1. Nora

ONE

You'd thinkthat six months after being broken up with would mean you're feeling on top of the world, but it doesn't. In fact, it feels like the exact opposite. Instead of sunshine and rainbows, I feel like the dark nothingness at the bottom of a trash bag.

Uninteresting, smelly, and not something you want to spend your time around.

I've been pacing the living room of my dorm for the last…. I actually don't know how long. All I know is I've gotten to the point where my legs aren't moving because I'm telling them to, but out of the fact that I've been doing it so long, it feels like second nature.

Just back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and fucking forth.

My two roommates are sitting on the couch, watching me pace as I go through every stage of grief for what is probably the third time this month alone. I've completely skipped having second thoughts about my life choices and gone straight to third.

"You know what? I don't even care," I mutter angrily, still pacing. I'm starting to get hungry. Maybe I should sit down and face my feelings with some food and lots of it. I scoff to myself at my own thoughts. That sounds like a healthy coping mechanism.

"You do care, Nor-Nor, and that's okay."

Do you ever wish your friends weren't so perfect and sweet all the goddamn time? Especially ones like Eleanor Harper, ballet dancer and absolute sunshine incarnate. She can be sneaky and dirty-minded when she wants to be, but in times like these, she's an absolute angel who says things to me in that lovely, innocent voice of hers, making me want to curl up into her lap and let her continue talking me out of my mind.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say, my voice bright as I continue walking back and forth.

I'd be dizzy if I hadn't spent my entire life on a stage or trying to get on one, doing these sorts of acting drills for hours. Not getting dizzy is my superpower. Unfortunately for my friends, I'm probably making them sick by doing this.

My parents have had enough of me turning up at home unannounced as I recount the last six months of my life to them. My mom is usually the best at giving advice, but this is the one thing she can't cure with her sweet words and never-ending list of fun activities to get me out of my slump. She lucked out in the boyfriend department and got together with my dad in high school, and now she's stuck with him. Despite her surprise pregnancy with me and my twin brother, Connor, I've never seen two people more in love with each other.

"I would still be pissed if I were you," Cat says, tucking her legs beneath her on the couch. If we had to be ranked from least to most unhinged, Cat would be somewhere at the bottom. Since we were kids, she's had this wiser, calming presence around her that makes me feel like I'm floating on a cloud. Her words are frustratingly soft sometimes, but she's also one of the most stubborn people I know. She's also one of the kindest people I know. Kind enough to have gone out of her way last year to help my brother when he was having some anxiety talking to reporters and now he's been trailing behind her for months.

"Seriously?" Elle gawks. "It's been six months, and you'd still be pissed? Wouldn't your anger be channeled into something else by this point? Something healthy."

"I can be pissed and channel it in different ways," I say to them, finally coming to a stop. I sit on the stack of romance novels on the coffee table, facing them. A deep red dances along her cheeks and stains Elle's brown skin. "This is healthy, Elle-Belle, trust me."

"How?" she asks, crossing her arms defensively. Cat mirrors her expression, trapping her braids under her arms. It's like having parents for best friends: a blessing and a curse.

"By imagining all the things that Daisy doesn't know about him yet. Like how he cries a lot of the time after sex, how he believed in Santa until he was fourteen, how he sings Oklahoma when he's sad." I list all the things on my fingers.

Really, I could keep going.

Sometimes, you're so blinded by love that you don't realize the number of things that you were so used to seeing that they became normal. Like how Ryan often forgot when we had a date planned and told me he was too tired to go. Like how I'd go to his dorm afterward and he'd be passed out drunk in his bed. And how I'd forgive him. Every. Single. Time.

You give yourself so much to someone just for them to find someone better and not need you anymore. You're so caught up in it that everyone else around you can see it before you can. You end up making excuses for people who don't deserve them.

But not anymore.

"Jesus." Cat shivers at the images I just painted of Ryan.

"Yeah. Imagine her surprise when she finds out he has a micro-penis," I mutter, shrugging innocently. Both of their eyes go wide, and Elle almost falls off her seat.

"What? Does he really?" Elle squeals, unable to stop herself from laughing as a very unladylike laugh bubbles over.

"Oh, you poor girl," Cat murmurs, shaking her head. "No wonder you never talked about your sex life with us. I understand the disappointment. Well… I don't, personally… Because my boyfriend's penis is… You know what I mean… I'm just going to stop talking."

I wave my hand in her face. "Okay, okay. I get it. I don't want to talk about what size my brother's man parts are," I shout, covering my ears. They've been dating for almost a year now, and I'm still not used to the fact that my twin brother and my best friend are madly in love. "But Ryan doesn't have a micro-penis. I wish he did. It would make this whole thing a lot easier. He actually has a very normal-sized penis."

They both pout at me, a look I've come accustomed to seeing on their faces. Since the breakup, Ryan has moved on to three different women. Now, he's dating a gorgeous blonde in our acting class, Daisy. She and I were friends in freshman year, but the second her agent dropped her and I got signed to an acting agency, she's been bitter. She's always got this insanely passive look on her face like the world doesn't bother her, and she freaks me the fuck out. I didn't ask to be born this talented. Besides, I've been scouring the media with my parents to get an agent, and I was able to take the opportunity I worked for.

Whilst Ryan has been having the time of his life with multiple women, I've just been… here. My sadness took hold of me, and I managed to get fired from working at the bookstore, which became my second home. I've had little motivation to do anything other than attend class and browse LinkedIn for a job for when winter rolls around. Ryan's managed to make my life look like shit because his own is apparently so great.

It's not like I haven't had the chance to.

I've been to parties more than I have been in my bed. Yet every time I try to make a move on someone, it ends up being embarrassing for both of us.

I don't know how to get my groove back. I thought kissing my best friend would make him jealous, but he didn't even flinch. I don't know what it's going to take to get myself out of this funk and back to being the star I once was–on and off stage.

I tilt my head up to the ceiling, trying my hardest not to break down. I'm stronger than this. Way stronger than this. It's been too long to still be moping. I should have pulled myself together by now.

"This just sucks, you know?" I whisper, finally looking back at them. "I'll never know what I did wrong for him to stop loving me. That's what hurts the most. Because then… Maybe I could have fixed it."

Elle sighs, reaching out to rest her hand on my knee, steadying it. "You didn't do anything wrong, Nor. He's just a dick."

"Yeah, maybe," I sniffle, still not fully believing it.

I know this is one of those moments where you're supposed to listen to your friends, but what they're saying doesn't make sense to me. The truth of it is so simple. It's so clear it's practically blinding, weaving its way behind my eyelids every time I close my eyes or look in the mirror. If he had loved me enough, he would have stayed. He wouldn't have found anyone better, and I would have been enough for him. But I wasn't.

Cat stands up, suddenly full of energy. "Come on. Let's cheer you up. Shots at The Dragon. My treat. I got paid this morning, and I'm ready to sugar mama you both." She reaches out her hands and pulls me up from the table.

"Ooo, look at you, Little Miss I Have A Job Now," Elle coos, now standing beside us. She brushes her long, curly hair behind her, wrapping her slender arms around Cat's shoulders.

"I know! I'm loving it," Cat replies. She's been out of a job for years. She's never really needed the money, and I think the whole ordeal made her too anxious. But since Cat's summer internship at a local sports magazine went really well, she was able to stay on part-time writing a piece about the school. "Now I get to treat my girls."

Elle squeals, and she pulls us into a hug.

Maybe I just need one more night out. One more night of forgetting before I have to face Ryan on campus and in classes for another semester. With the smile on my best friend's faces, it"s hard to say no to them, anyway.