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No longer able to restrain e search for Alex on my phone A slew of new pictures appear Often I send the photos to my email and save them in my Beaver Button folder These aren’t those kind

Alex looks gorgeous as usual except his ar his cheek He’s all smiles and dimples It’s possible she’s just a fan I scroll down to find more pictures of the two of them She’s tucked into his side with his arm thrown protectively around her

I want to knee him in the balls and smack his monster cock upside the head The hockey hooker in me wants to kick her ass and knock out all her teeth for kissing him anywhere Reality punches me in the boob—I’ve started to think of Alex as my boyfriend We’ve only been on one real date The flowers and the presents don’t ifts I feel so dumb

“Violet? Why are you breathing like that?”

I slidehi her” As if she can’t see what’s in front of her

“I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation”

“Sure there is He’s a whore, and I’rab my phone and close the browser I can’t look at hi detri

“You should call hi, eifts It doesn’t entle tone

“It does if he’s a player I’ave ives all his repeats—or whatever the hell I aot all these girls wrapped around his giant yeti finger, pretending to be nice when he’s really a dog Alex is probably the same, except smoother”

I must sound like a lunatic I’ve been paranoid all week, and now there’s justification

“Vi—”

“I’ll see you tomorrow”

I need to do soround I push away froI’m too deep into one of my neurotic episodes to be rational

I listen to angry gangster rap on the drive ho productive A jog seey and get perspective The first sign my idea is flawed occurs when it takesshoes Arry beats, I adjust my earbuds, and hit the sidewalk

It’s cold out, so I start with a light jog Two minutes in, I’m already winded but also deter or calling Alex I push on, and by the tione a block, I have a stitch inlike an asthlowing in the distance I check all ical ten dollar bill in the little one estion aren’t too far away I can , I need a milkshake

I’ by the tireetsho for myself I order fries and aoff the lid, I carefully coat each fry in frozen vanilla-flavoredAlex, literally, is the reason I’ my face with this crap Tomorrow I’ll end up with the rease

The h is destroyed by the cold walk hoes I don’t want to talk to Alex tonight I don’t know hibastard status, and I’ll be crushed It’s too e Nyquil is my sleep aid of choice otherwise I’ll never shut my mind off

The Waters beaver stares at et under the covers I ht because I wake up clutching hi ona fixture there