PRECIPICE [h.s.]

Chapter Thirty Two

☼☼☼

All my ghosts are with me

I know you feel them too

Ridin' shotgun next to your free Slurpee

They know all of my habits, but they don't know about you

I hope that's true

☼☼☼

July 9th 1997

Jaime's P.O.V.

I'm never leaving this bed. Do you hear me, universe? Never!

"Jaime, you have to get out of bed."

"Universe?" I flop the covers off my body and sit up. Unfortunately, it's not the universe coming down to strike me into the ground. It's just my best friend.

I look at the radio clock on my bedside table. It's 11:27 but it feels like 6am. I wish I could be one of those people that drinks away all their problems.

"Jess, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be opening?"

"Yeah, I am. But apparently there are bigger problems. Want to tell me why you look like you haven't slept and your face is red like you've been crying all night?"

I press a cool hand to my face. My face feels warm and my eyes are almost swollen shut. Jaime "doesn't cry over boys" Jackson has officially broken her streak.

I tried not to. I never thought Harry would make me cry. He's too sweet. I'm so used to guys only seeing me as an object. Just sex. And that's fine. But not Harry. Harry sees me as a whole person. Or so I thought. I've been having so much fun with him and now when our "relationship" veers into more sexual territory, he's running away. He couldn't even look at me last night.

"He called me Jaime," I whisper. My throat is sore from doing nothing but crying for the past few hours.

Her head tilts to the side like a confused dog. "That's why you're crying? Because he called you by your name?"

"Yes and no. I don't know if I really want to talk about it."

She bounces on the bed and slides closer. "Mhm, not really an option right now. Spill."

I stared at her for a long time. What am I supposed to say?

"Am I ugly?" I blurt out. Okay maybe not that.

"How can you ask me that?" She looks ready to slap me across the face for even thinking so.

"No, I mean, like on the inside. Am I ugly on the inside? I know I'm what most people consider 'a bitch'. But I guess I thought that at least my friends liked me."

Jess kicks off her shoes and crawls into my bed. Before I realize what she is doing she has my head in her lap.

"You're talking in circles. Please just tell me what went wrong and then we can talk about how you feel about it."

So I tell her everything. The perfect date. Coming back to my house. Us almost having sex, and then Harry bolting. Which led to me crying my eyes out.

I hate the pity written all over Jess's sweet puppy face. "Oh JJ, you have to know that it wasn't about you."

I scoff and try to bury my face in her lap. "Of course it is. He probably remembered the waiter at dinner and then thought of all the guys he thinks I've slept with. I'm dirty. I'm used and gross."