The Boy With The X Tattoo

Eighteen

"What?!" I exclaimed, staring into Colby's eyes, searching for a sign that it's a joke.

"He's moving today. The new roommate moves in tomorrow." Colby says, pulling himself out of the pool. I pull myself on the edge, wiping the water from my eyes.

"Who's this 'roommate.' " I ask.

THE NEXT DAY

"Jake, this is Rose. Rose, this is Jake." Sam says, acting like I've never met Jake Webber before.

Me and Jake go... way back. If you can call it that. We dated for 3 years. Sophomore year to senior year.

"Yeah, I know." I tell Sam, elbowing him in the ribs. He grunts before swatting my arm.

"Didn't know that you moved in with your brother, dork." Jake says, his hair falling in his eyes. He hasn't called me 'dork' since we broke up. I flinch, the simple word sending a shiver down my spine.

"Jake! My brotha!" A voice exclaims behind me, followed by a pair of arms wrapping themselves around my waist.

"Colby!" Jake smiles but the smile is gone when he notices Colby's arms.

"You guys... dating?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at me. I look away, not meeting his eyes again.

"Yep. 4 months and some days." Colby says, resting his chin on my shoulder. I glance at Jake, a broken look on his face, only noticeable for a second.

"Congrats." Jake says, with no emotion. I gently pull Colby's arms from my waist and brush a loose piece of hair from my face. He frowns but I look at him like later. Not here. He nods.

"See you boys later." I say, heading toward the front door, grabbing my helmet and keys before going outside. I sit on the motorcycle, the engine starting with a loud noise. I back up, pull out the driveway, and head to wherever my mind takes me.

Thoughts are rushing through my head.
Jake, my EX BOYFRIEND, is moving in the same house as me.
The reason me and Jake broke up was mainly because I wanted to go to college, maybe be successful in whatever I studied. Jake, he wanted to stay in Kansas. Live life out.

All these thoughts are running through my head, faster than my mind can handle. I glance at the speedometer, my heart skipping a beat when I read the number. 90 mph. I hear a horn, making me look up, only to see the headlights of a car coming towards me. I turn the bike, but not quick enough. Then everything goes black.