[ 17 ] the box

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STORY WRITTEN IN 2016 under revision

WARNING: THIS PORTION CONTAINS TOPICS SURROUNDING AROUND SUICIDE, CUTTING, DEPRESSION, AND ABUSE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

THIS PORTION IS NOT MEANT TO ROMANTICIZE SUICIDE, CUTTING, DEPRESSION OR ABUSE. IF YOU ARE SOMEONE THAT GETS EASILY OFFENDED OR TRIGGERED, DO NOT READ BEYOND THIS POINT.


Skylar



My phone rings in my hand as I walk to the front of the casual restaurant. Once I step inside, my eyes land on Ryan and he's already looking my way.

His blond hair is tucked underneath a red cap and hangs low on his shoulders while his piercing blue eyes scans me. The deep dimple on his cheeks is shown as he smiles my way. Only then do I realize that he has his phone to his ear and my phone is still ringing. I look down at it and his four letter name takes up my screen.

"I thought you flaked-out on me," He tells me as he walks up to me, ending the call in the process.

I know I am late. After getting his text, I stood there for a moment, outside of the building I left from. For some reason, my mother's words kept flickering around in my head. My paranoia was hefty. So I took it upon myself to go back to my dorm room and change. Instead of wearing the fitted shirt I had on, I switched into a sweater.

But as I passed my mirror, heading for the door to leave, my phone rings and it was a call from him; Tristen. I stared at it for a while, deciding whether or not I should answer. I take a glance in the mirror and realized I had my hair down again. I started wearing it down for one reason: because he liked it.

Sighing deeply, I grabbed a rubber-band and pulled it into its normal ponytail and sent his call to voicemail. All he wants is sex.

"Skylar?" My eyes focus back on Ryan and he looks a little concern. "Are you okay?"

I nod, tossing my phone in my bag. He's better than Tristen. The only thing Tristen wants from you is sex. Ryan seems like a good guy. "Yeah, I'm fine." I reply, sending him a smile, but it didn't reach my eyes. Probably sensing how off I was, Ryan offers a smile in return and pulls me close to him, slipping his fingers in mine.

I look down at our entwined fingers as a server comes to us and sits us at a table, setting menus on the table. Even when sitting, he pulls out my chair and never lets my hand go.

"You look kind of off," He comments, his blue eyes absorbing me as he shrugs off his red cap and sets it in his lap. He runs his free hand through his golden locks and then leans in. "What's wrong?"

I stare at him for a while, taking in his appearance. His face is clean, no scars, no acne in sight. It looked as smooth as a baby's bottom. He didn't seem like the type of guy to start fights or, I don't know, punch a wall. I cringe, remembering the events that occurred just late night in the bathroom of Duncan's party.

"Skylar?" He questions, seeking the focus of my eyes. His hand lightly gives mine a squeeze and I am content with the warm comfort his hand graces mine with.

"Huh?" I shake my head. "Sorry. I'm just really distracted and overwhelmed right now." I say, my voice sounding a bit angrier that I expected.

He gives me a soft smile and pushes the menus aside. "You want to talk about it?"

I did. I really did. I want to tell him about my mother and how I was fighting for her acceptance. I want to tell him how she made me feel uncomfortable in my own skin. I want him to know that I am an idiot and I almost got played by a guy who only wanted me for sex.

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