, and I know he’s drunk. I stand in front of him and look up.
“What the hell were you doing? I was calling you nonstop.”
He ignores me and collapses on the couch facefirst. I follow him and shake his shoulders. He ignores me, so I start shaking harder. He lifts his head up. “Leave me alone, bae. We’ll talk in the morning—I swear,” he says before passing out.
