I get to the top of the steps.
There are a dozen wooden doors lining the hallway to the left.
Great.
Approaching the first door, I knock, and when I don’t hear anything, I try to open it. It’s locked.
Okay, next.
I rap my fist against the second door and listen. I can’t hear anything, except the thumping bass from downstairs. I turn the handle, and the door opens wide.
It’s not a bathroom, and it’s not empty.
I gasp, bringing my hands to my mouth. Leo is sitting on a sofa against the far wall of the room. A girl is kneeling on the floor before him, her blonde head bobbing up and down against his crotch. Leo looks to me and squints his eyes, as if he’s bringing me into focus. A lazy smile spreads across his face, and I shake my head, stunned. Quickly, I take a step back and close the door.
Seconds pass, and I’m frozen to this spot, my hand clinging to the metal doorknob. I try to make sense of what I just witnessed, and as it becomes clearer, my panic increases.
Finally, I pull my hand from the doorknob and hold it to my chest as if it burned me.
I have to get out of here.
My bottom lip begins to tremble, and I know that the tears aren’t far behind. Retreating toward the steps, I race down them as fast as I can without falling on my face. I push past the drunk dancers in the living room of the house and dart toward the front door.
Once outside, I stumble on my shoe before yanking them off. Sandals in hand, I run back toward the dorm. The quicker I put space between Leo and me, the better.
I hate him. The thought comes to me as my tears finally break free.
Hot streams of betrayal fall down my cheeks as I sprint up the steps to the second floor and down the hall to my room.
As the solid door closes behind me, I sink to the floor and allow my sobs to come. It’s stupid. I’m stupid. Of course he’s the type of guy to get random blow jobs at parties. Of course he’s the guy who sucks on a girl’s breasts and moves on as if it meant nothing because to him it didn’t mean anything. Of course he appeared charming at Coney Island, only to morph back into a womanizing player later. None of this surprises me in the slightest, and yet my heart aches.
I don’t understand why I feel so broken. I’ve always been so strong. I’ve had an impenetrable wall around my heart my entire life. The only person who’s been allowed in is Amos. It’s easy to avoid heartache when the world is locked out.
Leo kissed me twice, and I opened the steel gates wide, optimistic that the moments we’d shared meant something. To me, it did.
I’m a hopeless romantic and a fool. What did I think this was? A romance novel? Bad boy meets innocent girl and falls in love? Soul mates, butterflies, and a happily ever after?
Yeah, I hate Leo, but in this moment, I think I hate myself more because he’s never pretended to be a good person. I’m the idiot who hoped he was.
ELEVEN
Alma
After my tears cease, I make my way to the bathroom and step into the scalding shower. I allow the hot water to wash away the makeup, the curls and hair products, and mainly the shame. I’ve never been one of those girls who wanted to save all of my firsts until marriage, but I suppose I always thought that those moments, when they happened, would mean something.
Clean and dressed, I respond to Quinn’s frantic texts and let her know that I’m home safely and tell her to have a good time. Next, I call Amos. He picks up on the second ring.
“Hey, Mutt. How are you?” he greets me cheerfully.
“I’m okay. I’m good,” I add the last thought quickly so as not to worry Amos, but he knows me too well.
“What happened?” he asks, his voice concerned.
“Nothing. Something,” I stumble on my words. “I’m fine. It’s nothing. I don’t know.”
Do I want to tell Amos about everything that’s happened over the past week? True, I usually tell him everything, but we’ve never really chatted about this type of stuff. Then again, neither of us has had this type of stuff to chat about.
“I’m just having a bad night, and I wanted to hear your voice,” I tell him.
“I’m coming