"So stupid! What was I thinking, coming here in her place? Oh it's just a vay-cay. Ha! Britney's life sucks! I'm not Britney. I don't do things like this," I mumbled to myself on the way to the elevator.
"Wait, wait, wait!" Will called out to me, managing to jam his hand between the elevator doors at the last second. "We didn't get to have that conversation. What did you want me to know?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
Like I didn't f*****g try. One or both of us inevitably found a reason for that conversation not to happen. Breakfast. Too tired. More s*x. Whispered sweet nothings.
In the end, my Harvard brain started working again and I changed my mind about telling him. I didn't really know what I was thinking, coming here. What good would telling him the truth do? I blame
