I want to dedicate this chapter to Nob0dy287. Your compliment made my day, I hope I can keep you addicted.

Tearing off tights with my teeth.
But there's no release, no peace.
I toss and turn without cease.
Like a curse, 
open my eyes and rise like yeast.
At least a couple of weeks since I last slept,
kept taking sleepers.
Insomnia, faithless

"Thanks for the ride," Roxy says against the closed car window, sarcasm lacing her words.

I'm staring at her retrieving frame, asking myself what the heck happened. Most people in this college know not to challenge me, it's an agreement made without words. And I gladly remember those who did dare, to never talk to me again, ever.

Not that I would kill you, but I'm not against rearranging your face.

I don't understand why I refrained from lashing out when she whipped her head around and literally called my face a vagina. My normally hasty mouth refused to connect with my brain and even if it did, nothing that would have come out would be good enough to get back at her. To humiliate her to the bone.

"Out!" I grumble infuriated to the species I call my friends. The girls scurry out the car like it's on fire and hurry across the grass and inside the building, while Asthon used to my outbursts flips me the bird and takes his time.

Elijah watches me through the rear-view mirror. I know that look. He's concerned, afraid that this girl pushed me over the edge. That I'm on verge of exploding.

It's nearly there, that day. Around this time of year, I can barely sleep, eat or concentrate. Well, even less than normal. I drink more, fight more and fuck more. All to keep some sort of sanity inside my dark clouded mind.

"I'm okay." I sigh and display a tight smile.

His gaze lingers on me for a few more seconds before he nods and opens the car door to slide out. He leaves the door open, sticking his head back inside and asks, "See you tonight?"

"Yeah, see you tonight." Bobbing my head at him.

"Cool, later Luke."

He leaves with a small salute, while I stretch my long legs before sliding back into the car to buckle myself in and drive home.

*

I throw the leftover pizza I ordered on my table after eating only two slices. For some reason, I feel off, more than usual. I pull my shirt off my back and push my skinny jeans down my legs deciding I could use a shower before heading towards Asthon.

The parties thrown at his fraternity never seem to disappoint. The house is filled to the rim with football jocks, drawing the hot and desperate girls in like a mot to a flame. All willing to spread their legs, dreaming of an easy life on the arm of famous NFL player. 

"Fucking pathetic." I laugh to myself.

I stumble, fighting to get my jeans off my feet and face plant the dark brown hardwood floor. I roll onto my back and try to kick them off like a kid on a tantrum, screaming, "Fucking, skinny, argh!"

Tired with the fight and also too lazy to take them off, I grumble and pull them back up my long legs. Still laying on the floor I reach for my Guns 'N Roses shirt between all the other clothes scattered around. I take a quick sniff agreeing with myself that it's clean enough for one more night and slide it over my head. I force myself to get off the wooden boards after minutes of staring at the picture frame hung next to my door, and stuff my feet in my worn-out Allstars.

I take a quick peek in the mirror and conclude that it's decent enough to pick up the girls with a shattered heart, rejected by their favorite football jock.

I park my ugly family car a block away from Ashton's fraternity and walk the rest. That car is a real pussy blocker, but all I can afford right now. The house seems already packed, seeing the foggy windows with moist dripping down them and the people scattered throughout the front lawn.

I run up the two stone stairs and push myself through the bodies crammed up in the hallway into the living area and look for green hair. I decided I want an easy fuck tonight. There is no energy in me for sweeping the weeping girls off their heels.

I spot her quite easily, grinding some football jock on one of the large sofas. Safe to say I won't be banging her tonight. Option two, Harlow, it is. She may not have a great rack, but her ass is a piece of art.

Roxy never misses an opportunity to get laid. I wonder if she does it for the same reasons as me. Escaping the never-ending images that will torment me the moment I'm not focused on keeping my brains preoccupied.

A beer bottle is given to me on my path to the kitchen area. I thank the unknown latter with a nod and proceed to look for one of my allies, hoping they aren't already upstairs getting a good suck and fuck.

I push myself through the endless dancing, grinding, and uvula licking bodies, reaching the kitchen. It's jammed, but not as crowded as the living space. I'm ready to turn on my heel, not seeing any of my friends when one guy, in particular, catches my attention.

He's sits on a stool, leaning against the bar opposite from me, talking to another jock. What's his name? I think he's in the same training group as Elijah....... Calum, that's it.

But that's not who I'm interested in. I recognize the other jock from the diner, dragging out that girl, Dee. He sure as hell didn't waste time finding himself another chick.

The sound of my molars grinding echoes in my head, seeing her latch herself onto his neck. He smiles and pulls her luscious body closer to his. I have to admit, she's mouthwatering hot. Sex on legs in her tight red dress. Her tits could function as a nice pillow, that's a fact.

"Fucking assface," I grumble against the rim of my bottle and take a long sip to calm myself. This girl is not my problem.

It is not your place to call him out on cheating on her. Keep your word vomit to yourself Hemmings.

The girl whines when he pushes her away to dig his phone out his pocket, wrapping her arms immediately back around his shoulders. He rolls his eyes looking at the ID and places the device without answer it in front of him.

"Her again?" Calum asks him.

He gives his chick a warning glare when she heavily sighs at his confirmation, adding a stern, "Don't." to it.

Curious, I lean sideways on the bar and listen in on their conversation.

"Yeah." A sigh leaves his mouth and I wonder why he sounds so defeated. I don't understand his problem if they are talking about the person I think they're talking about. He got himself a nice new one, in may I add, a speeding record.

”I don't know Ryder. I think you shouldn't be that hard on her. You're the only one she knows around here."

"She knows you." Pointing a beer bottle toward his friend. ” and she knows Ava and Zenon.”

"Dude?!" He exclaims irritated. "Don't get me started about those two! She moved because of them. And may I remind you that she never returned my calls or messages since that day."

His phone lights up and they all stare down at the screen, including me. It shows a picture of him holding a gorgeous tanned girl, with long dirty blond hair in his arms. She hugs him back, both displaying wide happy smiles. That's definitely not the swearing punk. She's even hotter than the chick beside him. I understand her sigh, he will leave her in a heartbeat for the girl calling him right now. Correction, both guys will.

Lucky fuckers.

The name AmberDee is flashing in black letters under the picture. He picks it up quickly, swiping the screen with his thumb to collect the call, grunting, "What do you want?!"

Wow, warm welcome there.

The girl shifts her body pushing herself flush against his back. She wraps her arms around his waist and leans her chin on his shoulder. He caresses her cheek with his free hand, seeming to appreciate the comforting gesture.

How long has he been playing Dee? Because they sure as heck look like a couple to me.

He rubs his face out of frustration after a long time listing to the caller, sighing ”Fine," and ends the conversation with that one word.

"Is your.."

Nails trailing along my spine deprive me from hearing the rest. I know precisely who's behind me.

Harlow.

The pretty American Indonesian mix, with silky dark brown hair and a perfect perky ass. I watch her walk around me drawing an invisible line with her index finger from my neck to my jaw, tapping my bottom lip, purring, "Hi Luke.”

She leans herself against the bar, pulling my body flush to hers. I willingly let her and my hands grab both her ass cheeks, grinding my itching crotch against the wafer-thin material of her shorts.

She moans a hot breath along the skin under my ear, nipping and sucking it. "Wanna leave?" She asks panting. But my interest shifted to the person appearing in the kitchen a second ago.

"Shit is gonna hit the fan," I mumble. Harlow unlatched herself from my neck to see what I'm referring to. She grins and shifts her body, brushing her ass along my dick, to face the guy who's the cause of a bitch fight hanging in the air.

Dee looks the girl up and down, rolling her eyes so hard that she possibly checked out her own ass. She crosses her arms and glares at Ryder.

A gasp across me make me snap my head toward Calum. His mouth is agape, stuttering incoherent words. Wide-eyed his gaze turns toward Ryder, asking in unbelief, "That's Dee? Our Dee?”

Our dee?

His bar stool makes a screeching sound, audible over the music, rising from it. He nods yes, and gives his lady friend a quick peck on the lips, before walking over to Dee to grab her by the arm and drag her away through the dancing crowd.

Harlow and I exchange confused looks. I'm sure she expected a good fight, like me. Are they swingers or something? That would explain Calum's, our Dee, and why she isn't scratching the other girl's eyes out. Otherwise, it doesn't make sense.

Harlow twists her body, bored with the outcome. She bites her lower lip and hooks her fingers on the waistband of my jeans, pulling me against her. "Where were we?" Her lips find my jaw, teasing me with their touch. Slowly my body pumps the blood into the direction her hand proceeds to assault me.

I see Ryder return in the corner of my eye without Dee, slumping back on the barstool. I snigger inside. Guess he is left with only one girl to fuck.

Teeth scrape alone my neck, up to my ear, biting into the lobe. "Luke, let's go to yours."

I tense and she feels it, looking up into my eyes.

"No Harlow. You know this!"

She lets out a frustrated groan, flipping her hair with her hand and whines. "Why not?"

God, all I want is an easy fuck! This is why I don't date. First, you have the honeymoon months, then the drama follows. You make up, marry and eventually shit will hit the fan, finding out your beloved wife doesn't really feel like being that monogamous at all. We humans are not made to stay with the same person his or her entire life.

"Please, Luke? I don't want to have sex in sheets that are already used." She pouts. "I promise to take extra good care of you. I'll even make you breakfast."

Oh, hell no!

She huffs, noticing that I'm not going to give in."Fine! Find someone else to fuck!" She pushes me and sends me a glare over her shoulder, before strutting away.

I roll my eyes at the drama queen and reach for another beer kept cool in an ice-bucked on the bar.

"Ryder!" A puff blond guy yells, storming into the kitchen, pushing people in his way. "Cole got your sister!"

Silence fills the kitchen, all eyes on Ryder who doesn't react.

"Dude didn't you hear me?! Cole got Dee!"

Wait up? Dee is his sister? I don't have time to process it, hearing a stool crash against the floor, while a swearing Ryder, followed by his friends, storms out.

I quickly follow behind and we're greeted with a large crowd in the front yard, splitting open like the red sea, noticing Ryder and his fellowship.

An enormous guy is holding Dee up by her throat, pushing her up against the side of a red pickup truck. She displays a sadistic smile, totally unimpressed by the fuming guy in front of her, calling her things my mom would smack me in the head for and tell me to go rinse my mouth with bleach.

The crowd gasps when she spits him straight in the face. You can see the veins pop in his neck, turning his head a deep red with anger. His grip tightness around her throat, making her wheeze to get air into her lungs.

A loud roar from Ryder rumbles through the air, tackling the giant holding Dee. The three crash against the pavement with force. Apparently, they are made of iron, immediately throwing punches at each other.

My legs move towards Dee without thinking. She's still struggling for air, picking her up from the stones and away from the fight. No girl needs to observe guys that bust each other skulls into pieces. Especially when one of them is your own blood.

I hold her by her shoulders and check for injuries, asking, "You okay?"

She nods yes, locking her eyes with mine. I thought I saw it wrong this afternoon in the car, sure she was wearing colored contacts. Squinting my eyes, I discover amber, orange, yellow and little flecks of dark red in the orbs staring back at me.

So unusual, I mumble to myself. A strange feeling runs through my veins. The same that made me feel more off than I usually do this time of year.

She breaks our stare gazing at the fight still going strong. My own eyes widen when I wrap my arms around her head, shielding her from the sight and tugging her into my chest.

What the heck are you doing Hemmings?

Her hand's fists the sides of my shirt, tightening their grip with each punch and grunt. Reinforcement comes and they break the two wannabe boxers apart, pulling them away from one another, while Cole yells his last threat, "I will get you, you fucking psycho bitch!"

Red dress girl throws herself immediately on Ryder. The chick is crying so loud at the sight of his busted face, that he feels the need to comfort her. Shouldn't it be the other way around?

She finally calms down and whips her head towards the girl I'm holding in my arms. "You!" She bawls, striding towards us.

I lower my arms, freeing her from my own hold, convinced she can handle this girl on her own and asking myself why the heck I'm comforting a girl that has been rude to me. Yes, I wasn't a hair better. But that's me, get over it.

"You!" She exclaims once more, digging her index finger into her chest. "Look what you have done! You only bring trouble. Do your brother and me a favor and crawl back to that hell hole you came from!"

I expected her to fight back, tell this girl to mind her own business like she did with me and apparently that giant named Cole. She doesn't.
She meets her brother's eyes without pulling a muscle in her face and nods. We all watch her climb into the red pick up truck and drive off in the night.

*

I yawn for what feels like the hundred time. The muscles in my jaw hurt and I'm sure it will pop out the socket anytime soon if I keep up this pace. I eat sleeping pills like they are candy, not helping me one bit. Thank the Lord I only have to go through one last course today. Fuck me that it's only Tuesday.

I walk into the auditorium and search for silky brown hair, belonging to Harlow. At least this last lecture won't be boring in her presence. Unless she is still mad about the whole not taking her to my place thing, then I'm fucked. And not in the way I like it, with a girl on top of me.

My step falters. I haven't seen her since Saturday night. Not that I have been searching for her. But I could imagine that she felt devastated after the physical and verbal attack from Saturday and I was wondering how she held up. Apparently, pretty good, talking with Harlow.

Since when did they become friends?

I slide into the seat next to her and get greeted by Harlow with a flirtatious wink. That answers the question if she's still angry. Dee sighs and nods coldly, taking me by surprise. Not that I expected her and me to be besties, but would a simple hello kill her? Apparently we are back to acting rude. Fine by me. You wish and I deliver.

The lecture begins and I try to focus on the material, not the conversation next to me. Succeeding until Harlow says, "It's quite clear you and parties don't go along, what about a getting coffee after this lecture, though?"

"I don't drink coffee."

"Okay?" She says unsure. ”So what do you drink?"

"Scotch."

Harlow leans back into her chair, searching eye contact with me, mouthing, is she serious? I shrug. I've no clue when it becomes to Dee and to be honest, I don't give a fuck either.

She lets out a low chuckle. ”Relax Harlow. I would like to grab a drink. Although, I do prefer hot chocolate over coffee.”

Harlow snorts and bumps her shoulder into Dee's, making both girls chuckle.

Look at that, she can be bearable.

I like you, who you are." Harlow admits.

She glanced sideways, focusing that unusually colored eyes on my friend. Her eyebrows furrow together as she asks in unbelief, "You like who I am?"

"Yeah," shrugging her shoulders, "Why not? You get what you see with you and you're funny. Most girls act nice in your face and stab you in back the second you turn around. Especially if it's about a guy they like," snorting when she says it. "I can tell you're not one of those and I like that."

She scans Harlow's face, uncertain of her motives. Her face softens and I catch a glimmer of sadness in those fire eyes before she shifts her gaze back to the front of the course, mumbling, "You can't like who I am, I don't even like who I am."

That uneasy feeling inside my veins returns contemplating her features. She is actually not that bad looking when you take away the piercings and without that constant harsh look etched onto her.

Why don't you like who you are?

She may dress like a punk, despite that, she wears make-up that doesn't scream, panda on the loose! It's subtle and makes her eyes stand out. Her lips are always covered in lip balm, making them more plump and rosy. That awful beanie seems glued to her head and made me believe she was too lazy to put any effort in. Now, looking closer you see that she actually did.

I have been with enough girls to know that her curls or not natural. It smells nice too. I can't put my finger on the scent my nostrils receive nodding her head at Harlow. I know I've smelled or tasted it before, but never on a girl. Suddenly the picture on his phone comes back to mind. Fucking shit, that really was her.

What happened to that girl without piercings and tattoos staring into the camera with a wide smile?

She pulls her beanie a bit further over her face, shifting uneasily in her seat, biting on the right side of her lower lip. She closes her eyes and my gaze shifts from her face to her hands covered in tattoos. A large rose on her left hand and the face of a woman covering the right one. I wonder how much skin is decorated with art under those baggy clothes. Her hands ball into tight fists, turning her knuckles white.

My gaze snaps back up, realizing her head turned my way, to be confronted with her burning stare. I can feel my heartbeat pulsating in my ears being hypnotized by the color once more. She leans forward until our noses almost touch and I can taste her sweet lip balm on my lips. Drawn by the taste of cherry, I lean in, closing our proximity.

Her eyes widen and I feel her nails dig into the skin of my jaw. Gripping it tight between her fingers, she hisses, "Stop studying me. You won't graduate!”

She is an angel.
She is the devil
She's sometimes in between.
She's as bad as it can get,
And as good as it can be.
Sometimes she's a million colors.
Mostly all black and white.
She is all extremes.
I try to figure her out,
Not sure I ever can.
There are some many things she is.