Oreos for Breakfast: Chapter 28

Oreos For Breakfast: Chapter 35
By the Paperbag Princess and Pumpkin Coach

I'd gotten a cup of coffee, then escaped back to our bedroom with the paper. I didn't want to listen to Ben's friends talk about their skiing plans for the day. They'd already asked me how I was feeling and I'd told them not up to skiing and then they ignored me.

Maybe I could convince Ben to go to a movie today. Yesterday had been nice, lying around with him in the afternoon. He'd gone out skiing in the morning, because I'd told him I didn't want him to stay home with me, but he'd come back around lunchtime.

Maybe we could do the same thing today, only to the movies in the afternoon. I could stand to get out of the house. Especially before the New Year's Eve party they were planning. There was going to be drinking and dancing and a catered dinner and I hoped I wouldn't fall asleep before midnight.

I flipped the page of the paper. We'd talk about it when he got out of the shower. In the meantime, I'd read the gossip page. Michael Jackson's Christmas party, Paris Hilton with…

Oh, my god. It couldn't be. That was not my Nick holding her hand in that shot.

Picking up the paper, I held it closer, examining it. Nick and Paris in one shot, walking down a street and holding hands. A blond boy kissing her in the next one. Shit, it was the same shirt.

That was Nick. My Nick. Kissing Paris fucking Hilton.

He used to kiss me like that. He'd lean into me like that, cupping my face in his hands like he couldn't get enough of me. He used to hold my hand walking down the street.

Now it was her? Paris goddamned fucking Hilton? Famous for nothing more than having a fucking lot of money and being blond? He left me for that?

It was one thing when he'd been with her right after we'd broken up, but this… this looked real. Like he actually liked her or something.

The paper trembled in my hands and I tossed it down. Who could I call? AJ would know. How long had this been going on? I'd talked to AJ the day after Christmas and he hadn't said a word. And James… if this picture was in a paper, there had to be dozens on line.

The phone was in my hand when Ben called to me from the bathroom. I hadn't even heard the shower stop. "Rachel, the shower's free!"

Fuck.

I looked around the room, suddenly aware of what I was doing. I was insane with jealousy because Nick hooked up with Paris fucking Hilton. Hell, it was probably one night, and they just got caught by a photographer.

Meanwhile, I was with the guy I'd been dating for weeks. He was the opposite of Nick- mature, stable, smart, and he adored me.

Yeah, but Ben could kiss Paris Hilton and I wouldn't care.

He came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his hips, drying his hair. "I was thinking in the shower. Why don't we let the snow bunnies get in the last run of the year and we'll go off to the movies or something? Weren't you saying you wanted to see the new Lord of the Rings? That's a good three hours to ourselves."

When I didn't answer, he dropped the towel he was using on his hair and looked at me. He took it all in, the newspaper open in front of me, the look on my face, then I lost him in a blur of tears.

"Shit," I heard him whisper.

"Ben-" I started, but then my voice broke. I was such a bitch. Ten more minutes, five, and I would have been sane again, and it would have been okay.

He came over to me, looking at the paper. "I assume that's your Nick, kissing Paris."

"Not mine anymore."

But I love him anyway. Damnit. It had been months since I'd seen Nick. Why did this still hurt so much?

We were quiet for a moment, then I stood up. "I'm sorry. I've got to go home now."

I didn't even know that's what I was going to say until the words were out of my mouth. Ben didn't expect it, either.

"No, Rache, stay. We'll leave tomorrow. We can still-"

James. I had to see James. I could not be here in this strange place, with people I barely knew, who were obsessed with a sport I hated, for one more second.

Cutting off Ben's protests, I stood up, finding my suitcase. "No, Ben, really. I've got to leave. It's not-"

"What are you going to do? Fly to LA and try to talk him out of it? Why the fuck do you want that immature little boy, anyway?"

I just blinked at him for a minute. LA? James wasn't in LA.

"Ben, no. I'm not going to find Nick. I just… this is really unfair to you. I'm so sorry. But I can't be here any longer. I need…"

I wasn't sure what I needed. Not this. Not another relationship when I needed to be getting over my last one. Ben stood there, glaring at me, and I bit back my tears. He'd been glaring at me a lot this week.

"This isn't you, Ben, it's-"

"You're right, Rachel. It's you. Pack." Grabbing some clothes, he stormed out of the room.

That was great. Great start to the new year. Yeah.

I looked around the room, considering my next step. If I left, was that it for me and Ben? I liked Ben.

But I didn't love him. I just… didn't. He was everything I needed, but I didn't want him. I wanted Nick. I wanted the passion and the drama and the thrill of being with him. I didn't have any of that with Ben. We had fun together, but no drama or passion.

I wanted to go home. It was a mistake, coming here. I should have stayed with my family for a few more days and then spent New Year's with my band. I should not have spent the holidays with Ben's friends. I didn't really like Ben's friends.

I could leave now. No more strained small talk. No more pretending to like skiing. No more answering questions about which celebrities I knew. I could go home and be with my friends for New Year's.

Suddenly I couldn't wait to get out of here. I could hear everyone getting ready to leave for the day, so I got in the shower. I didn't want to have to say goodbye to anyone. Ben could explain. He could make me out to be the bad guy, or just say I went home because I wasn't feeling well. Whatever. They were his friends. He could figure it out.

I was packing, dressed in sweats, when the door to our room opened. "Rachel?" Ben asked, and I looked up.

"I thought you left with the others."

"No. I couldn't… you… I'm sorry for freaking out."

I tucked my last sweater into my suitcase and looked at him, shaking my head. "I think I'm the one that freaked out."

"I'd freak out, too, if I saw one of my exes kissing Paris Hilton."

"I'm sure you would," I joked, and he smiled, sitting on the bed and holding out a hand to me.

"Alright, if I saw one of my exes kissing Nick Carter."

"Not that you knew who he was a month ago," I said, taking his hand and sitting next to him on the bed.

"No, but… I'm sorry. That was a stupid fight. Please don't go."

"Okay, I-"

I stopped myself, shaking my head. "Sorry. No. I'm going."

He looked disappointed. "What does that mean?" he asked quietly.

I knew what he was asking, but I wasn't sure how to answer it. I'd never broken up with someone when there wasn't really anything wrong. All my breakups had involved screaming and crying and throwing things.

Yeah, I was all about the drama.

"It means… I'm really sorry, Ben. I really, really am. You are everything I need and always thought I wanted."

"But you don't really want me."

I shrugged, helpless. "I don't not want you. I had a great December with you. You showed me things in New York I've never seen and I loved every minute I spent with you."

"But you don't love me."

"You don't love me, either." I went on, seeing the look in his eyes. "You don't even know me, Ben. I tried so hard to be good for you that you don't really know me. The other day, when I had that accident and was a total bitch to you? That was more the real me."

"You were hurt. I understand that you were bitchy."

I snickered. "I don't need real excuses to be a bitch. Jeremy calls me a diva princess and he's right. I thrive on the drama."

"I'm not very dramatic."

"And that's amazing. I'm glad you're not. Your life will probably be much better for it."

"I could learn to be dramatic."

I smiled. "Please don't. You are going to find a nice Jewish girl and settle down and have beautiful babies. I'm going to be a tortured musician who can never find happiness."

He kissed me. "You will find happiness," he promised, and I smiled at him.

"Maybe. I don't know. I might be looking for it a little too hard. I think I need to be single for a while and figure out what I want."

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