Teach Me To Behave

17. Effortless

It's 2:21 am and I'm still awake. Why do I miss you so much? Why are you keeping me up this late on empty thoughts? Why can't I convince myself that you're no good for me.

It's 2:23 am and I'm replaying the scenes of seeing you today in my head. In the café and at the convenient store later at night. I'm reminiscing in bad memories, but why do they feel so good?

It's 2:26 am and my head is hurting. The past couple weeks without you have felt like months. The past couple hours, I've missed you so much, it feels like missing you is all that I know.

I roll over on my side and close my eyes tightly, but they don't stay shut for long. I'm incapable of sleep at that moment. I assertively throw myself to my back and face the ceiling. Why me? Why him?

The next morning I'd successfully counted about three hours of sleep. That wasn't much to get me through the day, but it was better than nothing at all. I could've slept in as much as I needed, but I literally couldn't. It was Saturday and thankfully that meant I was off work and class, but I'd have to work on my English paper during my spare time. I warmed myself a cup of coffee and red over some fashion magazines that had came been delivered to me. I felt physically and mentally weak, I hoped the fresh coffee would do it a smudge.

Four hours later, Vicky knocked on my door. She had never been to my little motel room before, so she took a few minutes to get used to the odd odor that was implanted in the walls.

"You've been cooped up in here for weeks." She cringes still glancing around the low status room. "I don't even know how you've survived in this dump!"

"It's not that bad. Besides, I've been out a lot." I argued flicking the small, antenna, television off.

"Yeah to work and school. You need to go out! This is precious time you'll never get back." She remarks raising her brows.

She was slightly correct. I had to get out and live my own life. My life that didn't revolve around Justin. I figured that she'd come with a plan already up her sleeve. "What've you got?" I asked as if I was asking for medication for an incurable fever.

Vicky picked up her phone and gave a wicked smirk after reading her text. "Fight night. It's on tonight! And we're going!" She cheered. These matches were usually extremely low key. Sometimes they rotated their location to different basements on campus or even different colleges. The night was announced just hours before it actually went down. That way, there would be less talk about it and less of a chance at getting caught.

I'd grown to love the matches. The actual entertainment though, not the bundle of hungry college students and the smell of blood, beer and sweat mixed together. Though, that entire scene screamed one main title at me. A title named after a particular boy.

"I can't Vic," I replied making my answer sound firm.

"Why the hell not! You've been stuck up here all month! You need to have some fun! You're not bailing on me this time." She crossed her arms firmly.

"Vicky I can't go there. I can't see him, again. It doesn't feel right." I lost focus and my thoughts began to wonder.

Vicky switched her attitude from convincing to concerned. "You saw him yesterday? Did you guys talk?"

I took a deep breath. I'd rolled around in the memories enough last night. Now I had to relive them once again. "He stopped by the café with Cassandra. In all fairness, he didn't know I had taken an extended shift." Vicky waited for me to finish as I paused. "He was acting like a real jerk. All his dumb sexual jokes and taunting."

I left it as simple as possible. Vicky shook her head as if she knew exactly what I was talking about. "He's such an idiot." I rose my eyes at her. "Whenever he gets nervous or frustrated he pulls shit like that. Always hopping right to the sex jokes and personalizing them too." Vicky rolled her eyes and I watched her.