Chapter Twenty

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'Sometimes fear does not subside and you must do it afraid.'
~ Elisabeth Elliot ~
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Summertime Party
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Milo

I am so tired. I don't wanna be at this damn party, but I know being at my house is only going to lower my mood. Violet's words won't leave my mind, and it's giving me a headache.

Ava isn't manipulating me. I'm better than that. I mean, what would be the point in lying to me? If she liked me, then she would tell me, and I would reject her. Easy peasy, it would be done like that.

We could still be friends. I'm not as cruel as I look. I wouldn't just drop her because she had a small crush on me.

The thought of drinking sends a spike of pain through my stomach, which just makes this even more depressing. I'm sober as can be, at a party I don't have any business being at.

Ava came, stuck to my side like a leach, and then started dancing with some other dude. It doesn't bother me, but the way she keeps glancing over at me makes me think she wants it to.

My eyes search the room, until they come upon the blonde headed girl that I wish was sitting beside me, tucked into my side, where I could keep her safe. I don't know why I want to keep her safe, but I'm starting to see a pattern with my behavior at parties.

I don't want her hands on other guys, and I don't want other guys hands on her. I don't want guys simply looking at her. So many fucking emotions that I can't even cling onto one, just making me look down right mad.

I am mad, but I'm also jealous. Jealous that all our other friends get to have her back while I don't. Which is again, my fault. So, I'm also sad because I can't have the one girl I actually want.

She's standing ridiculously close to another guy, and she's laughing at something he said. Her smile is so beautiful, and her laugh is so pretty that it makes me want to be the one to put it there.

It's fucking contagious, and I have to fight my face from smiling because of it. I feel my jaw tick, and I shift in irritation. She's not even trying to get under my skin, yet she's somehow burrowed and implanted herself there.

I study the guy's movements more, and it's obvious he's not trying to get anything with her. He's simply just talking to her like a friend. Now that I think about it, he looks like the guy Noah walked in with.

What was his name again? Xavier or Xander? I don't remember, and I don't really care enough to think about it any harder. I'm at risk of a migraine at the moment.

"Can I join your pity party? Or is it strictly prohibited to dumb fucks who are in love with someone they are so prone to pushing away." My scowl turns slowly to my left as Noah slings his arm over my shoulder and sits down on the couch.

"Shut up, I'm not fucking in love." I growl, siping the bottle of water I have. Noah does the same, but with a beer bottle instead. "Ok buddy. You keep telling yourself that."

"What do you want, Noah?"

"Why? So you can go back to wallowing in self pity?" I roll my eyes and down some more water. "I'm not wallowing in shit." I give him a forced, sarcastic laugh and then go back to staring at Isabelle.

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