"breathe a little bit, beautiful, you're all out of breath."
Disconnected from the present, Twitch is haunted by his parents memories, the guilt coursing through his veins as he unconsciously holds the key to the freak accident that killed his pare...
Erica hated not feeling. Most days, she didn't feel anything. She hurt people's feelings, it was all unconsciously done. Erica adored Twitch and she knew he'd never like her like that, not when the wound was still fresh, even after all this time. But, she didn't feel anything. Not jealous, not some weird butterflies in her tummy but she knew she loved him. She was sure of it. A gut feeling.
"You need to be more responsible, Erica." Laura Thompson said, a clipboard in her hand and a disapproving look on her face.
Therapist, my ass. Erica thought, yawning.
She didn't need some dumb shrink telling her what she already knew. But, she went through it, purely so her parents would leave her alone, thinking that the scandal would die down if Erica couldn't see Andrew's sweaty- No.
She pushed those memories far away into the deepest pits of her mind. Andrew Givonni could rot in hell, for all she could care.
"Are you sleeping well?" Laura asked.
"Yes." A lie. A scribble.
"Any strange dreams of...Andrew?"
"No." Another lie. Another scribble.
"Take this cookie, Erica." Laura handed her a perfectly innocent looking Chips Ahoy! cookie but Erica was 98% sure Laura had crushed a sleeping tablet in. "Eat it." Laura pressed on.
She took a nibble, Laura seemed satisfied. "I think we're done for today. Good progress, Erica. You're doing fine." Laura said, bracingly and Erica wanted to know what Laura was actually thinking, what they both knew: she wasn't anywhere close to fine. She was on the path to self-destruction.
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The thing that Erica liked best about the sleeping tablet is that it allowed her to not dream. Her nightmares were vague but always contained Andrew. It's like he slipped from the clutches of her repressed memories and roamed through her subconscious, gloating and gleaming.
She hated that he still had some kind of control over her.
She was awoken from a dreamless sleep by the harsh sound of her cellphone. She picked up, a little angrily. "Whichever son of a bitch is calling me at this ungodly hour can screw-"
"Erica, it's Twitch." Twitch sounded drunk. Erica rolled her eyes. Great, guard duty again but she didn't mind. She felt irritated that she didn't mind.
"Twitch, you're such a bitch." She said as she got up to throw a jacket on. "Where are you?"
"Clever. Don't worry about that. Talk to me, I just want to hear your voice." Twitch said, slurring his words. Erica's breath caught, this was new.
Oh, god. She suddenly knew what it was. Pity party. "Sonny boy, I'm over it." A lie, she continued on. "It happened and it's over, quit tip-toeing around me."
"I'm near your house. I'm crashing at your place."
"Why do you think I don't take away your keys, Marcus?" She didn't know why she was pushing his buttons but Marcus suited him and she had been aching to call him that.
There was no answer on his line. "Marcus?" She said, listening intently but maybe he got mad. There was a click at her front entrance and Twitch entered, looking haggled.
As soon as he spotted her, he moved forward and enveloped her in a big hug. "I'll believe your bullshit for a minute, Erica but you need to have someone. Not Lawrence, not any of your other boy toys, not even me." He chuckled lightly, a deep sound, Erica wanted to kiss him. "You need to talk. Let it all out. Something tells me that you've been bottling it for too long."
Erica just nestled further into his warm chest, so solid and real unlike so many things. She liked his comfort, she liked him.
"You know what happens to people when they hold it all in? They burst."
