You Are My Heartbreaker

Chapter 32

"Move aside," I sighed, I opened the mirror where inside the cabinet had the first aid kit. I picked up the tweezers and dipped the cotton ball into the alcohol, I tilted his jaw up to start cleaning the small cut, "Don't move."

"Thanks," he winces at the alcohol that stung his wounds. I brought his face back down to face me so I could clean the other one on his forehead and cheek. 

"Don't count on it," I said, as I focused on cleaning the wounds.

"I think you could pass for a nurse--a pretty hot nurse," he chuckles, until I glared at him making him look away, "T-thank you."

"You saved me, so let's just say I'm returning the favor," I said.

"You aren't going to ask me why I picked a fight?" he asked after a distance of time, "I mean, aren't you curious?"

  I started to spread the polysporin on the wounds I've cleaned before answering him, "It's not my business."

"But you're curious," he grins, "Right?"

My eyes met with his as I paused my work, "It doesn't matter if I'm curious because I probably wouldn't ever know the truth."

He was a bit taken back, but smiles. I went back to applying the polysporin, he was just staring at me. It began giving me the chills after a while. Then he said, "He was my drug dealer. I knew him since high school, we never spoke until senior high."

I put the gauze pad over the one on his forehead and a simple bandaid on the smaller cuts, "Done." I say as I ignored what he said and sterilized the tweezer before I packed it away with the other utensils.

"You really don't want to know? You're not curious?" He was serious now, not joking anymore. He grabbed onto my wrist to stop me from cleaning. "When have you been so heartless?"

That moment everything clicked. His dark past. This was it.

When I didn't say anything he hopped off the sink counter and pushed me aside as he started walking downstairs. I guess this was an issue he was sensitive to. I didn't care about the mess as I chased after him to the living room.

"Nick wait." He stopped dead on his tracks when I called him, "Tell me what happened."

Sure Joe has told us what Nick's dark past was, but he never told us why Nick started with drugs. He pretty much skimmed through to the part where and how Nick met Olivia. Which I was VERY much not interested about.

We sat on the couch as he began telling me his story.

"So how did you mean Anson--or why did you reconnect during senior high?" I asked.

"I met him at a party during the last summer before college. He was a starter at selling drugs. A few days after our break up I was so angry with everything, especially when I saw you at Chelsea's party with that Taylor dude. I left and went to the bar with the guys.  At first I was taking it on with the alcohol, one after the other. But after a while I saw Anson there, I felt so ugly inside--so angry and hurt, I wanted the feeling to go away. It was awful, I asked Anson for some drugs. I didn't care what it was, as long as I could fade away from this world for a minute. So I didn't know it was meth until the day after. I was so hooked onto it. It gave me this free spirited feeling, I went back to Anson, he introduced me to somebody in New York for it's supply. I couldn't stop, it was literally an addiction. People in my lecture began noticing my substantial disappearance from class. I would go in and out to take a quick sniff sometimes. After a while when the dean practically threatened that I will be kicked out of the college--she assured I was seeing the therapist. It took a while to get through it... I mean I took a break from college for one semester just for the treatment. The first month I suffered the most because it was complete detachment from the drug. Plus, I suffered serious bipolar break downs..."

I couldn't believe what he went through while I stayed angry with him for a good three years. I didn't feel it when Joe told me--I mean yes I was shocked. But now I actually feel awful inside. I was a terrible person for three years. Instead of trying to contact him myself, I ignored his texts the summer we were moving.

"After Joe came to see me and meeting Olivia, things got better I could say. I mean, the support of family and friends were so different. It really gave me courage."

"I-I'm sorry," I was cringing to even touch him now.

"You don't have to be sorry, it's not your fault," he winces, trying to avoid the cut on his lip.

"But it is!" I argued, meeting him eye to eye, "If I wasn't being such a bitch and just listened to Rachel and called you then none of this would've happened to you. And we won't be where we are today!"

I felt a tear trickle down my face, I quickly swept it off the surface before he sees it. 

"Hey... don't cry," he leaps off the bathroom counter coming forward to me, "We can't change history, don't blame yourself for it. I chose to take the drug, you weren't pushing me to do it."

"But if we didn't argue, if I picked up your call, if I called you back--"

"How can there be that many ifs in this world? If  Shakespeare didn't exist do you think children wouldn't be educated today?" he chuckles, "Selena, if that many ifs existed, chances of me meeting you in my life is as small as never."

I laughed at his remark, "That will be your loss."

He was just staring at me. And I was staring at him. Suddenly everything got quiet, all we could hear now was the waves crashing against shore and the heart beat that raced with adrenaline, going lub dub, lub dub....

We were both--well I was at least, admiring how we grew. Not like we looked so different from high school but he was like a man now, a man man. It was different. He still has his charms. Something is different though. He still has the olive soft locks, sharp chin and brown orbs. What's different?

Possibly the person in his eyes was at a new perspective now.

He waves my thoughts aside when I felt him brush my hair behind my ear.

"You're different Sel, you don't need me to protect you anymore," he said, to me it sounds like admiration.  I have no idea what's really going through his mind. But he continued to speak, "You're much more independent."

I was afraid I'd fall if I look him in the eye, instead I stared at his bruised lips brushing the corner of his lips where it stained some blood from his cheek, "Your lip is bruised."

His hand that was resting on the crook of my neck suddenly reached the back of my head. Next thing I knew my head was pressed forward and my lips were locked with his. 

What the f--k.