Brie Sheridan has had her heart broken way too many times. Rhett Price is usually the culprit, but, this time, he might be the solution.
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Brooke 'Brie' Sheridan wouldn't necessa...
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BRIE
Rhett and I have gone out before, including on dates, so there's no plausible reason for me to be feeling this nervous, but, the second I close the door to my dorm room behind me and find him standing right outside, I forget how to breathe properly. I forget how to process a single thought like a normal person.
In fact, I forget how to find any other subject for those thoughts that isn't him. There are tiny Rhetts floating around my brain, taunting me about the fact that I, like him, cannot stop thinking about him.
This is a problem in more ways than one.
For starters, it makes me look vapid and stupid, the two worst things I can possibly be, as those two adjectives are a fantastic way of ruining someone's reputation and credibility.
I'm nothing without my obsession with feeling like I belong in every circle I'm inserted in (or force my way into, which is a more accurate way of describing my approach to social situations) and in every context under the sun, so, if there's anything about me that turns me into an outcast, my first instinct is to get rid of it as quickly as possible.
Even though it's hard to admit, both because of my pride and because it sounds like I'm using him, being with Rhett opens doors that would have remained blocked by a massive security guard if I was trying to get in by myself. Those blockages are much worse than locked doors, as those still give me a small chance of finding a key to break the lock or are a clear hard no, whereas these stay open as a reminder there will always be something standing in my way.
It's worse when I'm my own saboteur, sure, but that means I can overcome it by improving myself or my way of approaching the situation. External blockages are much harder to break through, especially when it's not up to me to fix them, and they serve as a reminder I've always been at a disadvantage when compared to the great majority of my peers—the rich ones, at least. There are other areas where I've always been privileged, and I can't ignore those, not even with money making the world go round and all.
"You look incredible," Rhett compliments, the moment I close the door. "You always look beautiful, but you're steps above it right now."
With Cole and most of the boys before him, every compliment felt backhanded, like there was always something to invalidate whatever good thing I had going on for me, not to mention the times I had to go out of my way to pretty much beg them to say something nice.
I don't need Golden Retrievers or yes men to make me happy, but it's always been an area in which I've found every boy I've been with has been lacking. There's never been a compliment given just for the sake of it; it has always been transactional or conditional. Sometimes, a girl just needs to be unpromptedly hyped and that will make her day a million times brighter; unfortunately, trying to explain this to boys just made me sound desperate for male approval and validation, which is apparently incredibly frowned upon.
