Possibly.

New Players

If God is real, I'm certain I've pissed her off by what happened with Xavier. I'm absolutely paying for it now, and I can't tell what making me feel worse, the nausea or regret. Yet both are still consuming me. Why did I let him consume me? Why do I still crave him?

I don't know what time it is. Although it's been buzzing for the last five minutes I haven't bothered to pluck my phone out of the closet from when I chucked it after reading that text. I just want to full on die. What is the fucking point?

But then it occurs to me, this is absolutely karma. I should not have gone over there in the first place, and I especially shouldn't have had sex with him. But I just couldn't seem to resist. The test of sin and I absolutely failed.

Internally, I'm at conflict. My lungs struggle to reach capacity, yet I quiver reminiscing the way his lips felt on my skin. Is the fire freezing or is the ice melting? Both have me feeling like my head's in the sand.

I find myself wallowing deeper in attempts to drown out my reality, but then hear a knock on my door.

"Kaelah? I've been calling you for an hour. Are you okay?" Trevor asks through the door.

I don't respond. I'm too tired to. He has to know what happened and how incredibly stupid I look. Why would I want to face him now? Why does he still care when I told him I don't have feelings for him? The guilt is gnawing at me.

The handle rattles, and a sigh of relief hits me when I remember that I locked my door at some point during my meltdown. Past me knew me now would need some kind of protection. She's no match for Trevor though, as a sudden pop of the lock shifts my attention and there he stand in my doorway holding a butterknife.

I roll eyes and huff. Not only was I not in the mood, but I really had nothing to give him for whatever he wanted. We continued to contest each other's stares.

"Well, I can see your chest moving so you're clearly not dead. Which is good. Get up. We're going out." He says, bracing his shoulder against the doorframe.

I groaned and pulled my covers over my eyes. I do not want to go out and see anyone. I do not want to go out and have anyone see me. "No. Go away."

"Get up."

"Get out."

"I'm not going away because you absolutely do not need to be in bed like this."

"Who are you to tell me what I need?" I ask.

"Regardless of the conversation we had this afternoon, I'm still your friend. I care about you, and I can't let you wallow like this." He says, tugging on the end of my blanket.

"If you're really my friend you will let me. I'm fucking sad bruh, just let me be," I retort, tucking the cover behind my head.

"I never said you couldn't be sad. I said you gotta get up because we're going out." I feel the space beside me dip.

"I swear to God if you're in my bed with your outside clothes on, we are going to fight. Get the fuck out," I sigh defeatedly, " please."

I don't have the energy to continue to fight with him about this. Each word I've spoken siphoned energy from my grip on the blanket. Had he decided to pull one more time, I'd be exposed. My fleece armor would be gone.

However, Trevor knowing me so intricately, this he does not do. Instead he tucks me in and I listen to the padding of the carpet fade away. Closing my eyes, I heard the bathroom door open and the light flicker on. Breathe in. Breathe out. Just go back to sleep.

Then the sound of water cascading from the spout makes me furrow my eyebrows. Next the closet door opened then shut a moment later. Finally, silence. Outwardly, I sigh in relief.