Free Dismantled (Girls on Top #2) by Yara Greathouse Page B

finally lose it.
    “What?” I practically growl at her, but it doesn’t faze her, I can tell because her facial expression stays the same.
    “Grouchy much? Obviously, something has crawled up your butt. If I didn’t know any better, I would put my money on Blaze talking to me being the cause of your current aggravation. Am I close?”
    I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Then I lie. “Nope. Not even close.”
    She turns her whole body towards me, and I wish she was already driving so she couldn’t put all her attention on me and read me like a book while I’m stuck inside this box on wheels with her. “Talk to me, Traxx. I care about you and it kills me that you hold everything in.”
    “Please, let’s just go.”
    Her mouth opens as if she is ready to say something, and I guess she thinks better of it because she closes her mouth and turns around to face the steering wheel. Putting the car in gear, she starts to pull out of the parking place when she hits the brakes and puts the gear back in park. “You need to learn to communicate what’s bothering you, you know? All the stuff that’s inside your head can make you or break you. If you don’t let them out, those things are only going to feel heavier and more difficult to handle. When you finally decide to let the barriers go, you will feel better. I promise.” She raises her hand and grabs my chin, forcing me to look at her. “Sometimes sharing your pain helps the hurt and the guilt become more bearable. You need to feel that way. I need you to feel that way.”
    I choose not to answer. How can I tell her that over two years ago I met the one person that has captured my heart, but she’s too good, too perfect and I don’t deserve her? How do I tell her that I have wanted to be able to love her for years now, but that our own best friends don’t think I’m capable of feeling real love and all they thought was that I was going to hurt her? And that I have had to witness her being wooed by other guys who actually get to hug her, kiss her, hold her at night? On top of that, all I have at night is an empty bed and nightmares of a person I made feel so miserable, she decided to end her life instead of putting me out of my very own misery. How can I tell her all this? I just can’t. I can’t. It will make her realize how worthless I really am. I’m just not ready for her to know all of this.
    Her voice softens, “I know it’s hard, but we need to start somewhere.”
    We drive in silence and I can sense her patience waning down. My insides feel like a blender in high gear, mixing and pureeing all the feelings going through me, leaving nothing but a dark mush that nobody wants or cares for. I try to portray a calm state. I remember the breathing exercises Ciara taught me the other day, so I crack the window open and start to let the air in through my nose and out through my mouth.
    I think she is able to pick up on my anxiety, and I can feel her hesitate before she asks me a question.
    “Is it helping?”
    “Yes.” No. I’m too fucked up. I need you instead.
    Closing my eyes, I concentrate on the fresh air coming through the window, the smells of the street – barbeque, saltiness of the nearby sea, tacos – I can ‘visually’ feel the blender that’s inside my body and mind starts to go into a lower gear, until it finally slows down to a stop.
    “Yes, it helped.”
    She smiles. “Good.” And changes the subject, “What are you cooking us for dinner? I’m starved. Do I need to stop by the store?”
    “No, we are good. I think I have an idea of what to make.” I smile back at her and I’m grateful the darkness was not able to claim my soul this time.
     

     
    We get to the apartments and as we round the stairs to the 2 nd floor, she turns to look at me.
    “I’m going to stop by my place and take a quick shower first. Then I’ll come eat dinner with you, okay?”
    “Sure. See you in a bit.” I continued to climb the stairs to the third