I miss you so much it hurts.
The hot water rushed over my pink skin while steam floated out over the curtain. I stood, holding myself, letting the water run over my body for a few moments before mustering up the courage to step onto the cold tile floor.
Without even drying myself, I tossed my hair up in one towel and then wrapped another around my dripping body. Looking in the mirror over my sink, I was disgusted at the black, puffy circles around my eyes and how hollow my cheekbones were.
Skulking back into my room, shuffling my feet along my fluffy carpet, I grabbed my makeup and turned on my flat iron. I sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the closet door mirror and began to apply eyeliner.
This had become a habit from the first time I’d slept over at Randy's room in the fraternity house. I would always take my shower first, and while I got ready, Randy would wash up. The only place for me to be able to do my primping had been on his floor, sitting Indian-style in front of a full-length mirror propped up against the wall. Randy had bought for me after I’d complained about not being able to do makeup in a fogged-up mirror.
Once my eyes were just the perfect blend of smoky gray and black, my natural curls burned into submission, I took one last look at myself in the mirror, again disgusted with my appearance. I still felt like an empty shell. It was terrible to see on my face. The lack of sleep, improper nutrition, and guilt had started to take a noticeable toll. I grabbed my blush and bronzer, blending my cheeks more to hide my uncharacteristically pale skin. One last look in the mirror, I closed my makeup kit. This is going to have to do. Makeup can only hide so much.
I rummaged through my closet, trying to find something to wear. All the way in the back, I found a dress that still had the tags on it from right after Randy had been deployed. I’d had a lot of free time back then, and I usually filled the void with shopping with Cali, mostly for things I had yet to wear. I yanked the dress off the hanger, slipped it over my head, and pulled on a pair of wedges. Good enough.
I sighed and trudged down the stairs to the freezer, taking my black-labeled savior out of his icy home. I was going to need all the help possible to put on a brave, put-together face, and whiskey was my known choice for liquid courage. Here goes nothing. I took one big, deep breath and headed out my front door.
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Crashing Back Down (Crashing #1)
Special Thanks
To my amazing readers: You all are what keep me going. Your unbelievable support and encouragement are instrumental in my creative process and I do not know what I would do without each and every one of you!
Author BFFs: Y’all know who you are and you are all my heroes! Thank you for keeping my head on straight and reminding me why I am an author. Without each and every one of you ladies, I don’t know if I would still be doing what I love and for that I am eternally thankful!
C. Marie: I really hope you know how much I have grown to admire and respect how much better you make my writing. You’re guidance helps make my books the best they can be and I don’t think you will ever know how much that means to me. You take the coal I give you and polish into the diamond that it deserves to be.
Brittainy C. Cherry: You’re a rock star and an ever present light of inspiration for me. I don’t know what I would do without your help, support and friendship! You really are one of the best friends I have ever had and I am so thankful that this crazy book world has brought us together! You’re talented beyond words and the sweetest person ever!
Note From the Author
Thank you for buying my novel. In doing so, you have helped fulfill a very important goal of mine. From every purchase of any of my books, I donate to the Marcie Mazzola Foundation. The mission of the foundation is to "help better the lives of abused and at-risk children, and to build community awareness regarding the needs of children."
The Marcie Mazzola Foundation was established in 2003 by my family. On July 6, 2002, Marcie died tragically in an automobile accident. Although she was only 21 at the time of her death, Marcie had experienced many things and touched many lives. She was a beautiful young woman whose inner beauty surpassed even her physical beauty because of her compassionate nature and treatment of others.
At the time of her death, Marcie was involved in a civil lawsuit against a school bus driver who had sexually abused her when she was 11 years old. Prior to her death, it had been expected that the case would be won, but since Marcie could no longer testify, it was going to be next to impossible to win. Marcie’s attorney met with her family to determine if the suit should be continued. He advised the family that Marcie had confided in him her intention to donate her entire award to help sexually and physically abused children if she won the case. Once this was known, the family had no doubt that the suit had to continue.
The attorney’s strong commitment to Marcie prompted him to proceed with the case, and against all odds, it was won. Marcie’s estate was awarded a monetary settlement. With her attorney’s guidance and continued support, the family established a foundation as a tribute to Marcie’s life, which would continue her legacy to help children.
To learn more about The Marcie Mazzola Foundation, please visit: http://www.marciemazzolafoundation.org
Marcie Mazzola Foundation
158 Burr Road, Commack, NY 11725
phone: 631-858-1855 • fax: 631-462-8544
email: [email protected]
The Author
Hi! I am just an average twenty-something following my dreams. I have a full time "day job" and by night I am an author. I guess you could say that writing is like my super power (I always wanted one of those). I am a lover of wine, sushi, football, and the ocean—that is, when I am not wrapped up in the literary world.
Please feel free to contact me to chat about my writing, books you think I'd like, or just to shoot the, well you know.
Stay Connected:
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Email: [email protected]
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