She said it staring right at me. She loves him. She loves this kid. Her… her boyfriend. Oh, please, Em, shut the fuck up! You don’t love him! How could you LOVE him!? OVER ME?! We’re childhood sweethearts for crying out loud and right now you’re spurring out shit like you have exploding diarrhea or something! YOU DON’T LOVE HIM!

I wanted to scream that at her and slam my fist through the window but instead I sat there quietly, listening to her words, and trying to contain myself. I will not throw a fit, because I know that if I did she’ll yell at me and never speak to me again and tell her boyfriend what an asshole I am. I want to look like the good guy here—hell, I am the good guy here! But for her to say it so straight faced, as if she actually believes she loves this kid, this New Yorker, who does she thinks she’s kidding? Her dad would kill her if she dated one of those Yankees. Her dad would kill her if she dated, period. But instead, I sat there. She started telling me how they met—at one of her shows in England, he came up to her after and told her she did really well and that she was beautiful. Of course she’s fucking beautiful, she doesn’t need some dude to tell her that. Everyone knows it and so does she.

But then she tells me how he started taking her out, classy dinners, high-end bars, introducing her and networking her to many other people in the business, landing her a few deals in California and some shows in Paris. Fucking ridiculous. She tells me he’s absolutely exquisite, Pat, and that I’ll love him. Trust me, I won’t love any guy you ever talk to, ever. That’s what I want to tell her. I don’t. Instead, I sit there with my mouth fucking shut because if I open it I know I won’t shut up and I’ll say something that will upset her.

Oh, and you know what else, Pat? We went on little weekend trip up to some random bed and breakfast spots in the countryside of England, which were absolutely magnificent. So beautiful. You would’ve loved it, she adds.

Why is she doing this to me? She knows she’s hurting me, I KNOW that she knows she’s hurting me but instead she keeps on ranting her mouth, that beautiful jaw, those beautiful lips, her beautiful smile. At least he makes her happy. Thing is, I want to be the one to make her happy.

As she continues to blabber on about how great Prince Peter is I sort of try to zone myself out to the night before she left, back to last October. The night before she took off for her flight to New York to transfer to LA to go to Australia. She was with all her girlfriends that night at the lake. Some of the kids from the street were there, Zayne was there with some of the boys so I had joined them. I hadn’t realized she was leaving so soon. But she was. And I got scared shitless. I was terrified. I wanted her to stay a little bit longer, we were doing so well… but I knew she couldn’t and I was afraid of her leaving. I had so many feelings for her and I was afraid if she left that she would never know how I felt and I knew that she felt the same. I took her hand that night and I we walked through the trail near the lake, by ourselves. She was a little tipsy and I was completely sober and we laughed as we walked and I told her I’d really miss her and she said that she’d miss me. And I looked at her and I knew I had to kiss her and I did, against a tree and I held her there and she kissed me back and gave me a rueful smile afterward and it made my heart… my heart flutter. I wanted her.

And I told her to not forget about me and I told her to make me proud. I told her I’ll be waiting for her when she got back and goddamit I waited—I saw that she’d read my texts and I knew she wasn’t answering me and I knew something was wrong. And in the summer when Kylie went to see her I gave Kylie a bracelet and a letter to give to her, to Emma. And goddammit I waited for her! I did! We would constantly be messaging each other initially, but soon her messages got shorter until they became nonexistent. I missed her. I needed her. I realized that. I was completely infatuated by a girl who could care less. And it hurt. And it still fucking hurts.

I waited until Kylie returned from California to realize whatever Emma and I had was over, even if it never began. And so I went back to partying, I went back to drinking and getting high and going to raves and eventually started hooking up exclusively with Shannon until Shannon said she wouldn’t have sex with me anymore unless we were together-together and she was my actual titled girlfriend. So I agreed. Whatever. It’s not like the love my life is across the Atlantic anyway.

One day when I was scrolling through my Facebook feed there was such a promiscuous picture of Emma that she had been tagged in. Her long, tan body was draped over a guy’s shoulder, and her mascara was running but she must’ve been laughing because she had a huge, loopy smile on her face, and one of her legs was kicked up in the air and she was barefoot and her arms were flailing and she had her heels in her hands and she was wearing extremely short shorts and a crop top that showed her clearly visible belly ring and beautiful body. Her hair was so long and it looked so gorgeous, even after whatever sort of night she had, had. She must’ve been in England at that time and I was so jealous and upset that she was with another guy. Of course I never told her. But she looked beautiful. Anyway, a few days later when I tried to retrieve the picture so I could ask one of my friends what he thought of it, it was gone. She must have untagged herself or something because I couldn’t find it anywhere and I secretly feel like she just wanted me to see it so I could be suspicious or know that that was her way of saying she was over me.

“Pat?” she asks me, she’s finally stopped staring out the window and is back to looking at me. I hope she doesn’t realize how I feel.

“Yeah?” She pauses.

“How are you and Shannon?” She doesn’t even seem to mind, she asks so casually. As if it’s normal for us to go our separate ways and pretend that nothing ever happened.

“We… we’re fine. I don’t think it’s as serious as yours sounds to be, that’s for damn sure,” I manage to laugh. She nods. She knows I’m a player. Of course I’m not serious. She knows I’m a slut. Of course I’m not serious about a girl.

“Ah, that’s okay. One day you’ll be serious with someone,” With you, I almost say. But I don’t. I can’t. I don’t want her to be scared off. Once again, I rather shut the fuck up and scream about it later then give her a clue about what’s going on in my mind.

“Anyway, I should probably get home. We have school in the morning.” School. Right. Shit.

“When do you have lunch?”

“Sixth. And you?”

“Same. Sit with me tomorrow.” She starts to laugh, more like a cackle. I look at her like she’s crazy.

“You know who told me to sit them with tomorrow?”

“Who?”

“Lindsay.” I start to laugh too. I remember how much Em hated Lindsay, and how much Lindsay hated her. Rumor has it, it was because of a special someone…

“Well tell Lindsay to go fuck herself and that you’re going to come and sit with me tomorrow. I’ll buy you lunch,” I wink. Emma groans. She hates when I act like this, cocky.

“Maybe. I have other fans, ya know.” I nod. That’s true. Everyone at school thinks she’s like a celebrity. Relax yourselves. She’s mine.

She was, at least.

I take Emma home and go home myself. We only live a few houses apart. Next door neighbors all the way. When I park my car I see that Terrence still isn’t home. He lives across the street from me and he’s one of my good friends. I walk in the house to smell my mom’s cooking and my dad’s sitting at the table reading an article at the table.

“Hey! So get your siblings? Devyn’s with Brynn and I think Wyatt and Shawn are riding bikes outside—but Mrs. Fritt is outside watching them. Just let them know dinner’s ready,” I nod. The joy of having a big family.

“Wait—is Kelly coming?” Kelly’s my lovely older sister. When we were younger I used to fight constantly with her but we got over that stage real quick. I trust her with all my heart and I love her to death. I see my mother shift uncomfortably, looking away from me and turning back to the meal she’s preparing. I take that as a no.

I don’t know why, since nobody really wants to speak about it but for some reason there’s been a drift in the household between my parents and Kell. I don’t know what she did or if she did anything at all for that matter, but Kelly’s barely been showing up to the house. As I walk outside, I take out my phone and call her.

“Hello?” She basically screams into my ear.

“Hey! Kell, ouch. What’s going on? You coming for dinner?” Silence.

“I—I wasn’t asked to come,” I don’t say a word. I don’t know why she wasn’t asked to come.

“Oh, mom probably forgot. Come for dinner. I don’t want to be with the youngins’ by myself,” I hear grunting.

“Listen, I’ll call you back. Maybe catch up this week. I gotta go,” I hear someone yell her name and she abruptly hangs up. What the hell was that all about?

I pass by the Colowski’s house, where Devyn, my twelve-year-old sister is hanging about at. They’re in the backyard dancing to some pop music.

“We gotta go eat dinner,” I say as I approach. I see Harry, Brynn’s dad standing over his vegetable garden, picking tomatoes.

“Hey Mr. C!” He looks up and smiles at me.

“Patrick! How’re ya? Hold on, Candace has some veggies for yer mom. Let me go get her for yer,” Honestly, these are the nicest people you’ll probably ever meet. Harry and Candace Colowski absolutely adore my family so every time they see me they’ll always give me loads of food or, usually, Devyn will come home with bags of food. I don’t know why, but free food is free food. Mr. C hands me two bags filled with cucumbers, tomatoes and carrots. I say thanks and Devyn and I walk away. I proceed across the street, a house over, where I see my brothers riding their bikes with a few of the other neighborhood kids. I don’t know why they always come to Sylvia’s house, Mrs. Fritt’s, but they do. Apparently it’s an extremely good area to ride bikes, as all the kids usually do. I smile at Mrs. Fritt’s who is sitting on her porch, knitting. She’s a quiet old lady and Kylie’s great-aunt.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

I tell my brothers to ride home, and Devyn and I walk back to my house.

“Guess what, Pat?” Devyn tells me as we’re walking.

“What?”

“Emma’s back.” I smile and pretend it’s okay.

“I know. I saw her earlier. She looks great. You should stop by tomorrow after school and ask her if she’s going to go back to being assistant coach for cheer for you guys,” Her eyes brighten.

“That’s a good idea! Yeah, I miss her. I can’t wait to see her again! Is she really tan? Does she speak with an accent? She probably met so many hot boys.” I sigh. I’m not having this conversation with my baby sister.

I get inside the house, my brothers are washing up, my mom’s almost finished setting the table, my dad’s already grabbing food and Devyn goes straight to the bathroom to clean up as well. I empty the bags from Mr. C into the fridge and grab a plate as well. We say grace and then dig in, even though my dad had already done that. Devyn starts telling us about school and how much she loves Brynn and they’re best friends forever, meanwhile my little brothers are in the middle of spurting stories about how they are going on some field trip and are going to go hiking and asking my parents if they’ll chaperone the trip. My dad gives it some consideration.

“I’ll probably go with you guys,” he tells them. I continue to eat, and then I look at my dad and ask him where Kelly is. He clears his throat.

“Guys, I guess we should speak about this now since Pat’s brought it to attention. Your sister has decided to move out. She’s still in Hamelton but renting a place with her… her boyfriend,” my throat catches and I am about to burst into laughter or tears.

“What?” I say.

“Yeah, she’s um. She’ll be alright,” my dad tells me. I look at my mother who is staring down at her plate. Did Kelly move out or was she kicked out? Does it make a difference, really? I try to breathe but my siblings act like it’s not a big deal. My baby brother, Shawn says “It’s not like we see her anyway.” I kind of wanted to hit him but I know he’s too young to understand.

Dinner ends quickly and next thing I know it’s fucking Thursday morning and I’m at the gym sweating my ass off and sore as hell. Terrence was supposed to meet me here but he’s so lazy and didn’t even show up or bother texting me that he wasn’t going to come. I went on my own, since that’s been the routine.

I shower in the gym locker room and then proceed to walk to my school locker. Shannon’s at my side and I didn’t even realize.

“Goodmorning baby,” I kiss her on the lips. She smiles up at me. She’s so innocent looking sometimes.

“Babe, we need to talk,” she tells me. Her voice is silky smooth and sounds almost angelic. I nod my head, wishing for her to proceed.

“Like, so…I know that we’re pretty serious right now and all, so this weekend is my dad’s wedding. Remember I told you he’s remarrying? I want you to come to the wedding with me. I’d really, really appreciate it if you’d be my date…and I could introduce you to my family there.” I want to vomit. I don’t want to meet anyone in her family!

“I—I don’t know. I have a soccer tournament and…” She cuts me off.

“It’s Saturday night. You just need to show up for the reception. Please, I love you.” I close my eyes and try to think clearly, since I really don’t want to meet any extended family—it was bad enough meeting her dad and his fiancée, accidentally, on a Saturday morning while I was trying to sneak my way out of the house.

I open my eyes three seconds later and look straight past Shannon to find Emma strutting down the hallway, looking flawless. Zayne, Kylie, Laura and Caitlyn are with her. I smile and then look back to Shannon.

“One second,” I say to her. I close my locker and walk past her to Emma, who stopped to say hi to some group of girls. They’re probably in her grade because I don’t recognize them.

“Em,” I say from behind her. She turns around and is startled to see me. She smiles. I pull her in to hug me and kiss her softly on her ear. I could feel her quiver in my arms. She liked it.

“Back off,” Kylie says jokingly to me. I do, because I can feel Shannon’s eyes boring into the back of my head and I don’t want to start a fight with her—but I want everyone to know Emma and I talk. So every guy in this building can back the hell up from her.

“What class do you have first?” I ask.

“English.” The only boy in the group of girls she had approached high-fived her.

“English buddies!” he told her. I wanted to hit him.

“That’s nice. Do you… do you want me to walk you?” Emma looked at Kylie, then back at me.

“Nah. I have to go catch up with some people. Nice seeing you though.” Emma turned her back to me and went back to talking with the rest of the girls. I laughed and Zayne looked at me apologetically.

“Don’t,” I said to him. I didn’t want to hear a word.

“I didn’t say anything man,” he said back to me. I walk back to Shannon, who is giving me the dirtiest glare in the world. If looks could kill, I’d be dead.

I agreed to go to the wedding with Shannon. I felt bad. She’s so manipulative. But eh. Whatever. It isn’t like I’ll be missing something else to go out and drink at an open bar with some hot chick who desperately loves having sex with me. That’s the best part of Shannon to be honest—her legs are always open.

For me, at least.

Sixth period comes quickly and I go to the cafeteria to find Emma on line with some of the popular bitches that she was complaining about—Lindsay and Caitlyn. Shannon catches my eye and is sitting in our usual spot with my friends. I walk straight up to baby girl Emma, cutting the entire line—but who really gives a shit?—and put my arm around her shoulder. She looks up at me. She used her fingers to take my arm off her, as if I’m some sort of bug.

“What?” I say to her.

“Why are you here?”

“You’re sitting with me today.” Emma gives the girls a look, as if OMG he’s so annoying why the fuck is this loser talking to me? Meanwhile Lindsay and Marnie want my D. They’d love to be Em right now.

“You don’t need their permission to sit with my babe,” I tell her. She turns a shade of red. Lindsay laughs.

“Fine. But then they have to sit with us too, okay?” She says evenly to me. A little awkward since the last time Lindsay and Shannon were within ten feet of each other, they nearly killed each other. Maybe Em knows this and is doing that on purpose.

“Sounds good. See you soon buttercup,” I walk away just as easily I came. I hope Em is embarrassed and is about to feel how much tension she’s going to start up. But good for her—she wants to play a game, and she wants to play it her way. I’ll go along with it. I don’t care. As long as she ends up as mine, who gives a shit?

“I CANT BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED!” Seventh period—everyone is talking about it. Not only is the entirety of Hamelton Hills High School floating with gossip about Em, but now it’s all about what happened sixth period. Fucking Em had to ruin it for all of us, since now both Shannon, Lindsay and Marnie all have detention together. After school. For the next four school days.

I don’t know why they had to fight or why they were so compelled to, but next thing I know Shannon is cursing her out from across the table, calling her a whore and a bitch, and leaping over the table, tackling Lindsay to the floor. Obviously Lindsay’s stupid and can’t handle my girlfriend’s wrath, so Marnie steps in and starts beating on my girlfriend as well. Em shrieks and grabs Lindsay off her, but winds up getting punched in the face by Marnie. She has a black eye.

Right now, in seventh period, I was able to go to class but Principal Locke took the girls—Shannon, Lindsay, Marnie and Emma into her office. I felt bad for Em and I got really angry when Marnie punched her. I actually pulled Shannon from Lindsay and held her, putting my back to Lindsay so that she was hitting my back instead of Shannon. Shannon was trying to claw her way through my grip, but it wasn’t happening. Enough was enough.

Now though the entire school is talking about it and is so fucking happy that Lindsay got a good beating. Even though Shannon probably would’ve lost, if Em hadn’t done something to step in and distract Marnie from kicking her ass completely.

I’m sitting in my history class with two of my best friends—Jack and Terrence—and they are hysterical. They keep telling everyone in the class what happened and how it went down. They’re so damn happy about it. They think it’s funny. Like it’s some big joke—oh my best friend’s girlfriend got the shit beaten out of her.

I decide to text Em, to see how she’s feeling.

Hey. You ok?

She texts me back almost immediately:

Your girlfriend’s a bitch. She told Locke that it was me, Marnie and Lindsay…so I have detention with them as well. OF COURSE Lindsay and Marnie played along with it. SO THANKS.

Shit. I felt bad. Her first day of school and she gets detention. I’m almost positive everyone will be making fun of her and telling her why did she even bother coming back. That’s something else I realized, a lot of the people in this school are so fucking jealous of Em it makes me sick to my stomach. I don’t understand how you can be so hateful towards someone whose done absolutely nothing to you. But whatever. I have her back at least.

I’m sorry. Do you want me to try talking to Shan?

Why did I say Shan? She’ll be like, nice fucking nickname for your whore, Pat.

No. And don’t expect me to sit with you at lunch. Ever. I hate you, your girlfriend, and your fangirls. My mom’s gonna kill me. Bye

Alright, she’s taking it too far. Her mom won’t kill her. She literally just got back. I need to talk Shan…hopefully she’s in eighth period since that’s the only class I have with her. I’m so disappointed that she’d rat out Em like that. But what do you expect? Jealousy gets the best of us. Or so they say.