Michelle I’m so confused. What does Maddox want from me? First, he makes me agree to pretend to
be his girlfriend, and then he tells his friends that I’m not his type. What is that guy doing? Did he
change his mind?
Or…
Was the sex with me so terrible that he doesn’t even want to continue being in a fake relationship with
me?
My head is spinning. Why are guys so confusing?
I drink another glass of water. I’m trying to study inside the kitchen, but it’s pretty impossible with Ciara
and Zendra watching TV with the guys they are dating.
The volume is too high, and I jump every time the girls scream at whatever lousy horror movie is
playing. I bet they are faking it to hug their boyfriends. I would do the same with Maddox…
Then again, maybe I wouldn’t dare?
The guy wants nothing to do with me; he has made that clear by how he acted. He would push me
aside if I even tried that with him. And then, with his stern face, he would most likely point
out why I’m not his type and hurt me without realizing it.
Maddox is a big idiot.
An incoming text message captures my attention. I pick up my phone, and to my surprise, there are
text messages from Maddox but also from an unknown number. Maddox: Why are you ignoring me?
I’ve called like a billion times. Are you mad at me?
Mad?
No, I’m hurt! Frowning, I check the other message. Unknown number: Hey, this is Jason, Maddox’s
friend. The guys had a lot of fun when you visited last time, and you’re now invited to the party we will
have next weekend. The alcohol is free. Come as you are. Shit starts at six at our place. See you there!
I blink multiple times.
“I’m… I’m invited to a party?” I whisper to myself, wide-eyed and dazed, as I clutch my phone with
shaking hands. I’ve never been invited to one of these things, and I’m thrilled.
A smile curls my lips. The invitation is healing some of the significant heart damage Maddox caused
me. Speaking of him, there is another text message… Maddox: What have I done wrong???
Well, at least he realizes he has done something wrong.
The little dots flash across my screen as he types another message. I like him, so it takes a lot of effort
not to answer him. I’m trying to put myself first and maintain my pride.
But…
I really want to reply.
Maddox: Michelle… Talk to me. Please.
I sigh.
Me: We agreed on becoming a fake couple, Maddox. Why don’t you figure out why I’m confused and
hurt?
It takes less than a minute for him to respond. It must be a record for someone with so stupidly thick
fingers. He is thick-headed too… Yet I still like him. He can be sweet when he wants to
Sadly, I’m not as important to him as I initially thought since he seems to believe he can freely hurt me
whenever he likes. He said I lacked breasts and called me a nerd in front of his friends.
The worst part?
He never said sorry, so that’s why I was ignoring him. I had hoped Maddox would figure that part out on
his own.
Because in my world, an apology isn’t worth as much when you must tell the person to say sorry. I want
it to come from the heart.
Sighing for the millionth time, I look back at my phone.
Maddox: We don’t have to fake anything in front of my friends. Only the girls on campus and my
parents must think we are in love. The guys I trust. They would keep our secret. Maddox: Not that I’ve
told them of our arrangement or anything. A phone call comes in, and my heart shatters when I see
Maddox’s name because… Because I want to pick up, but I’m just so scared he will hurt me more.
Is it wrong that I just want one day of not talking to him? Because I like him, but Maddox is so thick-
headed that he doesn’t even realize when he stomps on a person’s feelings.
My phone stops flashing and vibrating; instead, it chimes with yet another text message.
Maddox: Could you pick up your phone?
Me: Can we talk tomorrow? I’m tired and will be heading to bed after I’ve finished studying for an
upcoming test. Have a good night, Maddox. Sleep tight. Maddox replies, but I don’t check his message.
My heart has sunk low, and I’m feeling melancholy. Why did I fall for the guy that would never be mine
in the first place?
Because I’m stupid, that’s why.
I finish studying and later head to my room. I brush my teeth, and before I close my eyes, there is a
new text message from another unknown number.
Silently, I tap on it.
Unknown number: So you are hanging with the rest of my team these days, huh? Didn’t have enough
sleeping with me, and now you want more football cock? You should have said something, Michelle.
Because guess what? I would LOVE to fuck your tight pussy again.
My heart stops, and I cover my mouth with both hands not to scream out loud inside my room. There is
no doubt that my new message is from Thomas.
Only that guy is disgusting enough to contact me after he forced himself upon me. I screamed and
fought him tooth and nail, but the fucker didn’t give up. He kept me against the wall, hushed me, and
groaned when I cried.
Thomas is a monster.
The phone vibrates again.
Unknown number: I heard you’re invited to the party this weekend. Sadly I’m not going. The other
players don’t like me, but… If you want jock cock, I can always find you on campus, Michelle. The
whole crying act kind of turns me on. I swallow thickly. What do I do?
These text messages don’t have enough evidence against Thomas, and no one would believe me if I
went to the police with this. But there is no fighting the panic swelling inside me. Perhaps I should call
in sick tomorrow? Yeah, that sounds like a great plan! I will lock my doors, possibly find a cheap car,
and get out of the country. I know I can’t afford that, but the thought of Thomas coming to find me on
campus? It scares me shitless. I never want to see that man again. He is a monster and the reason for
my nightmares. And I’m ashamed to admit this, but sometimes I wish something terrible would happen
to Thomas so he would never show up on campus again. Does that make me a horrible person?
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