The Boy with Bad Habits

Chapter 70

Suppression. Suppression. Suppression.

That's all I could do to keep myself together. When in all actuality I was in complete and utter shambles still holding on to the shred of hope that was instilled in me from that night with Antonio. Nearly a month ago.

Every bit of fight left in me depleted as the sleepless nights returned. I began to lose a considerable amount of weight whilst isolating myself. Hours on end I would stare up at my ceiling fan watching it spin at a decent pace; hypnotizing me. The beautiful nostalgia I'd get from envisioning Willow in my arms and caressing her baby smooth skin taunted me.

What bothered me most was I had been the one in the wrong. Mistakingly allowing a free loader to stroll into my house and dictate how my life should be ruled with her demands supported by repulsive seduction.

Though, I couldn't displace my anger and blame Rachel entirely. Ironically enough, she had served as a balance in my life in a way I never thought possible. Obviously, she had dropped out of high school and I took it upon myself to tutor her in hopes of aiding her in the endeavor of finding a job, ultimately leaving.

Gramps' farm was not a place for her. She'd come over at random hours of the night without causing a disturbance to Nonna as she slept. It bothered me at first, so naturally I took the couch to avoid any misunderstandings.

Currently, she was seated cross-legged on my bed while I leaned against the wall near my broken television. Her hair was scattered in all different directions. When she had gotten paid her very little amount from Gramps since she didn't display any effort to work, Rachel bought some essentials and a couple of shirts. She seemed to have a permanent scowl etched on her face which made her look mildly unattractive.

"Come on Rachel," I egged, "Read."

In order for her to understand some of the curriculum, I collected a few learning devices from my teachers. They didn't question it since most of it was from the first semester. Coincidentally, we were on the subject of English while diving into A Lesson Before Dying. Something that reminded me of Willow and I's time together at the diner. God, I missed her.

Rachel folded her arms, "Damn this book. How is this suppose to help me? I'm a hustler not a fuckin' librarian." She rolled her eyes, downplaying its purpose.

I clenched my jaw to gather my thinning patience, "You don't need to be a librarian to read. This is basic comprehension."

"Why should I care about some pitiful man acting like a five year old? He's going to die anyway," Rachel then inspected her fingernails. "I should really hit up a nail salon."

Where were the articulate conversations? I could talk to Willow for hours about this stuff. Just to see her captivating eyes brighten pulled me in even closer. No, this... this was far from that.

She began to pull out a green carton of cigarettes and plucked one between her thin lips. Before putting them away, she asked whilst one resided in the corner of her mouth, "You want one?"

My fingers itched to jump at that offer but I made a promise to a very special girl a couple months ago, "No, and you're not allowed to smoke in here."

Laughing with the attitude of irreverence, "Who says?" It's just a cigarette." Then her ice blue eyes danced around my room. "You got a lighter?" She hadn't moved from her spot.

I frowned as if she were joking, my anger was beginning to spike. "You're not gonna come into my apartment and start demanding shit when I specifically told you-" Reaching up to snatch it out of her mouth, -"No smoking."