First I heard the door slam open, and then my book fall into my lap with a quiet thud. I jerked my head up, and my hair flew up behind me as I did so.
He stood in the doorway, looking furious, hurt, confused, and tired all mixed together with a small amount of hotness thrown in. We’re talking about a trouble with a side of wanting to be anywhere but there.
I bit my tongue, knowing why he was mad. After a long junior year, I had broken up with my best friend and now ex-boyfriend after only a week of our senior year. He didn’t know it, but I had seen him kissing the scantly-dressed head cheerleader under the bleachers after the kickoff rally. Yes, I knew that cheerleaders at Krimson High had the reputation of being a little loose. He knew I was at the kickoff rally, though. I was elected the rally club president! I had to be there, so it’s not like he was being secretive. How many other girls had he kissed while being secretive. I had absolutely not idea and didn’t want to know.
“Breaking up? What’d I do? And over a text! Are you crazy, Mel’? Have you lost your mind?” His glare pierced right through me, and I stared down at my hands. Even though I saw him kissing a cheerleader, I could almost understand why he would want something more. I had been told I was cute, but I knew that I wasn’t anything more than that. I wasn’t gorgeous, wasn’t a stick of a girl, and wasn’t a made up to look like a wanna-be Hollywood star. Even though I saw through that stuff and liked being just areal person, a lot of guys liked the wanna-be’s. So, if he wanted them, he could have them. I could do better.
“Mel’, why in the world would you want to break up?” he snapped, stepping into the room. “Where did we go wrong?”
“I’m tired of us, Randy,” was all that I managed to say, my stomach twisting and flopping as if it were doing a synchronized swimming routine and gymnastics combined.
“Tired of us? Tired of us?” The anger in his voice made me feel small and insignificant, and now that he was standing right by the bed he seemed to tower over me.
I nodded, feeling tears stinging my eyes. He had hurt me so much, but it was hurting me more to hurt him.
“Why break up? Can’t we get through this?” he asked, his voice just as angry but not as loud. It sounded a little softer, but I was guessing that it was my imagination thinking that.
I sat there, feeling like I had been accused of a crime that I had not committed but the whole world did not believe me. It was like being interrogated by the good cop/bad cop couple, except for they were both bad cops.
He paced the room, and I wasn’t sure if he was letting off his energy by doing that or letting more stir up. I was still staring at my hands, but out of the corner of my eye I was his jeans pass by me, then they would come passed the other way, and pass again, and so on.
“Do you know what this is going to do to my rep? I risked a lot by choosing to date you, and it’s paid off. Now that you are well-liked and popular, you want to dump me? Throw me under the bus? I thought that you were a better person than that. You really just wanted to sabotage me?” he asked, playing the guilt card. I knew that he was full of it, but I was falling for it. I felt guilty. He had said that he liked me, though I wasn’t, as he put it, “in the same league” as he was. Now that I was “in the same league” because of him, I wanted to dump him. I did enjoy knowing so many people and being well-liked. He had helped me become rally club president.
Then he decided to play another card on top of the guilt card. “I thought you said that you love me, Mel’? What happened to that? What happened to the love?”
I wanted to ask him the same thing, but I was scared to. Though I knew that he would never touch me, I was scared of him verbally. He was right, though. I still loved him. I didn’t want to let him go, but how could I continued the relationship knowing that he was cheating on me? What about him loving me?
“Mel’, is any of this getting through, or am I just wasting my time?” he asked, his voice a little softer now. This time, I was pretty sure that my ears weren’t fooling me.
“I saw you making out with another girl at the rally, Randy.” I had summoned enough to look up at him with tear-stricken eyes, and almost immediately I regretted the decision. All of the good times we had had together as a couple seemed to flood back as I looked into his eyes. Our first date, first kiss, all of the dances, group get-togethers, parties, surprises, and so much more. Even the nights when we would stay up late and talk then show up to school tired seemed so special suddenly. Was I ready to give that up?
He sat on the bed, suddenly quiet. “You have been so busy, Mel’. I need some attention, and though we have different schedules I can’t just stay bored.”
“So you make out with a cheerleader? That’s how you entertain yourself?” I heard my voice crack as I fought back the tears.
“Sweetie, I love you. You are my girlfriend and have been. Don’t end this just because I made a stupid decision. You don’t want to do that. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I didn’t know that it would bother you like this. I figured that you would understand.”
My mind told me that he was just being a smooth-talker, but my heart believed him. “How many other girls have you kissed?”
“She’s the first. I was just…just weak because we used to spend time together at rallies.” I wanted to believe that he was being honest so bad that I convinced myself that he was a good guy that just had a moment of weakness.
“Okay,” I said quietly. I had so many mixed emotions going, but I knew that I would not win the argument against him.
He leaned in and kissed me, and the familiarity of his lips was refreshing. For a fleeting moment I didn’t care who else had kissed those lips as long as I could claim that they were mine.
“So we’re okay?” he asked, looking me and cupping my chin in his hand.
I nodded and smiled. He kissed my forehead, and he changed to subject so that we could talk about something lighter.
I was in love with the smooth-talking speech and debate club president, and I couldn’t do a thing about it. It was an ugly cycle called love, but I couldn’t help it. His smooth words, soft smile, and gorgeous eyes had me captivated. I loved him. And I was helpless against it.