Page 58 of Through the Storm

I blink. “What?”

“He’s an idiot,” Jess says, already tipsy. “We hate him now.”

A laugh slips out before I can stop it.

“Yes.” I lift my cup. “He sucks.”

The chant catches faster than it should.

“DAVIS SUCKS!”

I laugh, a little unhinged. The kind of laughter that surprises me with how good it feels.

I drink a little more. Then I drink again. I dance with my friends. Then with strangers.

At some point, Logan leans in close, with his easy smile and pulls me into his warm strong arms.

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod too fast. “Yeah. Totally.”

It’s a lie. But it’s a convincing one.

We dance. I let him hold me closer and closer. I lose track of time. Of drinks. Of intention. The music blurs, and the room spins just enough to make everything feel simpler.

He takes my hand, and I let him. Because maybe he can make the pain go away. We disappear upstairs, our laughter muffled by the walls, the night narrowing down to something easy and thoughtless. Fun and easy.

I try not to think about Ben. For a second, I don’t.

That’s the whole point.

The next morning, my head hurts and my phone is face-down on the nightstand like it’s judging me.

Logan is still asleep when I sneak out.

I pathetically notice there’s no text from Ben. Of course there isn’t.

But by noon, Logan does text. He checks in to make sure I’m okay. That we’re okay.

That fact alone already makes me feel less pathetic than I did yesterday.

So that night, I do it all over again. I go to another party, go home with another guy. But I feel the same numbness. I laugh when I leave, pulling on my jacket, and think to myself:wow.

A football player a day really might keep the heartbreak away.

I keep doing it all week.

It’s funny.

Until it isn’t.

The faces change. The conversations change. But the feeling never does.

The emptiness is still there.

By Sunday, I’m staring at another unfamiliar ceiling wondering why even though I feel a little better, I still miss the one person I wanted to stay.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN