Haze by Andrea Wolfe (best motivational books for students txt) 📕

storms, especially when I was alone. And tonight, I was more alone—and vulnerable—than usual.

Cash exchanged with the clerk, I grabbed my bag of ice cream and made a mad dash for the sidewalk. As soon as I pushed through the double doors, I was greeted by a gust of wind that almost swept me off my feet. Yeah, just like Jack had...

A droplet of rain hit my scalp as I pushed onward. It wasn't that far of a walk. I'd be okay, I'd be—

Boom! Another blast of thunder shook my whole body and terror pulsed in my veins. The raw, un-muffled sound was nearly too much to handle.

The next time I felt moisture, it was the beginning of a torrential downpour. In mere seconds, the storm had fully come to life, snarling and growling and making an instant mess of things. Lightning crawled across the sky in bright, random, branch-like patterns. Unforgiving gusts of wind sent gallons of water onto my body. Shivers broke loose inside of me as tears spilled from my eyes. In too many ways, this felt like a warzone.

"Dammit!" I screamed out at a force I had no control over. I trudged through puddles that were forming rapidly. The harder I ran, the more I splashed myself. This was unusually strong rain. It felt like I had accidentally stumbled into New Orleans during Hurricane Katrina. I couldn't even hide under awnings since the moisture was flying horizontally in sheets.

I couldn't control the choked sobs that kept escaping from my lips. With how soaked my shirt was, it didn't even make sense to wipe my eyes. When I realized I had accidentally walked a block in the wrong direction, it made me cry even more. I had walked outside and immediately followed the direction of the wind without thinking.

I kept my purse tightly under my arm, aggressively shielding it from the rain.

The storm felt like my life—and at that moment, it was my life.

I wanted to control every part of it, yet moments like these arose and I couldn't do a damn thing about them. No, I couldn't just disappear and wind up safe and warm inside my bedroom, escaping the raging weather. I hated that fact more than anything.

I wanted good things to happen at all times, but they didn't. I wanted to make the right decision each and every time, but usually I didn't. Whether my assessment was right or wrong, it sure felt spot-on in that moment.

And when my choices were made and I had to live with them, I drowned in what was left, a figurative, self-imposed sea of misery. I had hurt myself, and more importantly, I had hurt others.

Was the storm even real? Had I just invented it in my mind to illustrate a point? To highlight my mistake with Jack? Additional rain blasted me in the face, and I was sure it wasn't just my imagination. An ice cream vice had led me to this extreme discomfort, this raging and relentless force of nature.

I realized it was actually kind of stupid to blame it on the ice cream. It was me, fleeing from a uncomfortable situation, that's all. And no, it wasn't Jesse's fault either. He had a life of his own, one that I never should have been jealous of.

My phone kept ringing in my purse, but I wasn't about to take the call and potentially inflict the poor thing with serious water damage. Even though I was a mess, I wasn't about to do my phone in, too. Limiting casualties seemed like the best option for sure.

But what if it's Jack?

Why did I even care? I was still a block away from home, sobbing and soaked. The few remaining people on the streets looked at me with judgmental eyes, as if I was a leper.

Just another drunk college girl, they probably thought. I gulped down the realization as soon as it arose.

I was so close now, another half block between me and relief. It was the shortest distance I'd ever struggled to cover in my life. The wind continued to battle me relentlessly. It just wouldn't give up for anything—and neither would I.

Arriving at my stoop—the cement looked cold and wet, but then again, so was I—I gently collapsed onto the steps and sat, numbing myself to everything. Had that really just happened? Raindrops continued to patter against my plastic bag while the wind howled.

Not ten minutes ago, I was eating pizza and drinking wine in the apartment. I was running into Sam by surprise. I was dry as I bought sugary dessert.

That wasn't me anymore. I had sobered up some, but yeah, I was still drunk. I was wet and miserable. I don't know why I continued to sit there, but I did. And then, the storm left just as quickly as it arrived, and I started laughing like a crazy person.

Another tenant in my building opened the door behind me right after the madness concluded, and walked out onto the steps. He was an older man, a nice guy I'd noticed in passing a number of times but never spoken to. He always waved and smiled at me, though.

"What the hell is a girl like you doing out here?"

I turned and looked up at him—he had styled the very few white hairs left on his head and was wearing a nice polo shirt and pair of slacks. His shiny shoes were as reflective as a mirror and his weight rested on a cane. His obvious optimism felt more powerful than the remains of the storm—and it was kind of contagious.

"I don't know," I said. "I wanted ice cream and I got this instead." I lifted my soaking wet dress up and rang some water out. It spilled down the smooth surface of the steps and joined another puddle at the bottom.

"Serves you right for going out during a storm." He let out a booming laugh that softened me immediately, despite the fact that he had just