Mia Hill. College bound with an athletic scholarship. A go-getter with big dreams and a fully thought out plan to make sure they come true.
But with her father's release from prison looming and the inevitable stresses of adulting, everything she wa...
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There's something magical about the comfort of your own bed. There's this indescribable contentment that swallows you whole, wrapping around you and creating this bubble of warmth and peace. I'm piled beneath three layers of blankets, reveling in the heat I've manifested and dreading the moment I have to pull the covers off and feel the immediate smack of cold air across my skin.
My thoughts inevitably drift to Grayson. Something they've done for months now. Every little aspect of daily life can be connected back to him. I'm pretty sure my mind is set permanently in Grayson land despite the space I've wedged between us.
Like right now.
How cold my bed is without him in it and how I can't help but smile at the fact he'd be making fun of my many blankets right now. If he were here, though, we'd be cuddled beneath the lightest one, his natural warmth and blanketing arms enough to keep us both perfectly heated.
He's not here though. And that fact is enough to suck all the heat from my ridiculous blanket burrito.
I pull the covers off, letting the shock of the air slam against me. It rattles my chest, shaking the stupid thing in my ribcage that feels broken. It's not my heart's fault, I know that. If my heart were the only thinking contraption in my body, I'd be frolicking along a field of daisies singing in some cheesy musical about how much I love Grayson Adler.
But my heart doesn't get to feel like that. It doesn't get the joy of parading around like a Disney princess. Not when my head has spent the better part of my life creating a whole system to keep it protected. I've got walls, a security system, a whole failsafe for moments like this. Years worth of planning and prompting myself how this should go.
Somewhere along the lines, I've convinced myself that love is painful. Despite the beauty I've grown up to see between my mom and Tommy, I still can't get it out of my head that there's a painfully ugly side to it too. It's irrational, ridiculous, really. I know that. I do. But it doesn't seem to help in the fact that I still can't get there.
The night Grayson and I fought, the night I heard he drove drunk, it triggered something dark inside me. I've tried so desperately to bury those fears, the very ones that rip at my heart when the nights fall too quiet. Grayson is nothing like my father, but knowing that even someone as amazing as Grayson can make that same decision, even in a moment of need, fired off all those security systems I've planted.
I overreacted, I did. But I didn't realize that until I was sitting at Sadie's house, tossing and turning in bed, unable to settle the racing emotion from all that had played out that night.
And then it hit me.
I'm broken. Defective.
It's not Grayson who's in the wrong, it's this stupid cage around my heart that won't listen to reason. And why? Why can't I just brush it off as teenage recklessness? Why can't I just let my heart feel what it's aching to feel? Why can't I just be normal?
