Lavender

Chapter Thirty-Two

I spent the rest of the weekend holed up in my room. After I entered my dorm room Saturday night after having felt like I made the biggest mistake, I broke down into tears and couldn't stop all through the night and all of the next day. Cammie and Daphne did their best to comfort me with food and advice and badly-made movies marathon, but nothing they did made me feel any less of a despicable human being. I keep hurting Wyatt, over and over, in a villainous loop I can't seem to have any control over. I want to tell him the truth about everything, from the first kiss to last night. I am singlehandedly screwing up the one good thing I had ever since I was a broken kid who had no friends because her parents were usually too busy fighting to remember to pick up their daughter when school ended. The girl who had her face buried in a book, headphones plugged into her ears to drown out the nonexistent angry voices in the classroom. When everyone else teased me and thought I was unlikeable, Wyatt saw the real me, saw my struggle—he really heard it more than anything—and made the effort to be my friend. And we were inseparable. We did everything and anything together. He was my other half, and then we became a couple and we grew weaker. Weak enough for me to imagine a world where I was with another guy. One in particular with intimidating brown eyes but a kind dimpled smile.

Holden Walker.

The guy who started it all. If I'd known he'd flip my world upside down and twist everything around, my sanity included, I wouldn't have kissed him back the way I did. He's caused me so much pain and self-doubt and grief, but also showed me a part of myself I never knew existed. He made me laugh harder, smile bigger than ever before. I felt careless around him, which was fine... until careless turned into selfish. I wasn't thinking about Wyatt anymore. I was solely focused on Holden and how he made me feel as though I'd been seen. He saw past my quiet nature and conservative viewpoints on the world, and he just saw the rawness of myself. And he liked me. I shouldn't have fallen for him, but I have, and it's both ruined everything and proven to be the greatest thing I could experience. College is all about experimenting and finding myself. What if I have because of Holden? What if I am the girl who cheats on her boyfriend? I don't want to be that girl. But maybe Wyatt isn't the right guy, even if I was so sure a few months ago.

I'm torn and brought right back to the overwhelming ache of guilt.

What was I thinking messing around with Holden behind Wyatt's back? I honestly didn't mean to. If he hadn't kissed me first at the party, I would have never made the first move. But what I have had felt an inkling of feelings for him and not admitted it to him? Would I even have any feelings for him if he hadn't kissed me? Not knowing the definite answer kills me, but it's something I will never know.

Staying away from Holden the past week proved to be a near impossible task. He showed up to class every single day, leaving me no room to act like he didn't even exist. No—he was right there, beside me during Literature. He never talked to me or even acknowledged me, but knowing he hates me and doesn't want anything to do with me made me want to stop going to class at all. Deep down I know staying away from Holden is for the greater good. I was only hurting him by kissing him back all those times. And staring back at his 'secretive glances' a beat too long. And discreetly listening to music with him in class when Professor Smith wasn't looking. And revealing secrets to him not even Wyatt knew. I was making myself vulnerable with him, vice versa, when there's no real future for us. We were just shooting ourselves in the foot. And even though it hurts like hell to not even talk to him, maybe this is for the better.

"Lavender?" Jay's says, and my thoughts fade away like smoke.

"Yes?" I sit up straighter in the booth of the diner we're studying in tonight.

"Could you help me with this prompt? I keep reading it over and over, but I don't get it, like, at all." He lifts a marble notebook, and I scoot over to him and peer down at his neatly written notes. While I help explain the wordy and complicated essay prompt, Cammie and Daphne talk loudly about a TV show they watched together the previous night. I have no idea what they're talking about since I was writing, but I didn't miss the shocked gasps and I told you so's.