Eat your heart out, Keaton, so I can stomp on it and grind it to dust.
How would he feel if I weren't the person I am and our roles were reversed? What if I were the one who cheated on him with someone that I just swore was my friend? Someone like...
Someone like no one, because I don't have any guy friends, no matter what I told Keaton. To me, it always felt disrespectful.
Can men and women be friends only? Absolutely. It just wasn’t something I was interested in doing.
He doesn't feel the same way, obviously, because he not only disrespected me by not thinking about me or my feelings, but he also did it when he screwed another girl.
Would he be as broken as I am? There was a time when I could say yes without hesitation. Of course, there also used to be a time when I could say Keaton would be the last person to cheat on me and break my heart, too.
Honestly, what the hell do I even know anymore?
I pile my hair into a messy knot on top of my head, wrap a red headscarf around it, then add some candy-apple red matte lipstick to finish the look.
Amelia catcalls as she passes me the red Louboutin heels, and I slide them on my feet. I stick one foot out and turn it back and forth as I admire them.
Her parents are always trying to get her to fit into their image, so they're constantly buying her clothes and shoes, hoping she'll one day wear them. She's got a damn impressive shoe collection going in her closet, and nearly all of them have never been worn.
One perk of being her best friend is getting to pick the ones I want to use.
And today, the ones I want are these because Keaton won't be able to look at them without picturing them digging into his back just like I am.
Except I'm one hundred percent positive our pictures are completely different because while he's picturing them doing it for sexual pleasure, I'm picturing doing it out of sheer disgust. Then I finish by shoving them into his disease-infested dick.
"Do I even want to know why you have such a diabolical smile on your face after two days?" Amelia asks.
I stick my foot out and wiggle it along with my eyebrows. "What do you think? They'd look even better with Keaton's ugly, tainted dick staked on them, yeah?"
Amelia lets out that husky laugh of hers that always draws attention, and my smile stretches wider. It feels strange, flexing muscles I haven’t used since Friday night. I know the pain is waiting to drag me back under, but for now, I’m clinging to this rare, light-hearted moment.
A single moment where the sun peeks out from behind the dreary clouds to shine on me.
Because right now, that's all I'm living for.
Moments of peace.
Moments of laughter.
Moments that are tearless.
Moments where I'm just trying to find the light when my world's overtaken by darkness.
Black Eyes and Broken Hearts
Charlie | The Past
Aswewalkontocampus, I brace myself for a parade of pity. Instead, most people just smile and greet me. Only a few sympathetic glances slip through, which, with this many people, is inevitable.
"You look surprised," Amelia notices.
"I am. I expected everyone to look at me with pity, but most just smile or greet me. I was dreading having to face everyone's sorrow along with my own."
"People love you, Char. Most of them will have compassion for what you're going through, but they also know that because of who you are, you're going to be struggling hard enough. They're not going to want to add to that burden. Look around you, babe. You've got the support of nearly all the campus."
That's what I'm afraid of.
But I keep that fear to myself, dreading what Amelia might say. She’s a champion grudge-holder, and Keaton now tops her list of the world’s worst people.
