there’s nothing I can do while we’re on this ship, surrounded by her friends. I need her alone, back at school. She’s got Jen, but Jen is my friend, too. Maybe she’ll help.
I beg off plans with my friends after dinner, telling them I’m still not feeling well. It’s not a lie at this point. I’m sick. I can’t get Brooke out of my head. I can’t breathe without her.
I find myself at one of the bars and sit down and ask for a drink. At this point I don’t even care what it is, I just want to be numb from the pain. The bartender asks if I’m okay, but I can’t explain what’s going on. I shake my head, but he gets it that I’m not going to talk.
It only takes about three drinks before I start feeling better, feeling free. A few more drinks and memories of Brooke start to fade into the distance. It won’t take many more to forget her completely, at least for tonight.
I spin my stool toward the rest of the room and take in the crowd. Most of the people out this late are couples cuddling against each other at small tables scattered throughout the space. The dance floor in here is pretty small, nothing like the dance club, but it’s still crowded. I think to last night when I was dancing with Brooke. Having her in my arms, feeling like we were okay, even for a few minutes, was enough to give me hope. But today, that’s gone.
Brooke breezes into the bar, oblivious of my presence. It’s definitely over if she can walk into a room and not know I’m here. My body lights up every time she’s within a mile of me. But she doesn’t want me.
She and her friends go straight to the dance floor. They are moving with the music and I can’t stand to watch her, and know I can’t touch her, go to her. I see a few guys at the bar watching them and know I need to leave before I have to watch her flirt with someone else.
I find another bar and keep drinking, pushing away my thoughts of Brooke. She’s probably laughing with her friends, talking about how pathetic I was to think this would all go away. I’ll make it right one day. I have to.
No matter how hard I try to push Brooke out of my head, she keeps coming back. I swallow each memory of her with another drink. I have no idea how many drinks I’ve had, but I can barely stand. With a nod to the bartender, I wobble away from the bar, knowing I need to find my room.
I manage to locate the right floor and then walk it a few times before discovering my door. It takes a few tries, but I finally get the key in the lock and push through the door. I stumble to my bed and drop my clothes to the floor. I fall to the bed and the room spins violently. I’m not sure if it’s the boat or the alcohol, or both. The room stabilizes when I set my foot on the floor.
I drift off quickly, falling into a deep sleep. And dream about Brooke.
She enters my room. Her impossibly short dress is still dancing just below her ass. She walks to my side and asks if I’m okay. I tell her I can’t be okay unless she’s mine again. That nothing in life is okay without her. She whispers, “I’ll always be yours,” and my heart begins to heal.
Brooke bends forward and presses a kiss to my forehead. I grab her wrist, not letting her get away. This may be a dream, but it’s my dream, and she’s the only thing I want.
Brooke looks to the tent in my boxers and raises an eyebrow at me. I tell her, “You have that effect on me. Even in my dreams.”
I reach up to her, but the room spins when I try to sit up. How am I so drunk in my dream? This sucks. But Brooke is here and that’s all that matters. She’s mine in my dreams, and no one can take that away.
She leans forward and kisses me. It feels familiar, but strange in some way. I guess because it’s not real. I push away my thoughts, wanting to be with her, even if it’s only a dream. I’ll take her any way I can get her.
Brooke climbs on top of me, straddling me between her legs. My fingers move to the edge of her dress and
I beg off plans with my friends after dinner, telling them I’m still not feeling well. It’s not a lie at this point. I’m sick. I can’t get Brooke out of my head. I can’t breathe without her.
I find myself at one of the bars and sit down and ask for a drink. At this point I don’t even care what it is, I just want to be numb from the pain. The bartender asks if I’m okay, but I can’t explain what’s going on. I shake my head, but he gets it that I’m not going to talk.
It only takes about three drinks before I start feeling better, feeling free. A few more drinks and memories of Brooke start to fade into the distance. It won’t take many more to forget her completely, at least for tonight.
I spin my stool toward the rest of the room and take in the crowd. Most of the people out this late are couples cuddling against each other at small tables scattered throughout the space. The dance floor in here is pretty small, nothing like the dance club, but it’s still crowded. I think to last night when I was dancing with Brooke. Having her in my arms, feeling like we were okay, even for a few minutes, was enough to give me hope. But today, that’s gone.
Brooke breezes into the bar, oblivious of my presence. It’s definitely over if she can walk into a room and not know I’m here. My body lights up every time she’s within a mile of me. But she doesn’t want me.
She and her friends go straight to the dance floor. They are moving with the music and I can’t stand to watch her, and know I can’t touch her, go to her. I see a few guys at the bar watching them and know I need to leave before I have to watch her flirt with someone else.
I find another bar and keep drinking, pushing away my thoughts of Brooke. She’s probably laughing with her friends, talking about how pathetic I was to think this would all go away. I’ll make it right one day. I have to.
No matter how hard I try to push Brooke out of my head, she keeps coming back. I swallow each memory of her with another drink. I have no idea how many drinks I’ve had, but I can barely stand. With a nod to the bartender, I wobble away from the bar, knowing I need to find my room.
I manage to locate the right floor and then walk it a few times before discovering my door. It takes a few tries, but I finally get the key in the lock and push through the door. I stumble to my bed and drop my clothes to the floor. I fall to the bed and the room spins violently. I’m not sure if it’s the boat or the alcohol, or both. The room stabilizes when I set my foot on the floor.
I drift off quickly, falling into a deep sleep. And dream about Brooke.
She enters my room. Her impossibly short dress is still dancing just below her ass. She walks to my side and asks if I’m okay. I tell her I can’t be okay unless she’s mine again. That nothing in life is okay without her. She whispers, “I’ll always be yours,” and my heart begins to heal.
Brooke bends forward and presses a kiss to my forehead. I grab her wrist, not letting her get away. This may be a dream, but it’s my dream, and she’s the only thing I want.
Brooke looks to the tent in my boxers and raises an eyebrow at me. I tell her, “You have that effect on me. Even in my dreams.”
I reach up to her, but the room spins when I try to sit up. How am I so drunk in my dream? This sucks. But Brooke is here and that’s all that matters. She’s mine in my dreams, and no one can take that away.
She leans forward and kisses me. It feels familiar, but strange in some way. I guess because it’s not real. I push away my thoughts, wanting to be with her, even if it’s only a dream. I’ll take her any way I can get her.
Brooke climbs on top of me, straddling me between her legs. My fingers move to the edge of her dress and
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