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Dirty Little Secret

twentyfour

I didn't know if I should follow Tate or call a cab home. But Tate said that I was home and that had to mean something. I scurry out of the car and into the house, locking the door behind me.

When I got up to Tate's room he was already lying in bed. I take Tate's jacket off then my costume. I rummage through Tate's dressing finding one of his shirts. I pull it on, step into a pair of yoga pants, and zip Tate's jacket around me. I slide in next him, so our shoulders touched.

"Tate," I whispered after a while. "I really need you to hold me, please."

After a few tense moments Tate rolled on his side and put his arm around me.

"Tate, I need you to talk to me, please. I need you to tell me how you're feeling."

"You don't want to know what I'm thinking about right now. Go to sleep Cori."

"Kiss me goodnight?" I ask in a small voice.

I hear Tate sigh then his hand moves from my waist to my face. He brings our lips together for a small kiss but I wouldn't let him go. I deepened the kiss, needing to feel Tate. Needing to forget that any other hands but Tate's were on me. Tate pulls away, "Cori, no."

"Tate, please. I'm sorry, I didn't want this. I was just talking to him and he followed me into the bedroom. I didn't lead him in there or ask him to join me. Please believe me," I cry out.

"I believe you," Tate says but his voice is unconvincing.

"I need you to kiss me, I still feel him on me. Make me forget, please."

"Maybe you should take a shower."

"Shower with me?" I remember him asking me that same thing once and I was so appalled but now I would give anything to not feel the way I am feeling at this moment.

Tate gave a breathy chuckle. "No. Go to sleep."

"I can't."

I can sense Tate becoming aggravated. "I can't do anymore, Cori. I'm still pissed and I don't want to take it out on you. You feel him on you and I see him on you."

"Then tell me that you still want to be with me."

"Of course I want to be with you, but I want to be asleep."

"Kiss me again and I promise I'll go to sleep."

Tate's lips barely skimmed over mine before he was pulling away but I didn't protest. I snuggled my face into his bare chest and let the constant sound of Tate's steady breathing rock me into an uneasy sleep.

I woke up alone, balled up in the middle of the bed. I heard the muffled voices of Tate and his parents talking downstairs but I'm not ready to face what Tate might have or have not told them. I crawl out of bed and head into the bathroom to examine my face.

A large bruise covered the right side of my face, my eye was a little puffy and the lip was swollen from a busted lip. There was a bite mark on my chest that stung when the hot water touched it. Above all my head throbbed and I felt like throwing up. I vowed that last night would be the last time I drank; I never wanted to feel like this again.

Tate knocks softly just as I am slipping my shoes on. "Where are you going?" He asks popping his head into the room.

"I need to go get my car."

"How do you feel?" He asks warily.

"I don't want to talk about it," I flip my wet hair upside down to run my fingers through my already forming curls.

"I think you should tell the police."

"No, I don't want Aliyah to get in trouble for throwing a party and get the person in trouble for whoever supplied the alcohol to get put in jail for supplying underage kids with alcohol. I don't want you to get in trouble for assault so it's just better if we forget about it and move. Nothing happened to me, I'm fine."

I know that I'm not fine, on the inside I am still shook up from the images that are stuck on repeat, constantly flashing through my head. Feeling Louis on me, touching me and kissing me. Tate pulling him off of me. The fight they had, the animal look Tate had in his eyes as his formed fists collided with Louis' face over and over again. Tate unable to look at me, barely speaking to me, or touching me like I had some sort of disease he was afraid to get.

I knew that it was only a matter of time until Tate wouldn't be able to fake these feelings anymore and he'll let me go. He wouldn't want someone this damaged; he'll get tired of picking up the pieces when he has so many of his own pieces are missing.

"I'm sorry," Tate says. He had an eerie ability to sense how I was feeling, or maybe I just wasn't good at hiding it.

"What are you sorry for? You didn't try to rape me, you told me you didn't want to go to that party. It was my fault."

"It wasn't your fault," Tate says at first.

"Admit it, you were thinking that last night."

"Well yeah it ran through my head but I wasn't going to rub it in your face that I was right and you were wrong."

"I'm going to go get my car, I'll talk to you later."

"Okay."

I call of the maids and she comes to get me and drives me to Aliyah's house. I don't bother knocking on the door to tell her that I was somewhat okay or ask her if she needs any help cleaning up. Instead I just get into my car and leave.

I don't want to go back to Tate's. I don't want to face the reality that our secret relationship was crumbling and I couldn't do a thing about it. I knew that we both want this but things got in our way and stuff happened and we both are missing too many pieces to try and fix each other.

I decide to go to my house, I haven't been there in a while. I am starting to forget what my room looked like or what kind of clothes I still had there.

My room was cold and lonely compared to Tate's room. It was too big for just me and my thoughts. I lie down on the tidy bed and felt the impact of everything that was happening hit me with full force. I could barely breathe. I was suffocating with emotions. I was sad, depressed, angry, and rejected.

I shouldn't be feeling like this, not with the life that I have made myself. I have money and I have people that worship me and everyone finds me attractive but I'm selfish and it wasn't enough. I wanted to be in a relationship with Tate and I wanted it to work out. I didn't want to have to give up my old life either though. I wanted the best of both worlds. If Hannah Montana could do it why couldn't I?

But I knew that Tate's life was simpler without me in it and I knew that he was pushing away because I am like a ticking time bomb and when I go off, Tate doesn't want to be responsible for pick me up, broken piece by broken piece.

I took out my phone and dialed Tate's number. He answered on the first ring. "Are you on your way back home?"

"I'm breaking up with you," I hang up before he has a chance to say anything.

I switch my phone off and get back into my car. If there was anything my mother taught me it was that a trip to the spa could cure almost everything and I hoped that it was enough to mend a broken heart.
♠ ♠ ♠
I stayed up all night writing this chapter then I reread and I was like "HOLY FUCK! I can't post that! How can I write things like this? Why is my train of thought this fucked up?!"
The original chapter was way too harsh for me to post (Tate said some really nasty things) so I rewrote it and I think everyone will be much happier with this version and what is to come.

So yeah this one is kinda short but I'll probably post another chapter tonight or early tomorrow morning.

Later Alligator.
xox.