Throw Down Your Heart

Chapter One - Oh God, I'm Homeless

Anyways, when I couldn't take music lessons Drew would just teach me what he learned when he got home from his lessons. I picked up on playing guitar really fast and then in a school elective I learned to play the ukulele and now I just taught myself electric bass this year while I've been at college. People with dyslexia and other learning disabilities, while we may have a hard time doing some of the traditional school stuff we tend to be very good at other things. Some of us are great artists, others are really athletic, and then there are the people like me who have an aptitude for music.

"Luke?" I called again as I walked into the bedroom. I guess he's not home. Maybe he's at the market? The fridge has been looking a little empty...I walked to the dresser and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a tank top to change into when something red sticking out from under the bed caught my eye. I got down on my knees and pulled up the bed skirt to see what it was. When I pulled it out I found that it was a red lace thong with black bows on it.

And it wasn't mine.

All of a sudden I knew exactly whose it was and that there was no reason for it to be in my apartment. At least no good reason.

"Hey, do you like the skirt or the shorts better with this top?" Angie asked, standing there in a white chiffon top and a red thong with black bows and holding a black skirt in one hand and black leather shorts and the other.

"I like the skirt, but that's just me." I said as I continued putting on eyeliner. We were going to a party and she invited me over to get dressed at her dorm with Ella, her roommate, another one of our good friends.

"Thanks, babe. You're the best!"

Angie's never slept over here. There's only one reason I can think of for her underwear to be here. I ran back out to the kitchen and found two wine glasses in the dishwasher, one with a lipstick mark on the rim. You don't put wine glasses in the dishwasher, Luke. We've been over this a million fucking times. I shook my head in disbelief at how many times I'd believed him when he'd said he was going for a run at 10:00 at night or how many times I'd been willing to spend the night at a friend's so he could have a 'night with the guys?'

I felt my eyes harden and my teeth grit as my body flushed with heat and anger. He left the glasses in the fucking dishwasher. Fucking lazy bastard couldn't even hand wash two glasses to cover his ass. I held the glass with the stain on it and I felt my body start to shake with rage. Suddenly, the glass shattered. I looked at my hand and found that I had squeezed it so hard it broke. I'd also cut my hand in several places.

"Fuck!" I screamed, kicking the cabinet. I walked back to the bathroom and washed my hand off and wrapped it in some gauze. I've been with Luke since two weeks into the school year and he goes and does this? He's known Angie since he was a fucking freshman and he really thought now out of all those years was the right time to start screwing her? And on my fucking birthday too?

I yanked a big duffel bag of mine out of the closet and threw as much of my stuff as I could into it. This was the last thing I deserved on today of all days. I zipped the bag up and slung it over my shoulder. There is no way I'm staying here to confront him. He doesn't deserve that. He deserves to find out that I left the same way I found out he cheated. Clearly he didn't think I deserved the decency of an upfront conversation about it. Neither does he. I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote out a note. I even took the time to make sure it was spelled correctly. Somehow I don't think a note that looks like it was written by a toddler would be terribly effective given the circumstances.

'I want the rest of my shit back, asshole.'

I wrote the address to my only friend here that isn't connected to Luke down too for him to send the rest of my stuff to. My friend Emily lives a few towns over. That's where I'm going. I texted her to let her know I was coming and promising that I'd explain when I got there. She'll let me crash with her. I put the thong on the kitchen counter with the note, and with one last look around, I walked out the door.