Page 123 of From Me to You

I chugged the water and placed it back. “I am sure. I will be fine. I have asked White to arrange a car anyway, so you don’t need to worry. Enjoy your night. I will see you at home.” I lied.

It will be the perfect explanation,she said. God, when had I gotten so good at lying? Sadness and desperation sometimes turn you into a whole different person. Also, alcohol. Most definitely alcohol.

He reluctantly nodded as I waved him goodbye.

I dashed out the backdoor and headed to the parking lot where Will was waiting for me. I slid into the passenger seat.

“You ready?” Will asked.

“Yes,” I whispered, staring at the L.A. lights blurring through the car window as we sped to the house.

I opened the photo app on my phone. I touched a picture of Jay. He was sitting on the floor with ‘Firebird’ in his lap and grinning at the camera.At me. I loved that picture.

I traced my finger through his face. “I love you,” I whispered.

Will gave me a side-eye. I quickly switched off my phone and slid it into my little purse.

“We don’t really have to do this.” Will repeated for what seemed like the one-hundredthtime since I told him about the plan.

“You either do it, Will, or there are countless other men who could do it for me,” I said, leaving no room for argument.

He sighed. “Okay.”

Soon we pulled up at the house. I hated that house. The white walls were a prison that held me in silent suffering. I would never forgive this place. Solitary confinement was what it was.

“Okay, so how do you want to do this?” Will plopped on our bed—the bed that Jay and I shared. But not anymore.

White had given me a detailed description of how this would all go down. It was so detailed that she might as well have given me a PowerPoint presentation.

It sickened me. What I was about to do.

“Shirt off, Will. He will be here any minute.”

He slid off his shirt. “How is he going to know again? That we are going to be here?”

Because White was going to tell Jay that I hadn’t really asked for a car. And he was going to rush home to check on me because I wasn’t picking up my phone. Which I had conveniently switched off.

“You don’t need to worry about that,” I said, dabbing my lipstick on the side of his neck and his lips.

“Unbutton your pants and unzip your fly a bit.”

“I wish you could have asked me in better circumstances, princess.” Will grinned while he did what I asked.

I sighed in sadness as I headed to the bathroom. I bent upside down and scrunched up my hair so that it stood all over the place. I smeared my lipstick all over my face, down to my chin and neck.

I then pulled down one of the straps on my dress, so my bra was showing. I lifted my dress skirt and made it look so short that if I bent down, my ass would hang out.

There, I looked into my sad exhausted brown eyes that stared back at me in the mirror. I looked like I was just about to have sex/had sex.

I walked outside to see Will taking pictures of his face.

“What are you doing?” I mumbled as I slid into the bed, lying on my back. I willed down the nausea that made my stomach curl.

“I am taking pictures of my pretty face before your boyfriend rearranges it.”

“Come one, over me like we are having sex, missionary style,” I mumbled as the hurt and deep sadness settled over me. I didn’t want to do this. I felt like crying.

Will slid on top of me, pulling the blankets over us. He braced his weight on his elbows. No part of his body actually touched mine, but it certainly looked like it did. Which was what she wanted.