Chapter One:

Sick. You're sick. So sick.

I loathe that word. It defines me, it chases me in my nightmares, it strangles me when I'm not expecting it. It could go to hell for all I care.

That word is the reason why I'm afraid of everything. I don't go for what I want because it. I don't ask for anything from anyone. And I definitely don't pursue my crushes.

But all it takes is one temptation, and I can't resist.

Because I'm sick.

For as long as I can remember, my mother has tried to maintain my "illness". She would say, "Rachel, darling, if you don't think about anything sinful, you won't sin.". But that method never worked, even after she'd beat me senseless after I did the things she considered wrong.

The only person who understood my sickness was my best friend. But after she died, I had no one else. All I wanted was a new start.

So I moved far far away from home. I started new, changed my last name, and deleted all contact information I had of my mother. I was determined of having a better life.

Goodbye, Regalton. Hello, Westchester.

It started normal. I got a new apartment, and I made friends with the girl I'm sharing rent with - although she isn't the same as Debbie ever was. I got a new job, and I finally felt like I belonged somewhere.

But in my position, all it takes is one second - or person - to fuck it all up.

As soon as I laid eyes on Trey Donovan, I knew I wanted him.

Even if I knew before how wrong he was, how toxic he'd be for me, I probably would have wanted him more.

No matter what I would have known or did, Trey still would have brought a sledgehammer to my life, wrecking and breaking it. No matter the damage, he would have left it worse than it was before I met him.

**

Friday, February 5th, 2016

4:32 P.M.

I've been good. Every day I went to work this week, I saw Trey at least five times each day. I held it together. I didn't pull him into the supply closet and rip his clothes off. I didn't kiss him during the meeting with the China market. I didn't flash him.

Don't get me wrong; it's tough. It's like the thirst alcoholics have when they go hours without a drink. It's the ache and burn vampires feel when they see an open wound on a human. I want to scratch at my throat to ease the itch, even if it means I tear my jugular in the process.

I unlock the door to my apartment. As I enter, my roommate, Kayla, never glances up from her Cosmo magazine as she lounges on the sofa.

"How was work?" she asks, her nose still deep in the mag. "Anything interesting happen?"

I could go for a drink, I think as I toss my jacket onto the back of the armchair. "You know, work is work." I sigh as I sink into the chair across from her.

Finally, her wild green eyes lift, and they stare at me above the pages in her hands. "Really? Just work?" Kayla slaps the magazine down onto the coffee table in front of her. "You always have something to say about it. Why so quiet?"

I swallow hard. Something that always would get me in trouble was gossip, or saying too much. But it kills me not to share my infatuation with my co-worker.

"Rachel?" Kayla sits up straight, arching an eyebrow as she crosses her arms. "I'm waiting."

That's another reason Kayla could never stand up against Debbie. Debbie was patient and understanding. Kayla, on the other hand, is pushy and bold. I'm not sure which is better, and which is a worse quality in a friend.

Do it. Tell her. Just tell her. DO IT.

"T-there's this guy," I sputter out, the words flying out of my mouth as soon as I think of them. "A guy from work."

Her eyes widen. Her mouth smiles. "What!? A guy? What guy?"

The pit of my stomach stirs. Picturing Trey in my mind, I want him in front of me. I want to kiss him, to strip him bare, to... I shake my head, swallowing again. Then comes the guilt. "H-he's just this guy I kinda like." I feel my voice shake as I whisper the words.

If she could hear the thoughts that sing in my head, Kayla would run for the hills. Maybe she'd even tweet about it on her way there.

"How long has this been going on?"

If by "this", she means unrequited stares across the hallways, daydreaming in the break room, and admiring his sexy smirks, then nothing has been "going on".

"He doesn't like me back." I shake my head. "He doesn't even notice me."

Kayla unfolds her arms just to fold them again. "And how do you know that? Maybe he secretly pines after you too."

My chest tightens. It's like a hunger growling inside of me. Thank God tomorrow is Saturday. "No way." I cough. "Trey is perfect. There's no way he would look at someone like me and think I'm his type." Even if he did, as soon as he gets a peek at who I am on the inside, he'd be disgusted.

Outraged, she comes to a stand. "Shut up before I smack you." Kayla paces to the kitchen corner. "You are drop dead gorge! I see the way guys eye you on the street."

The thought of that makes my stomach curdle. I see their looks too, and it's sick. The lust in their eyes just from staring at my body is revolting. Like, who knows what they want from me. Maybe I don't feel the same about them because I have no interest back.

Still, I don't see what they see in me. When I look in the bathroom mirror, I get an eyeful of thin bones, skinny hips, too long blonde hair that has the ends frayed, and blue eyes that - to me at least - are too big for my face. And don't get me started on these thin lips.

"So?" Kayla snaps me out of my thoughts. She peers over at me, slowly picking at something on the kitchen counter. "What are you gonna do about it?"

"What do you mean?" I feel my heart instantly quicken. I can't think about acting on it. I can't. I won't. I can't.

But my roommate encourages me anyway. If only she knew... "Are you gonna tell the boy or not? How else will he know that you like him? Boys can't read our minds, you know."

I exhale, feeling my insides spin in circles, the web developing, and I slowly get lost in all of it. It's like when you're close to the finish line, and although you want to be humble and let the underdog win, your legs twitch and inch towards the end. You just wanna get it over with.

"I-I can't, Kayla."

"Why not?"

Her blunt voice intimidates me. She reminds me of the girl from highschool who gets you to give into peer pressure with her intense eyes and loud voice. You can't say no, no matter how much you want to.

I throw my hands up. "What do you expect me to do? Waltz up to the guy and profess my love for him?"

She rolls her eyes. "No!" she strolls back into the living area. "Just ask him out. There aren't any rules that say a woman can't ask a man out on a date."

"I don't know," I shake my head, feeling conflicted and clouded.

"Rachel, just ask him to be your Valentine or some other dumb shit! Valentine's Day is like a week away anyway."

Valentine's Day? "I thought that was a middle school thing?"

"Yeah, it's kinda sappy, but it's an easy way to get him to know how you feel." She ticks her brows. "You know you wanna do it. It'll be fun."

I can imagine it happening now. My would palms sweaty like I'm a sixth grader again. I'd walk up to his office, and just go in since the door would already be open. He'd be sitting at his desk, his eyes focused on the monitor. When he'd notice I'm inside, he would slide his chair to face me, that kinda hot smug grin spreading across his face as he'd say "Yes?" and I would feel my heart beating fast before I'd finally ask him.

God, I miss those feelings when I finally give in. I love that rush of adrenaline that pumps through my veins, the sensation that calls me home. But the instant shot of regret and guilt is what brings me down from the high whether I get in trouble or not.

I can't though. This is the reason why I moved to Seattle. I wanted to get better - I still do! I want to leave my past behind, and to never look back. But as that impulse rolls in like a brewing storm, I can't help but think "what's wrong with one last time?"

Before Kayla can persist, I nod my head. "Okay. I'll ask my crush out."

My roommate grins, and she hops back onto the sofa, snatching her Cosmo magazine from the coffee table. "You won't regret this, I promise."

I swallow hard. If she had any clue, she would know I will.

______________________

Graphic credit: me c: