[Sequel to The Merciless Black List Of Highland High]
Secrets and lies.
The very flesh and bone of the infamous Shameless Foursome guys.
Collin Adamms, the supposed creator of The Shameless Virginity Games, knows what it's like to make mistakes t...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
19 |
rights and wrongs
"There's nothing to talk about, Bishop," is what jumps out of my mouth and it couldn't be possibly further from the truth.
There's shit load of unresolved stuff between us, and we should've talked it out a lot sooner than now.
Bishop knows that. Which is most likely why his somewhat neutral expression morphs into a scowl. "How long are you gonna keep this up, Aspen? You really think that doing nothing but telling yourself lies is going to achieve something in the long term? That it's going to do any good?"
My first response is to snap something about him basically the same thing, about being a goddamn hypocrite, but for once, I can't find the energy to. He's right. He's so fucking right it actually hurts.
And now I'm a total mess, clamping a hand over my mouth while attempting to choke back the sobs that are clawing up my throat as I abruptly sit down on the closed toilet lid.
Fucking fantastic.
This just couldn't get any better.
Bishop seems to be frozen in place but that's okay. I wouldn't know what the hell to do if he suddenly had a breakdown either.
In all three years of our friendship, I've allowed myself to cry in front of him once. And that was a few months back, when Mom overdosed and had to be hospitalized.
He was by my side then, even though I was constantly pushing him away, and he's by my side now, kneeling beside the toilet, close by but not too close, and for a moment it's easy to forget how strained and complicated everything between the two of us had been lately.
"You think I want to be like this?" I don't care how pathetic I must look right now. I don't care that the walls in this house are as paper thin as they come, and Sarah -- and Bishop's parents, if they are home of course -- are most likely right on every single word that leaves my mouth. "Mom is God knows where, Brad or Sarah haven't told me shit about her --" I'm trying to keep it hushed, but it's becoming harder to breathe by each second that passes, " -- I have to live in that fucking house with that psycho, constantly afraid that he'll snap and -- I don't even have anywhere else to go, except Collin's house, which I can't do -- because he's a fucking addict, just like my mom."
My entire body is shaking, way stronger than my voice, and not even Bishop's warm hand wrapping around my trembling hands can stop me from slipping down my own destructive embarrassment spiral.
"He's buying from Brad, of all fucking people, and then there's Rose and Roger and -- and this entire goddamn mess and I just don't know what to do."
A very brief flicker of something I can't quite decipher flashes through his green eyes, but it's gone as soon as it came, and then he's pulling me forward, wrapping me in an embrace as if his solid body was my own personal cocoon.
