Chapter 3

I managed to find my way home in the bewildered state I'd left the distribution center-how, I'm not sure. The surroundings of my apartment complex went unnoticed as I pulled in. I didn't even see the beautiful landscapes that encompassed the quiet complex where I paid so dearly to live. As if my feet weren't already hurting after a full day in heels, they were about dead by the time I made the hike up to the third-floor apartment. When I finally reached my door, I threw it open, tossed my bag down by the door, and promised myself I'd work on the proposal before I crashed tonight. My first priority was ditching the confining clothes that sucked the life from my pores. I dropped them on the floor and made my way to my bedroom, where I fell face-first onto my bed, asleep before my feet left the ground.

The blaring drone of my obnoxious alarm clock startled me back to consciousness. I cursed myself, realizing I'd hit snooze one too many times. Running late for class, I hightailed it to the shower and turned the faucet as hot as it would go. Between the soap and scalding water, I attempted to alleviate the dirty feelings I had from the X-rated dreams that vividly replayed in my mind. I didn't even know his name, but those eyes-I wanted to stare at them for hours-and his lips, so full and supple. Imagining the damage they could do to my body had my thoughts racing a thousand miles a minute and warmed the sex between my legs. I ached for a man who might as well have been fictional.

I hadn't had any real desire for the opposite sex since Will. There were few who knew the extent of the damage he'd done to me and even fewer were aware of the reasons I'd stayed with him. Looking back, I wondered why I'd kept his secrets and hadn't run begging for help. He'd been the captain of the varsity soccer team in our large high school, and wildly popular with the girls. I was the wallflower who'd won the coveted role of key holder to his emotional safe. If anyone else had known the truth beyond the smoke and mirrors, they wouldn't have been envious.

Our freshman year, I'd vied for his attention and finally won it right before the end of the first semester. He was smart and funny but came from a broken home. We'd bonded over honors classes and endless hours of studying done in the library. His mom depended on him more than she should have. Initially, I'd found it endearing; he helped out with his younger brother and the daughter she'd had a year before. But the closer we got, the more I realized there were huge problems behind his popular façade. We'd become incredibly close by the end of our freshman year. There were no secrets between us, although there were some I'd wished he'd kept to himself. Once the lid to Pandora's box had opened, there was no turning back. I had knowledge of things that would have sent people to jail, and I soon became his refuge and in the process, lost myself. That relationship taught me to be two different people, one who was perfectly put together for the public, and the other who did whatever it took to make the guy she loved happy.

School was mundane, which made remembering the past far too easy. Endless hours of uninteresting classes led my mind to wander. I always got stir-crazy as the semester drew to a close, not to mention the exhaustion that set in from doing too much with too little rest in between. If I got through finals and got the deal signed at 3 Tier, then my summer would be set. That one contract took me right up to the fall semester and provided me with enough extra income to cover my rent and expenses. Thankfully my scholarship covered tuition and books. Which meant September wouldn't be as bad as last January had been. I would never survive burning the candle at both ends for another five months.

My carpool cohort and I met up at the cafeteria. In true Jenny form, she hummed on about a killer hookup she'd found on campus, who sold the best bud. As we got in the car, she pulled it out, followed by a rolling paper with no regard for any nearby on-looker. She took off out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell and rolled a joint while she merged onto the interstate. I wondered how she would pull off rolling a fatty while shifting gears, but she never ceased to amaze me.

"Annie, light it up," she said and handed me the joint that looked like a perfectly rolled cigarette. "This shit is strong and smooth; you'll forget who you are before you get back to work."

She knew me-we'd been friends since high school. She was my alternate personality. The opposite of everything I was, she kept me grounded. The yin to my yang. My parents hated my relationship with her-and all of my other friends. They'd never understood why I was attracted to people who so clearly hadn't been my socio-economic equals. They never understood that my definition of equal and theirs weren't the same. Owning a four bedroom, three bath home on the Eastside didn't make someone a good person, nor did a college education. I would never associate social standing with worth, but my parents sure had. They believed there was only one path in life: theirs. High school, college, marriage, house, and then babies. And people with our social stature didn't "slum it" with those beneath us. It amazed me that two well-educated people could be so narrow-minded.

Distracted by my thoughts, I pinched the joint Jenny offered, lit it, and took two drags before I handed it back. "Do you ever want to say fuck all the expectations and do what you want to do?" I asked her.

"Shit, Annie, are your parents giving you hell again?"

"Again? It's a continuous barrage when I bother engaging with them. They don't like my friends. They don't like that I work and don't focus solely on school. They don't like my apartment because respectable girls my age don't live on their own. Blah, blah, blah. I don't know why I bother trying to have any type of relationship with them-it just ends in my own disappointment." My diatribe directly resulted from the weed taking effect. I didn't talk much about this kind of stuff sober. I simply pushed through and did what I needed to do to maintain my independence. The last thing I wanted to do was have to ask them for help.

Laughing, she handed me the joint. "Girl, do what feels natural. You're an adult. You pay your own way. It's not like they've been around much since the trials anyhow." She held her breath as long as she could before she exhaled the smoke trapped in her lungs. "You know what your problem is?"

I glared at her, knowing what was coming. "Enlighten me, grasshopper. What is my problem?"

"You need to get laid."

I laughed hysterically, having heard this from Jenny and Lynn for months. They were both convinced if I would have random sex with someone, anyone, my brain would allow me to move on; like somehow, sex would tone down the racket inside my head. Jenny had been the one who picked up the pieces when Will called it quits after four years. She knew the ins and outs of what I'd lived through to help him cope. A casual fuck buddy wouldn't undo the abuse I'd endured, the abandonment issues, or the guilt I'd felt afterward. The girl the world saw was strong and independent, but the one behind closed doors was meek and scared of her own shadow. I spent every second of my day trying to be the best version of me I could for the public, while internally I was a dismal failure. My career and school were easy, they just required hard work, relationships with the opposite sex were a completely different story.

He went to Clemson, and I'd gone to the University of South Carolina. After monopolizing my life with the burden of his situation, he'd decided he needed to experience college life without reminders of home. I hadn't realized those reminders included me. He had decided my every move since tenth grade, and I had let him. We'd supported each other through everything he'd endured-and in return, everything he'd put me through. I'd never left his side regardless of how bad his pain got or what it had meant for me. Faithfully, I stayed by him-he was part of my identity. Without him, I was plain old Annie Teasman. I'd been Will Murphree's girlfriend for years; we went together like salt and pepper-without him, there was nothing distinctive about me.

Without Will around to make the decisions, what had been recreational pot use at parties turned into daily use of much harder substances to maintain my schedule. My psychiatrist had told me to stay busy to ward off the depression after the breakup, and consequently, the trials-I took that to the extreme and cocaine became my drug of choice, and sadly, my lifeline. I didn't use it to enjoy a high or an adrenaline rush but more the way others did caffeine...just multiplied by a hundred. It wasn't possible to work as much as I did and go to school without a chemical aid. The body simply wouldn't allow it.

"We are not having this conversation again." I snorted, still laughing at her, and noticed she'd pulled into the parking lot where my car sat. I hopped out, but before I closed the door, I leaned in. "Want to come out with Lynn and me tonight? Cravin' Melon's playing at Magnolia's."

Jenny slowly closed her eyes and smiled, drifting off to a fantasy dreamland only she had access to. She had some crazy thing for the lead singer of the band. They had played at our high school prom where she'd had a thirty-second conversation with him. That one exchange led her to believe they now had an existential connection.

"Yeah, I'll meet y'all out there around ten."

"See you then," I called as I closed the door.

I grabbed my keys from my pocket and unlocked my car. I threw my backpack in the front seat, and then walked around the hood to head into work. The piece of paper under the windshield wiper caught my attention and stopped me from continuing up the sidewalk. I reached for it, assuming it was a flyer, but on closer inspection I realized it was a note written on Game Shell, Inc. paper-one of our biggest competitors. Coincidentally, also the consulting firm I had bid against at the DC until Dan and Brett had chosen me. It had to be a joke. Only, I didn't recognize the handwriting.

Annie

Every week I get excited for Thursday to roll around hoping to get to see you walk through the dc. You had on my favorite skirt yesterday, and I couldn't help but watch you. I love the way your smile lights up your face, and your eyes twinkle with just a hint of mischief. But just as I think I see something devious, they soften, and my heart skips a beat. You can't imagine where my thoughts go when you're around. Can't wait to see you again. Until then, I'll be thinking of you.

~GD

Looking around, utterly confused, the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I had no clue who would have written this, much less left it on my car in front of my office where any of my coworkers could have seen it. Even worse, I didn't have the foggiest notion who the hell "GD" was.