bitter | e.d

| thirty-one

it feels like we've been driving for days.

I've been mindlessly staring out the bus window for hours, seeing what seems like the same fields of grass and the same forests on repeat.

the worst part of it being that my body refuses to let me fall asleep. I can't get comfortable, I can't quit overthinking, I can't get ethan out of my damn mind.

my heart beats out of control every time I simply say his name in my head.

I don't like how much I enjoyed what happened between us at the rest stop. I don't like the way I didn't put up much of a fight in stopping what he was doing. as pathetic as it sounds, it was the most exciting thing to happen to me in a long time. unfortunately, it was over before it even started.

but it was wrong. so wrong.

for many reasons. one, andrew would have me dead if he ever knew I let a boy touch me the way ethan did. he doesn't know and he doesn't have to know, but it doesn't change the immense guilt I feel for breaking his rules behind his back.

two, it was very dangerously stupid to do what we did when lana could've seen at any moment. if it weren't for her being held up at the registers, she would've caught us red-handed. I'm basically asking her to send that damned video to the school board at this point.

and most importantly, it made whatever it is I feel towards him—infatuation, desire, lust—that much stronger.

all this taught me is it is far too easy for ethan to get me to be putty in his hands. he almost had me begging him to do literally anything to me.

I was seconds away from kissing him myself if it weren't for jimmy walking in.

I'm disappointed in myself for the thoughts and images I had circulating through my mind the entire time ethan's hands were on me. filthy, filthy thoughts. he makes it so incredibly easy for me to forget who I am when I'm with him.

me being near him is bad—for everyone. I can't think of a single good thing that'd come out of it.

"wilson!" my name is suddenly called, and I look up to find kellan was the one who said it from where he's sitting in the seat diagonal from mine and jack's. "are you doin' alright?"

"huh?" I reply mindlessly, having been out of it for a few minutes now. we—me, jack, kellan, lennox, and a few others I don't know the names of—had been playing 20 questions to pass the time. except, I've been doing a bad job at participating.

kellan eyes me with concern. "you don't look so hot, c'mere." he leans closer to me in the aisle, bringing the back of his cool hand to my forehead, then my cheek. "you don't feel warm."

"I feel fine," I shrug my shoulders in a confused manner.

"you look pale." he says while pulling his hands away from my face curiously. "do you get carsick or something?"

"if she was carsick, don't you think she would've puked by now?" jack joins in our conversation, sounding almost defensive. "you don't get carsick all of a sudden after 6 hours of driving."

"it was just a question, dipshit," kellan says in a partially annoyed tone. "besides, you're the one that's been sitting next to her and hasn't noticed she looks sick."

"I'm not sick. I feel fine, seriously." the only thing I can think of to explain me looking pale is the guilt that's eating me alive.

andrew trusted me to go on this trip and be good. I've practically failed him already.

kellan's eyes stay on me a few moments more. "maybe you should eat something." he turns to his bag to pull out what looks like a muffin. it's at that moment I realize I am feeling lightheaded from not having eaten, my stomach grumbling just slightly. "you like blueberry, right?"