Bella

“Uh, Acel, are you okay?” Thomas, my boss, asked me. I was back on the job in Louisa at Nuance Tavern and the work day was nothing but faulty. I had broken three glasses, taken orders wrong, and given out the wrong amount of change several times. “You’ve been a walking catastrophe today. I mean, I’m glad you’re back.”

I sighed and took my apron off, folding the red cloth as best as I could. It was a quarter ‘til ten, meaning my shift was over in three minutes. “I apologize, Tom. I’ve been a mess ever since I got back from Ramsay. Just dock it from my pay or give me a warning. Just—I apologize.”

“Nah, I’m not gonna dock your pay. I’ll give you a warning. What happened in Ramsay that’s got you like this? I’ve never seen you this out of it.” Thomas leaned against the counter, his blonde hair in a cropped mohawk.

I shrugged half-heartedly. “For starters, I found out that I impregnated my ex-girlfriend and then she lost the baby. On top of that, we kind of made out in my hotel room. Did I mention that her new boyfriend loathes me? It’s okay, though. I hate me, too.”

Thomas straightened his posture before patting me on the back. “Go home and get some rest, why don’t you? Clear your mind.” He paused and took something from his red apron. “Here’s a pack of cigarettes. Well, it’s what’s left of them. Smoke those and go to bed.”



When I got home, it was almost eleven o’clock. I was careful to make little to no noise as I shuffled through the apartment, as the walls were thin and sound carried well. Once in my room, where I didn’t even bother turning the light on, I stripped from my clothing, leaving my boxers and my socks on. I took the carton of smokes and my lighter from my pocket, lighting one.

On some levels, I wished that I was still fifteen, non-emancipated, and living with my mother, who could still be alive had it not been for my selfish ways. If I was, I wouldn’t be in the rut that I was now. Maybe I wouldn’t be so miserable, either.

I thought love was supposed to be the sappy feeling that made you feel mushy inside. As far as I could see, it didn’t do anything but make me feel like a pile of horse manure. I was constantly depressed, constantly thinking about Bella, and constantly regretting things that I couldn’t take back. I had a sudden urge to call Bella and tell her how I felt, but I had already tried that multiple times and failed. What more could I do? I couldn’t bring myself to let her go, but I wanted to. I wanted to move on.

Her face was in my head, along with her careless words were. I hated it. I hated her. I hated how prissy she made me feel. She made me feel vulnerable and exposed, and I hated it. I wished that there was a way to end it for good, but that wasn’t necessary what I wanted. I wanted her. I wanted to fit her in my arms again.

I should have felt guilty for kissing her like I had, for letting my fingers caress her skin like they had. I wasn’t in the least. I longed to find a girl who was the polar opposite of Bella. I longed to find a girl who would get Bella off of my mind. But whenever I attempted to, her face was always there, clouding my vision, tying my tongue in knots. She was like the plague, reeling you in with no way out with the first encounter. I hated it. I hated her.

Sighing heavily, I put out the cigarette, laying it in the ash tray that was sitting on the nightstand. Sliding my bare legs underneath the covers, I pulled the pillow underneath my bed. I closed my eyes, squeezed them tight, trying my hardest to lose myself to sleep. I needed to drown those thoughts. I need to drown Bella from my head.