Blues

42. Lovesick Blues

Sooo, I just posted the prologue of Empire of Dirt, my other book, here on Wattpad! Make sure to check it out, and don't forget to vote and comment your feedback! Thanks!!

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“It's really unsettling.” Alexa vents as we tread out of the classroom, shaking her head, and it is still unsettling, seeing that blond hair as it flutters around her face, but it still looks seemly, like garlands of gold.

“What is?” I question, repositioning my satchel over the other shoulder. The thing weighs a ton of pounds, and I'm afraid I'll have bumpy shoulders soon.

“Dylan not giving us a wink of attention like that!” She clarifies, looking exasperated.

“You know he no longer wants me. That's why.” I half smile at her, trying to obscure the amount of distress I feel.

I've been already lambasting myself for the pathetic state I've been in. It's been another week, but this time I'm not the one who's been avoiding him. And the cosmic difference here is that he's not avoiding me.

He has cut me off. Completely.

Truth be told, I thought he was bluffing. I thought he was going to eventually come and see me, the way he always does. But he didn't, and I have a direful feeling he won't. Another truth is that I have a colossal ego that's been holding me back. I fear more humiliation. I fear more another turndown. I fear I might be the only fallen addict, that he's been only considering me an agreeable fling.

I'd crush my fucking heart..

He said that, and ever since that night, those words have been haunting me like a phantom that I want so much to believe, but still scared it might only be an illusion; a misinterpretation.

I did it again; I fell, and I fell hard for the incertitude. I thought I was being cautious, before my idiocy clobbered me in the head so mercilessly, that I can't get sober and stand again.

“But I'm his sister goddammit! He's hanging out with that son of a bitch Trent like you're the only faulty person here!” She spouts, her chest heaving.

“Calm down. I'm not even as angry as you.” I sigh. I am angry, but not at Trent, and not at Dylan for abandoning me like that. I'm angry at myself, for so many reasons.

“Keep hiding behind that mask, Candice. You'll have to come around, eventually, or you'll live your entire life hiding there, mourning the loss of a lot of chances you had in your grasp.” She shakes her head at me, looking at me with a mixture of castigation and sympathy.

I hold my hands up to her. “They're empty, Alexa.”

She starts to say something, before her eyes dart to someone behind me. “Huh! Finally my brother is acknowledging me! Halle-fucking-lujah!”

“You curse now?” His voice comes out lukewarm, yet playful. My heart starts to race, and for some unknown reason, his voice still sends a chill down my spine. I don't know why. Maybe it's because I've been yearning to hear it for long now, or maybe because that playfulness is not directed at me. Maybe it's because I'm so fucking lovesick and needy, that his voice alone feels like a tremendous thing.

He comes around, so he's standing between us, and I can't help but look up, my eyes very ravenous to look at him, to scrutinize every single inch of him leisurely until I get bored. What makes me lose my breath, is that I find him staring right back at me, but I don't get to feel mirthful. The look he's giving me is not the one I want. It's devoid of any emotions or warmth.