Eight

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Valerie P.O.V.

I powered through revising my notes all Saturday afternoon in the campus library after my shift at Bean Crushers. It was taxing work and I would probably have to spend all of tomorrow as well, cramming for my next exam.

Unlocking the front door to the apartment, I chucked my keys into a bowl before popping my bag down by the door and slipped off my shoes.

"Hey Ell," I greeted over to her figure lounging on the sofa. "Woah what's that?" I exclaimed at the sight of a large floral arrangement of pink roses, lilies, and white gerberas sitting on top of the coffee table.

"Hey! Kean had them delivered to me," she gushed.

"They're beautiful!"

"I know right! There's something for you to," she said, grabbing a small box from behind the flowers and handed it over to me as I plopped down on the sofa next to her. Opening the box and pulling out the card curiously, I unsealed it to find a note that read:

To my favorite coffee girl,
Your finals survival kit.
Good luck.
- C.B. x

Inside the tissue paper lay bars of chocolate, a couple of bags of sour patch kids, bottles of vitamin water, a scented candle for relaxation and a personalised notebook and pens with my initials etched on it. I can't believe it.

"He sent you a care package?" Ell asked peering over my shoulder. "That is sooo thoughtful! Oh my god Val, he's crushing hard."

I bit my lip with a smile as I traced my fingers over the rose gold lettering. "Yeah," I breathed, a rush of emotions flooding through me. "Did these arrive at the same time?"

She nodded. "It's pretty cute how they tagged team a delivery for us."

"Mmm, so how have you and Kean been?" I asked her, realising I had totally been in my own world and hadn't caught up with her in a while.

"Amazing! He has been taking me out a lot; once to hangout after we had finished shooting, out to the pier and to eat a couple of times. He also helps me rehearse my lines and gives me pointers. He's like the sweetest person I've ever met and he makes me smile like crazy all the bloody time. I might need reconstructive surgery for my facial muscles."

Laughing at her ridiculousness, I responded; "I'm so happy for you Ell, you deserve someone truly amazing."

"Thanks babe, you'll have to help me get him something though, his birthday is coming up at the end of this month!" she grinned, bouncing excitedly.

"Woah alright, sounds pretty serious, do you think it is?"

"It definitely feels like we're dating, but we haven't really talked about it exclusively..."

"Have you guys sealed the deal yet?" I asked her cheekily, remembering the one night last week she hadn't slept at home.

"Omg no! I've resisted cause it's only been like six weeks since I've actually started talking to him and I genuinely want this one to last... We did come close the other day though, I don't think I can put up a fight any longer. I mean look at him!" she sighed looking a little lost. "What about you and Carter hey? Lover boy here is already sending you gifts, after like what? Three weeks after meeting him?"

"No way!!!! I'm in the same boat as you, maybe even less so. Ugh what am I saying, we've never even been on a date!" I shook my head at her.

There wasn't a chance we were headed in that direction soon. I wasn't a virgin anymore so it wouldn't be a massive deal... but I promised myself I wouldn't do casual sex, unless that person was truly special and it felt right. I gave it up a few years ago when I thought I was in love. Now it's a blessing and a curse because I know now I had given it to him for all the wrong reasons, but at the same time I was lifted of the burden and awkwardness of having to go through it for the first time in the future. My feelings were constantly conflicted over this topic.

When I was around 19, I felt the pressure after being in a relationship for almost a year, thinking that was the appropriate milestone to start 'doing' it. We were somewhat on the happier side before it all went downhill. He began partying heavily, drinking excessively with his crew, doing explicit drugs every weekend. We argued constantly over the issue and the lies he told me about it, the excuses he made to dodge making plans to see me, choosing to get high instead.

It was like I was addicted to the vicious cycle of him hurting me, then smoothing it over with sweet, meaningless words and promises that he never kept. But how could I stop? I loved him. So, in a last-ditch attempt at trying to keep him and the relationship alive, I gave it up and pushed aside the anxious gut feeling after we had done it.

In addition, my relationship with my old New York circle was crumbling to pieces. I felt left out at times by my so-called "friends." It was like the only time they stopped bitching behind my back was when they wanted something from me; funded outings, exclusive invites, expensive gifts, access to my home to throw parties... and I let them.

It sort of fed my ego, in a sort of sick twisted way, making me feel needed, even if it was only for materialistic things. I had no problem doing it all, but the favours were never returned, and that made all the difference. Because deep down, all I wanted was a shoulder to cry on, someone to be there when I needed.

I made all the effort in the relationship I realised, simply discarded whenever I was no longer required. It was too little too late to see that they were molding me into this empty spiteful girl, as they viciously made fun of others, and I laughed and added to their remarks in a pursuit to fit in. The negative energy was completely swallowing me up.  

My anxiety levels started building up from the torment of my relationship with my boyfriend. It wasn't always like that, though. We did have fun sometimes and enjoyed each other's company. We tried to make it work and sort through our differences, attempting to change and listen to each other's feelings. If I could get somewhere with him, despite all the things we went through, maybe I could also try to mend the relationships between the girls. I decided to stand up for myself, and stop with the "pushover" like behaviour.

I had approached them to try and talk about how I felt with the double standards and the way they treated me. Was it so wrong to just want them to care about me and not the things they could use me for? Like a slap to the face, they didn't give a crap. It's safe to say I swiftly ended my ties after that blow-up. From then on, I purely relied on the support of family and Ellana's blossoming friendship with me, feeling incredibly grateful we kept in contact as she moved to L.A.

I felt lighter, happier even, without the strain of the toxic friendships gone. My relationship with my boyfriend improved for a while before it started descending into utter madness again. The bad outweighed the good. I became irrational and was acting out as equally terribly in the relationship. I was crazed. He broke me. It was unhealthy. I was unstable. I didn't know who I was anymore. I hurt myself and I hurt others in the process. Hurt people, hurt people.

Feeling completely lost, I left.

This was the major reason I generally kept to myself. I didn't feel the same distress that once plagued me after the series of drama that occurred across the good span of a year, but it did make me a very reserved and wary person when it came to building close relationships with people.

Carter had made me feel so much in a short span of time. I could fall for him. Really, really fall. I was scared I would completely lose it again with him and spiral out of control. Love made you foolish. I knew that first hand. I sent him one last thankyou text for the gift (it was only polite to do so), and repeated a mantra in my head, telling myself to keep my distance from now on as I desperately tried to keep up the façade of lies I was telling myself, that this man was most definitely NOT getting under my skin.

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