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She had allowed herself one day of mourning, before she had decided to get up and move on; not from Bill, she didn’t think that was possible, but from the hurt he had caused her. She had shown up at her old dorm room, eyes blood shot and May had let her in, not asking any questions, but comforting her and letting her go back to her own bed. May had been a good friend and had let Hillary cry, stroking her hair. In that one day of mourning, she allowed herself to feel his betrayal fully. It had hurt more than words could explain and she hadn’t been able to get any sleep that night even with May being in the same bed and stroking her hair as she cried. She had felt broken and every time she closed her eyes he had been there. She had missed him terribly and had clung to her pillow simply for something to hold onto. Still, even then in the midst of her brokenness she had known that she would have to keep going. So after a night and day of crying, she was back; trying to move forward one step at a time.
Now, she dressed methodically and walked with May to class.
That in itself was difficult as well.
The sky was just the exact color of his eyes. His. She didn’t dare think his name, it would make the pain too personal and too fresh. Still, she was a fighter she always had been, and if there was one thing she knew about life was that it went on; so she would go on with it. So she held her head higher and continued to walk to her class. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t looking for him at every turn, but he wasn’t there; he seemed to have vanished. She was surprised that she felt a wave of disappointment when she didn’t see him waiting outside the door of her class for her. She knew she shouldn’t want these things or entertain these fantasies, but her feelings for him had been real and they didn’t seem to want to leave no matter how much she tried to will them away.
“Are you gonna be okay? I’ll be here when you’re done and we can go to the library together,” May said kindly. Hillary was now more grateful for her friendship than ever. May had accepted her with open arms and hadn’t been angry or smug or any of the sort about being right.
“Not the library. Isn’t there somewhere else we can hang out until our second class?” She asked. She never wanted to step foot in that library again. That had been where they had first interacted. Now it made sense to her why he had approached her so randomly and rudely, he had been trying to fulfill a bet and she had simply been his ploy. Yet, she still couldn’t bring herself to believe that everything they had been through was a lie. She was certain about the fact that he was no good for her, at least not right now.
“Well there’s this room I usually go in with the student council people. We can go there,” May answered. Hillary nodded, trying to fake enthusiasm.
“Yes. Let’s go there, I’ll see you after class okay?” she said and entered the room. As always she had arrived somewhat early and class hadn’t officially started yet. Now she was getting stares from all over, she noticed. She felt everyone’s eyes on her and she knew she wasn’t imagining it, these people made no effort to hide their staring. It was different than before, at first she had gotten annoyed smirks that she was used to. No, these were strange. The guys in class were looking at her in admiration and the girls gave her looks of jealously mixed with wonder. She took her seat, trying to convince herself it was all in her head.
That didn’t last long.
A guy behind her began to hoot.
“Damn, Hillary. I never noticed how pretty you were until those photos went around,” he shouted. She felt her face flush. Photos? She turned around, the guy was a random redhead she had never spoke to before. In fact, she hadn’t spoken to anyone in this class besides Scott. Scott. She scanned the room for him now. There he was slumped in the corner. He seemed to be trying to avoid her gaze.
“What pictures?” she asked even though she felt scared about knowing the answer. The guy didn’t seem to hesitate or be fearful at all.
“The photos Clinton gave Packer. They looked great. I’m glad copies were made,” the guy said and handed her the photo printed copies. Again, she felt the wind go out of her.
They were the pictures he had taken of her. The pictures at the water fountain, in Arkansas, in those places he had taken her to visit, and one of her lying down on her stomach her back naked and exposed; that one had been taken after they made love. She felt herself fill with rage and she knew this much rage usually came after being hurt. She shot Scott a look, but he didn’t react, he only looked back. She then turned around and shoved the photo copies into her back pack, not caring what the guy thought or said.
She rubbed her eyes and closed her temples as class started. For a moment, she began to think that she should transfer law schools or just drop out of law school entirely. That was only entertained for a moment. She had never been one to run from her problems and dropping out of law school wasn’t an option either; come hell or high water she was going to become a lawyer.
So instead, she thought of what she could do, and how she could cope.
First, there were these pictures. Had he really given them to Packer? She couldn’t bring herself to believe that was true. He wouldn’t, would he? Just a few days ago she would have said that he would never lie to her, and that had turned out terribly. Her best course of action was to just be on her guard, and to stay away from him as much as possible.
Now on the matter of these pictures, she didn’t know what they meant, or how much people knew about what had happened between her and..him.
Did they know she lost her virginity to him? Did they care? After all, this was law school and many of these people had most likely lost their own or just didn’t care.
Now her course of action.
These pictures, they wouldn’t define her. Besides the one of her after they had made love, the others weren’t as bad and were modest. She would ignore this and pay it no mind; better to not add fuel to the fire. She just hoped everyone else would leave her alone. Let them make fun of me, call me names, and everything else behind my back; but as long as they don’t get confrontational with me, I’ll be fine, she thought. She could handle people talking behind her back, but she just didn’t want anyone coming up to her directly and getting in her face.
As for now, she opened her notebooks to take notes on the lecture. She tried to ignore all the impending thoughts of him that threatened to break though.

 

The first night without her had been agonizing. Staying in that house, surrounded by everything where they had made memories. He hadn’t been able sleep in their bed, the bed where they had laughed, told stories, and at the end made love. He hadn’t been able to go to the kitchen where she had cooked for him, and sat on his lap. The sandwiches she had made were still there, he hadn’t been able to put them in the fridge or eat them. He hadn’t wanted to move anything for fear that his mind would forget what it was like when she had been here. As for eating, he hadn’t been able to eat; the thought of food just had made him sick.
So he had stayed in the living room, on the floor with his knees buckled into his chest. He hadn’t been able to sleep, he had been right; attempting to sleep without her head on his chest was a failed endeavor. So he had stayed there the whole night, staring at the wall until eventually he would break down and cry again. He had cried so much to the point where he had thought he hadn’t been able to cry anymore; then her eyes would start swimming in his mind and the tears came on again. He had never imagined that much hurt, and he knew the hurt wasn’t mostly his. It was hers. The fact that she had been in pain had been what had set him over the edge. When he had seen her beautiful clear eyes fill with tears, tears that she had been fighting to keep back; he had lost it and something had broken within him. At the sight of her pain and tears, he had wanted to find the person responsible and make them pay, bring them to their knees.
The worst part of it all was that, that person was him. Him.

The person who had told her he loved her and who was supposed to be her protector and guider had failed her. He hated himself for that. He hated that she had felt the need to get away from him. So between all off his pain mixed with hers, he was still lying on the floor in the same position. it didn’t matter that classes started again. It didn’t matter that he had work today.
None of it mattered.
Not without her.
Because she had been the color of his life, and without her everything was black and white again. Unreal.
He could hear her voice in his head, that was the most agonizing part. The voice would say things that she would say if she saw him now, like, ‘You should eat, Billy. ‘ “Go to class, Bill.’ ‘Take a shower you’ll feel better.’
He knew he should do these things, but he just didn’t have any motivation to do so. He knew maybe that his behavior would be considered unhealthy by some people, but fuck that he was shattered and heartbroken and he no inclination to pretend he wasn’t.
So the world could freeze over for all he cared; What was the world without her?
It was nothing, because she was the world.
Her laughter was the laughter of millions, and the joy of children. Her eyes reflected the hope that everyone in the world held on to. Her voice was the fucking music of the world itself, each syllable a genre. When she would giggle it was jazz, when she was nervous she was a vibrato, shaking and held in different chords.
Then there was her body.
Her body moved like the wheatgrass back in Arkansas, swaying gently from side to side. She was all the seasons; cozy like winter, beautiful like Autumn, blooming like spring, and adventurous like summer.
She was literature itself. She was the heroine of romantic literature, the character that people could relate to and root for. She was the turning of fresh book pages, her small fingers eager to learn more.
Even art itself wasn’t free of her.
She was Mona Lisa, taut and strong; eyes always in thought.
She was The Persistence of Memory, always doing the most with the time she had.
She was The Birth of Venus, standing out of a shell to bless the world with her beauty.
And fuck, she even infiltrated math as well!
He couldn’t bare to count because each number brought him some memory of her.
1. She was his one and only.
2. They had made love two times.
3. Three. She had eaten three strawberries on their last morning together.
And Fuck the list could go on to way past one hundred he was sure. She was in everything and anything and he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t escape her. She was apart of him. Even his own body felt incomplete and disoriented without her. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to fight for her, bring her back to him and end this sea of madness, but he also didn’t want to force her to do anything. She had after all, left for a reason. Would she even want him anymore? Did she hate him? Fuck, he wouldn’t be able to take it if she did.
His whole body ached for her. He longed to turn and look next to him and see her there, but she wasn’t and that hurt most of all. She wasn’t just away at work or in class, she was gone and she wasn’t coming back.
And that in itself was agonizing.

 

 

“This is Hillary Rodham, she’ll be joining us today,” May introduced her to the group as they entered the room. Hillary was glad that the room was private and only three members of student council, excluding May, were there. Two of them were boys and one a girl. She was glad to see that the boys didn’t oggle at her the way the rest of the student body had. The girl didn’t stare either.
As a matter of fact they just smiled politely .
“Hello,” she said feeling a bit awkward after May’s introduction. The three nodded in acknowledgement.
“Hillary. This is Lola, Peter, and Dig. Dig won’t tell us his real name out of embarrassment,” May said waving to each as she introduced them.
Lola was different. She had multi colored blue and purple hair but dressed preppy, Hillary had never seen anyone like her. Peter was tall, and had pale blonde hair that he put in a ponytail, he dressed casually in a maroon hoodie. Dig was a handsome African American boy who was taller than the other two and dressed nicely in a flannel.
Hillary liked them already, they seemed unique.
“It’s nice to meet you all,” she said. They nodded. The boy named Dig came up to her and shook her hand.
“It’s nice to meet you as well. May here has told us so much about you, and we hope you would consider joining student council,” he said. That surprised her a bit. Back in her old high school student council had been over run by the popular kids and anyone who wasn’t in their group had no chance of getting elected. She thought maybe it would be nice to join this student council. She had after all been impressed with the carnival they had put together. She needed to make friends anyways; she needed to go out and live to get her mind off this pain.
“I would love to join, if you guys are willing to have me,” she answered. Lola nodded excitedly. “We would. We need more members it’s only the five of us right now, and you would our lucky six,” she said.
“Five?” Hillary asked, she only counted four.
“Chris is in student council too,” May answered.
As if on cue, in came Chris.
“Speak of the devil,” Peter joked and the three new people she had just met snickered.
“They are always so affectionate with each other it makes me gag,” Lola joked. They were. As soon as Chris walked in, he hugged May tightly and kissed her forehead. Hillary had to turn away discreetly and focused instead on Lola’s preppy blue and gray tie. She was happy for May, truly; it was nice that her friend had someone who cared about her. Yet, she still found herself unable to watch as it reminded her too much of the person she had lost. Again, she felt that pang of pain that would keep coming into her heart when anything reminded her of him. Even Lola’s tie began to remind her of him and she had to look elsewhere, at the back wall.
“So Hillary what we usually do is study or if you want you can help us plan the upcoming tree lighting festival,” May told her. That sounded fun, it sounded like something she could enjoy. “Yeah, I would like to help with that,” she replied.
“I’ll go get the things from across the hall,” May said. Chris offered to help, but Lola intervened. “Oh no, i remember what happened last time, and trust me we do not need another porno,” Lola said laughing as she took Chris’s spot as helper. With the two out of the room, Chris and Dig started up a conversation about a class they both had. So she and Peter were left to their own devices. She looked at Peter closer now. She noticed that he had a rose tattoo on his arm, slightly visible from under his hoodie sleeve. He was gazing back at her and she noticed that he had green eyes. He wasn’t bad looking, she supposed he could be handsome. Only supposed. After B-..him she was sure she would never find another man attractive again. Peter came up to her as if to say something.
“Hey Hillary. I just wanted to let you know that I know about what you’ve been going through and I want you to know that if you need a s shoulder to cry on or need me to beat up any jerks I’m there. You seem like a very nice girl and I’m looking forward to being friends,” he said. His voice seemed genuine and he didn’t seem to be throwing himself at her or wanting more than friendship. She liked that.
“Thank you, I’m looking forward to being friends too,” she said. Then May and Lola came in with a mini model of a tree with a box of other knick knacks, and for a moment she forgot her pain and everything seemed alright.

 

“That was fun,” Hillary said to May as they ate pieces of a sandwich they had decided to share in the student quad outside. It had been fun. She had learned more about her new companions and she had helped loads with the tree lighting festival. For instance, she learned that Lola had originally planned on going into the medical field, but her fear of blood had prevented her. She had also discovered that Peter was a master archer and that Dig excelled in mathematics.
“Yeah, I’m glad you liked it. You really did help us out of that rut though,” May said. She was referring to the fact that the five of them had previously been wondering where to have the tree lighting. Hillary had suggested that they have it right here in the student quad, and although to her it seemed like a simple idea; her newfound friends had liked it. She had been able to collaborate and work, and it was just what she needed: a purpose. She always did well when she had a purpose. In fact, now that they had finished with classes for the day she would be going back to work; another one of her great purposes.
“I’m glad I could help,” she said. Then a thought occurred to her as she realized now that she was making new friends and memories: she had forgotten her scrapbooks back at the house. The scrapbooks of her high school years. She wanted them back but she didn’t want to step foot in that house again for fear she may never leave.
“May,” she said hesitantly, “Can I ask you to do a big favor for me?” She felt guilty enough asking as it was. May had already done so much for her and she felt terrible about asking for anything more, even something as small as this.
“Yes anything,” May replied, not missing a beat. She decided just to bite the bullet and ask without beating around the bush.
“I left some scrapbooks of my high school years back at the house. Do you think you could go get them for me while I’m at work. I have a key for you to get in,” she said. The key was still in her pocket out of habit and it felt heavy; almost like an anchor holding her down.
“Of course. I’ll get them while you’re at work. But Hillary..” her voice trailed off this time it was her turn to hesitate.
“Yeah?” Hillary asked swallowing a bit. What was her friend going to tell her? You’re asking too much Hillary, why would you make me go there, Hillary, were all thoughts that came into her mind. May however asked nothing of the sort.
“What should I do if Bill is there and if he asks about you” May asked. She flinched a bit at his name. That name that just the night before she had been moaning in pleasure. Thoughts of his touch came to her, breaking through the walls she was trying to keep up. It was so ridiculous. And it was even more ridiculous that his name still made her heart soar as well even though he had hurt her.
“He won’t hurt you so don’t worry if he’s there. If he asks about me just say I’m fine,” she replied. She most definitely wasn’t fine, but she couldn’t think of anything else. It was better for him not to worry; if in fact he still worried about her at all.
“Alright, Hillary. I’ll go,” May said, always the good friend. Hillary dug the key from the house out and gave it to her. She then finished her sandwich, soon she would have to go to work.

 

When he heard the door unlock he thought that maybe it was her. For the first time in what felt like forever he got up expecting to go to her, hold her in his arms and tell her how sorry he was. But it wasn’t Hillary.
It was her roommate.
“What are you doing here?” he asked curiously. The girl named May obviously seemed wary of him as she looked around the house as if she were searching for something.
“Hillary sent me to get her scrapbooks. Where are they?” She replied almost coldly. He didn’t care. Hillary had sent her here, for the scrapbooks. Surely she meant the ones of them right? “They are in the bedroom. Here I’ll take you,” he said and led her there. All the scrapbooks were lined up under the bed and he dug them out and tossed them on the top of the bed. May begun to skim through them and he noticed that she only took four.
“What about this one? Didn’t she want this one?” he asked referring to the first scrapbook he and Hillary had put together.
“She only asked for her high school ones. I’m going to go now,” May replied and turned to leave the room. Now it made sense why she had only four scrapbooks. That hurt him.
Hillary didn’t want the ones of him and her, and she didn’t even come back to get what she wanted herself. She hadn’t come back because she didn’t want to see him and that thought crippled him.
“How is she?” he asked May’s retreating figure. Where was his girl? How was she feeling? He needed desperately to know. What he didn’t expect was May’s reaction.
“How do you think? She wanted me to say she was fine, but we both know that’s bullshit! She showed up at our dorm crying and she cried endlessly. She says she’s better now, but I know she’s not. I saw how she flinched when I said your name and she won’t even say your name herself!” May shouted coming to face him toe to toe.
Again his heart was breaking and maybe it was selfish and he hated that he even entertained the idea but for a second he was glad that he wasn’t alone in his hurt. May however, wasn’t through with him yet.
“And then you fucking had to go and give those pictures to Packer! Now the whole student body has seen them! People stare at her now, some in pity, some judgmental and then there’s all those creeps that keep making comments about her! But hey why does that matter to you? You’re here safe in the walls of this house while she’s out there being humiliated because of what you did!” May shouted and he was surprised that someone so little could raise such hell.
He felt himself get more angry at her words, for several reasons. First the fact that her pictures, the private ones meant for him were being seen by everyone made him see red in complete fury. Then the mention of creeps or anyone even looking at her as simply a piece of meat made him want to wring someone’s neck. Anyone’s. He knew the culprit of all this was him, not Scott, Bambi, or Packer; he had been the one who had waited too long and had left her unprotected.
So if fault was to be placed it was to be placed on him and he should start by wringing his own neck, but he couldn’t face that fact. Like many times before in his life he went back on the defensive, defaulting to anger.
“I did not give Packer those photos. They were stolen from me, because they were in my wallet and Bambi stole my wallet and gave it to Packer. And why does it matter to me? It fucking matters to me because I love her! You say i’m safe in the walls of this house? I’m not! Everything here reminds me of her and it hurts! I’m moving back into my dorm because I can’t deal with it! Not like that’ll help much because I’m not even safe in my own mind! You don’t know how often I’ve wanted to take a drill to my head just so I can stop thinking of her! So don’t tell me that I don’t care because I do and I always will.”
After that they were silent for a few moments. He had heard it in his voice, the brokenness. The old Bill would have hated to hear himself sound so broken, but not anymore. He was human and he didn’t care who saw his venerability at the moment because nothing mattered to him other than her.
“I should go,” May said simply and softly. She was clutching the yearbooks tightly so much that her knuckles were white.
“Wait. Tell Hillary I love her,” he said as she left the room. He didn’t get a response, he hadn’t expected one, and a second later he heard the door lock once again.

 

Work had been great, the children’s energy was refreshing.
What wasn’t great is that some of them had asked about him. She had simply brushed it off and ignored them but it was Cody who had put her on the spot, not giving her the chance to ignore him.
“Where is Bill?” Cody had asked. Again, his name had so many affects on her and she had tried to contain them.
“He’s gone,” she had replied and tried to leave it that, but she hadn’t been able to get off that easy.
“What do you mean gone? Like on a vacation?” Cody had probed further.
“Something like that,” she had answered. If only.
“I’ll miss him,” Cody muttered before going back to what he was doing. I’ll miss him too, she thought. That had remained on her mind for the remainder of her work day, dampening her spirits a bit. Just a bit, the children always uplifted her.
Now, as she entered her dorm room, she saw that her scrapbooks were on her bed.
“Thank you May, I appreciate this,” she told her roommate who was reading a book on her own bed.
“You’re welcome,” she answered simply. She touched the spine of one of the books and as she opened the pages she snapped them shut again. Even this book smelled like him now.
Him.
How had he reacted when he May had been there? She was dying to know. Yet, she knew she shouldn’t ask. She should be a good girl and just go to bed or do school work. Somehow she felt that she would never be able to go back to that good girl she had once been.
“How was he?” she said so faintly that she was certain May didn’t hear her, but her room mate had.
“Hillary I really don’t think we should talk about this,” May said sadly. That was strange. Yet in a way, she understood. May had told her before that she didn’t want to talk about Him because he had been the topic of their first fight, but this seemed different.
“May please I need to know,” she said. She hated the desperation in her voice, but she craved to know, yearned for it, and needed it.
“He asked about you. I told him how you wanted me to say you were fine. I’m sorry Hillary but I gave him a piece of my mind. I told him how he had hurt you and about how he was cruel for giving Packer those pictures,” May confessed.
Hillary wasn’t mad at her room mate. In a sadistic way it made her glad knowing that he knew how much she had been hurting; she supposed humans were strange that way.
“How was he?” She repeated this time putting more heart and emphasis into her question. May seemed upset, a strange upset.
“He’s not well. He looked pale and I don’t think he’s slept. He got defensive and told me he was hurting too. He said he was moving back into his dorm because he couldn’t stand to be in the house and be reminded of you. He said that Bambi stole his wallet and gave Packer the pictures. He scared me a bit because he said he wanted to put a drill in his head so he could stop thinking about you,” May said.
Now Hillary understood her behavior. She had seen that behavior in her anatomy classes when they would cut open a lifeless animal. It was the behavior of pity,; the behavior of pitying a dead animal.
In this case he was the dead animal being pitied.
Had he really been this terrible? The part about the drill scared her as well, because despite everything if he hurt himself she wouldn’t be able to stomach that. Then there was the part about Bambi stealing his wallet. Was it possible? She hadn’t really given him a chance to explain. Maybe she should. Maybe she should go to him, and comfort him. Maybe they could hold each other like they had before when he had confessed his past to her.
She knew it was illogical, but they were after all an illogical pair.
“I’m going to see him,” she said. May tried to protest but stopped when Hillary asked her to. She would go to him.
So she had changed into the pink sweater he liked and had bought of her and she walked to the boy’s dorm. She knew that it might not look well for her to be here, especially after the pictures had gotten around, but at the moment she didn’t care. Nothing was going to keep her from going to see him, to comfort him, and to make sure he didn’t put a drill into his head. She found his dorm room and opened the door expecting that everything would be okay.
But it wasn’t.
Instead, she saw him sitting shirtless on his bed while Bambi sat on the floor wearing only his shirt.

 

When he saw her he thought he was dreaming, already he had pictured her everywhere today to find that he was only hallucinating. He found this to be the real Hillary when he saw her face shatter in despair and her eyes well up in tears. He knew why, and he knew what it seemed like to her, but he hadn’t done anything with Bambi! But he would get to that later, his priority right now was her. He ran after her as she spun on her heel and stormed off.
“Wait! Don’t go! It’s not what you think, it’s not what it seems like!” He said grabbing her by the wrist. Again. her eyes were filled with tears but this time they were tears of rage.
“It’s never what it looks like with you is it? There’s always an excuse! I came here because May told me how you were upset and fuck I was so stupid, for a second I believed her,” she said angrily as tears rolled down her cheeks. He tightened his hold on her, he wasn’t letting her go now thinking that something had happened between him and Bambi.
“I was and I am! Bambi came to bother me, I told her to fuck off. She didn’t want to leave and kept bitching about wanting to wear my shirt so I let her,” he said. That in itself was the truth, but even to him it sounded like a lie. It wasn’t, it truly wasn’t but he knew she wouldn’t believe him. It killed him that now that he was telling her the truth and she didn’t believe it. He supposed it was karma.
“You expect me to believe that? So what was all this talk about putting a drill to your head? You had me worried sick that you would hurt yourself but you wanna know something now, Clinton?’ She asked angrily trying to release herself from his grasp.
“Go on,” he said as he knew she was waiting for him to say something. He hated seeing the pain in her eyes, the betrayal, and something new something he couldn’t place.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about you anymore! All you do is hurt me! If i had a drill myself I would use it to drill into your heart the way you did into mine! I hate you and I never want to see you again!” She shouted and this time she kicked him so she was out of his grasp and ran out of the dorm, tears still spilling down her cheeks.
Then he was left alone again, because despite being in a full dorm he was always alone without her. It was ironic that she had used her self defense on him and he hated how this had happened. Again, he found himself wishing he could time travel and fix this mess; but time doesn’t care about anything or anyone. Her words had been spears into his heart, or more accurately drills as she had intended.
“Bill?” Bambi asked from inside his room.
He turned around and went back to confront her. Again, anger his default mode.
“Give me my shirt and get the fuck out!” he shouted. “Now!” he added when she stood there stupidly. She flinched and did as he told her, dressing back into her stupid leotard. She exited the room and he vowed that he would never speak to her again, no matter the circumstances. Because if it hadn’t been for her, he would have Hillary right now. Still, he knew it was his fault, he should have thrown her out in the first place when she had come waltzing into his dorm door to gloat about the pictures. The only reason she had known that he had moved back into his dorm was because her father was the dean of student’s and she saw the paperwork. He had been too numb to throw her out, so he had simply stared at the wall while she had talked, hoping that eventually she would get tired and leave. it’s not like he had heard much of what she had said, his mind had been on Hillary, always Hillary. It had only been when she had started harassing him about wearing his shirt that he let her, thinking that anything was better than hearing her prattle on. The worst part was that he knew that Bambi had been about to leave, before Hillary showed up.
But that was no excuse.
He should have thrown the Bimbo out to begin with.
So now, he lay hurting once more. Now he could place that new something in her eyes. It had been a look he had himself many times in his childhood. It was the look of not having anything left to lose, the look where someone was past caring.
She was past caring about him. He sank to his knees and began to curse at whoever or whatever higher power could be listening. “Why did you give her to me just to take her away?” he shouted, but there was no response and he felt emptier than before.

 

She had felt like an idiot, a complete and utter fool. When she arrived back into their dorm May had known something was wrong, and Hillary had told her all of it through angry tears.
Yes angry.
Because that’s what she was. She was mad at the injustice of it all; of the fact that she had done everything for him and was going to go see him to give him another chance only to find him caught up in another lie. She hadn’t meant what she said, and that was the worst part in a way; because she still cared about him.
Still, she cared about herself also, and she would never allow herself to be fooled like that again. No one, drills into my heart but me, she thought. So now as she stared at herself in the mirror she wondered who she was.
She was Hillary Rodham, always.
Yet, she wasn’t the Hillary that had first come to Yale.
She wasn’t Bill’s sweets, his pretty baby, or his silly girl anymore, either.
And yes, now she thought his name, because she would no longer let him have a hold on her. So she continued to stare into the mirror, searching for herself.
“‘’I’ve always found that a makeover can help with breakups, I have some hair dye if you want to use it’ May had told her earlier. She thought about it now, seriously considering it. Maybe it was what she needed, a new start and a new look.
“May,” she called, “get the hair dye.”