On The Rocks

“Because there’s no reason for you to stay here anymore,” she says simply.

“You’re here,” I tell her to point out the obvious. “Why would I go when you’re here?”

“Because we’re no more.”

“Maybe I’ll work to change your mind. Maybe I’ll fucking drag Sasha’s ass back here, and we’ll confront this lie head on.”

A brief flash of panic flitters across her face, but then I think I must have imagined it because steely resolve sets in stone once again. “You can do that if you want, but I won’t be here.”

“Why not?” I ask with dread.

“Because I accepted that job in Raleigh. I start next week.”

Utter hopelessness washes through me, and suddenly I feel tired to my very bones. My voice is low, quiet… ironically calm. “This is really happening, isn’t it? We’re really over?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

I stare at her, letting my eyes roam her face. The face I’ve seen a million times… in laughter, in sorrow, in pleasure. Now… it’s looking at me impassively, her eyes cold and distant. I stare at her hard, letting that look burn into me, willing it to replace all those other images. She tries to hold my gaze but eventually it’s too much for her, and her eyes slide down to the carpet.

I wait for her to look back up at me. For her to tell me that this whole fucked-up scenario is some terrible joke gone awry.

But she doesn’t.

“Get out,” I tell her softly, watching her eyes fly back up to me.

She just stands there, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. I’m not sure what her hesitation is, because she’s flayed me down to my soul. The longer she stares at me, the hotter the acid burns in my veins.

“Get. The Fuck. Out,” I repeat, and the menace in my voice shocks her back to reality. She spins away and runs to the door, throwing it open and hurling herself outside. When I hear the door slam shut, I close my eyes once again and try to figure out what all I need to do to get ready to leave for Fiji.





My phone rings, bringing me out of my stupor. I roll over in my bed and pick it up, seeing the word “Casey” on the screen. I want to ignore it, but I can’t. Casey’s worried sick about me, and it pains me to be the cause of that.

“Hey Casey,” I say softly as I connect the call.

“You’re still lying in bed, aren’t you?” she demands.

“Yes,” I tell her, because I’m in exactly the same spot I was yesterday when she called me. Today’s the day Hunter’s flight left for Fiji and the knowledge has me so mired in despair and darkness, I can only manage to pull myself up to go to the bathroom before tumbling back down into the comfort of my bed.

After I broke up with Hunter two days ago, I immediately went home, put on my pajamas, and crawled into bed. I told Savannah that I didn’t want to be disturbed, and I locked my bedroom door.

Within less than an hour, Casey showed up and was banging to gain entrance. I ignored her, even as I could hear her sit down on the floor outside my bedroom and talk to me. She told me that Hunter had called her, told her that he was leaving, and that we had broken up. She was freaked… I get that. But I ignored her and, after about half an hour, she left. I rolled over and went to sleep, not waking up until the next morning.

Then the calls started. Repetitively. Casey was the worst, calling me at least every fifteen minutes. My mom called. Hunter’s mom called. Alyssa called. Even Brody called once, but only that one time. I was shocked as hell when Sasha even called, but I ignored that too. Savannah knocked on my door a few times, offering to bring me food, but I politely declined.