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A Sense of Betrayal

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Zeec Rustom

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“She inhales, a soft, breathy sound, her chest rising, and I lean in and do what I swore I’d never do in my entire life. I kiss Olivia Drayton, right there in my kitchen. Pressing my mouth to hers, I go in soft and slow, pausing and waiting to see if she kisses me back. "Parker,” she breathes, her mouth hot and ready against my lips. But instead of breaking away, stopping things before they can start between us, she crushes her lips to mine and I know right then I’m in deep fucking trouble. And it tastes so, so good.”

“Take your clothes off.” The words are a gruff demand, and although she raises her brows, for once in her life, she doesn’t question me. I know my eyes are hot on her, unblinking and utterly focused as she stands, then gives her overalls a delicate push down so they spill around her feet. She steps out of them and kicks them to the side. “If you think I’m getting naked in the middle of the day, with you standing here fully dressed, you’re kidding yourself.” I grin. “Here I was hoping that might be something you’re into.” “Get naked or get out, Marcus.” “Brave words from a woman who’s not wearing pants.”

“Simon appeared at the doorway behind Tori and Derek. He waved to me and mouthed "run while you can." Not a bad idea. I snuck around them and zipped out the door to where Simon waited. Then I glanced back at Tori. "Don't worry about her," he said. "Probably the most fun she's had in days." He led me into the next room. "Sadly, I can't say the same for Derek, and as soon as he stops arguing long enough to notice you're gone—" "Hey!" Derek called. "Where are you two going?" Simon took my elbow and steered me at a jog through the house as Derek's footsteps pounded behind us.”

“Like a lot of people with mental illness, I spend a lot of time fronting. It’s really important to me to not appear crazy, to fit in, to seem normal, to do the things “normal people” do, to blend in. As a defense mechanism, fronting makes a lot of sense, and you hone that mechanism after years of being crazy. Fronting is what allows you to hold down a job and maintain relationships with people, it’s the thing that sometimes keeps you from falling apart. It’s the thing that allows you to have a burst of tears in the shower or behind the front seat of your car and then coolly collect yourself and stroll into a social engagement… We are rewarded for hiding ourselves. We become the poster children for “productive” mentally ill people, because we are so organized and together. The fact that we can function, at great cost to ourselves, is used to beat up the people who cannot function. Because unlike the people who cannot front, or who fronted too hard and fell off the cliff, we are able to “keep it together,” whatever it takes.”