It’s important to tell the truth, especially in books like this. My psychiatrist says that I’m holding too much in and that I need to purge all that negative energy from myself. I believe she called it bearing my soul. I don’t really know what the point of all this is, and to be honest it feels a little forced, but what the hell. It’s supposed to be helping me.
Let’s see….where do I start? Ah, I know.
For as long as I can remember, it’s always been Courtney and Melanie. In that order. Courtney Stevens has always been my best friend; we’ve shared secrets and relationships (mostly hers). We shared her mother’s passing. We shared her father’s marriage to Trish, the Dragon Lady. We shared hockey and netball and lip-gloss. We were sisters; inseparable.
I’ve always been envious of Courtney. Who wouldn’t be? She’s smart and athletic. She’s sociable. It helps, of course, that she’s always been the beautiful one with the legs that go on forever and the perfectly straight teeth and the bright smile. The happy personality, she’s the “party maker” and the “boy magnet”. I think it would be safe to say that everyone wants to be Courtney Stevens, including me.
There are times that I can recall where I couldn’t stand Courtney, but she’s my best friend and that overshadowed whatever problems I had with her. I couldn’t live without her. Sometimes I think she might’ve pitied me. Poor, little Melanie, the girl she felt sorry for in pre-school because no one – no one – wanted to play with her; poor little Melanie who didn’t get Valentine’s Day cards from admirers. Yup, poor little me.

I guess our story starts on Saturday afternoon. My boyfriend, Alex Paxton, had shown up, unexpectedly. I’d been surprised to see him; he’d told me that he was playing a game of soccer at his friend, Joel’s. I’d figured that the two of them would just hang out afterward as well.
Alex Paxton was, I can happily say, my first boyfriend. We met at school. He was the new kid that everyone was weary and suspicious of. He had light brown hair that was cut short to meet the school’s uniform requirements. That wasn’t so bad because he had pretty, hazel coloured eyes that glittered in the light and a smile that would melt even the iciest of hearts. Rather than me talking to him first – which would’ve been very uncharacteristic of me – he spoke to me first. I remember that day as if it was yesterday. Our English teacher, Mrs. Dreyer, had put him next to me. Don’t ask me where Courtney was….she had a habit of just leaving me in the dust to join her “other” friends anyway.
“I really hate reading,” he sighed.
I looked at him, unsure of what to say. I like reading. Courtney doesn’t like reading. I guess that was something else that made me the outsider.
“Do you like reading?” he asked.
I nodded, wearily.
“That’s cool,” he said, shifting in his chair to turn to me. “What do you like to read?”
I was certain that a person who didn’t like reading would not be interested in knowing what I liked to read. I was always labelled a “nerd” when I was talking about what kind of books I liked. People always said I was boring and that I would never fit in if I continued to be who I was (sounds like a double standard to me – they can be who they are, but I can’t?). I remember hearing Joel Matthews – who would later become one of Alex’s best friends – saying that people who read books don’t have lives. I beg to disagree. Like Joel, people who don’t read books are just stupid.
Anyway, from that day on, we spent the whole of our English periods just talking. In a week, I’d learned that Alex liked to play soccer; that his mother was an architect; that he could play Super Mario in his sleep and that he liked to draw and paint. He wanted to study graphic designing. A month later, he asked me to go the Valentine’s Ball with him. I’d never been asked to go – not in primary school and not in the previous two years that I’d been in high school – so, I jumped at the chance. I told Courtney all about it. She was so excited with me and on the night, she came over to my house so we could get ready together.
The Valentine’s Ball was the most fun I’d ever had. For once, I had someone who had kept his eyes only on me. I’d had so much fun that I didn’t want the night to end. Thinking back on it, I was glad it did end because the next day Alex asked me out on a date and before I knew it, I had a boyfriend.
“Oh, I’m so happy for you!” Courtney said; all giddy about my love life.
She would call me after every date I had with Alex and she’d want details. I had no problem giving her those details because every image of Alex and the dates we had were always fresh and as vivid as a photograph in my mind. They were my favourite movie and I’d replay them in my mind repeatedly.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, letting him in.
“We need to talk,” he replied.
I couldn’t make sense of the look on his face. It was something between nerves and restlessness.
“What’s up?” I asked.
He took a deep breath, rubbing his hands together. “Maybe we should sit down.”
I arched my eyebrows and we both sat down at the table in the kitchen. I was trying to read his mind. Something just wasn’t right.
“You know that I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you,” he began. “I’ve been thinking about us and you for a very long time and–” he was babbling the way he always did when he was nervous.
“Alex!” I said, reaching out to take his hand. “Calm down. What’s this about?”
He pulled his hand away from mine, his hazel eyes meandering in random directions. “I think you’re an amazing girl,” he said, his voice calming. “I just don’t think you’re the right girl for me.”
Surprise and hurt wash over me like a tsunami. I don’t think I’d quite registered what he’d said in that moment.
“What?” I ask, shaking my head.
“Look, Mel–”
“You’re breaking up with me?”
He hesitated for a moment and then nodded, slowly.
“Where is this coming from? What did I do?”
“Nothing!” he added quickly. “It’s not you,” hesitation again. “It’s me.”
I leant back against the chair, dumbfounded.
“We can still be friends,” he said.
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My voice was just a frozen lump in my throat and I was too busy trying to blink away the tears.
“I’m sure you’ll find someone who loves you more than anything because you deserve it, Mel. But that person can’t be me.”
I remained mute. I think I was lost somewhere in my brain. Was he really breaking up with me? Out of nowhere, when there was nothing wrong?
“I’m sorry,” he says, standing up.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
The words were somersaults and cartwheels in my head. I don’t even think I heard him leave. All I remember thinking is that Alex was my first everything; he was my first love, my first kiss. He was the first guy to make me feel like I was actually worthy of being loved. He was the first guy to tell me that he loved me. Did he lie? Did he lie about all of it? About me being the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen? About me being special? Was he lying about respecting me?
It must’ve been a lie.
Why else was he willing to just throw me away like a used rag doll? I’m sure I was a good girlfriend. I mean, I never flirted with other guys. I never cheated on him. I always gave him his space; I let him be his own person, have his own friends.
I thought we were fine. I guess he just wanted more.

* * *
“He’s such an ass!” Courtney exclaimed, shoving another spoonful of ice-cream into her mouth. “He just broke up with you just out of the blue with no reason?”
I nodded over the ice-cream I was devouring by the spoonful. Courtney had come over quite quickly after I’d called her.
We were on my bedroom floor, Bar One Chocolate Fudge ice-cream between us. In the time that Alex had left and I’d called Courtney, I had managed to get myself to my bedroom. Courtney found me curled on my bed, tissues all around me. She’d come equipped with the ice-cream and a shoulder to cry on.
“I want to know everything,” she said.
So I told her. I told her how it came so out of the blue, it left me feeling like an idiot.
“Joel probably knew about it before I did,” I said, fighting back tears.
Courtney shook her head. “Boys! They’re just so full of crap. Joel probably put him up to it.”
“You think so?”
“I wouldn’t put it past him.”
Courtney stayed until it was almost time for dinner.
“I have to go. Dragon Lady will kill me if I even think of pitching up late,” she said getting up.
I walked her to the door. She gave me a hug goodbye. It’s going to be okay, you’ll see, she said.
I really hoped she was right.
* * *
I don’t think Joel Matthews ever liked me. It doesn’t matter, I’ve never liked him much either. He chews with his mouth open; he’s sloppy and he treats people like objects. It surprised me when Joel and Alex became friends. I’m not sure when it came about, but I heard them discussing an FA Cup match that had taken place the night before in Geography. Joel is a Manchester United fan (I guess that explains the arrogance) and Alex is a Chelsea fan. They were arguing the controversial moments of the game; a red card received by Wayne Rooney that Joel was adamant he didn’t deserve. Anyway, by the end of the month, they were playing football at Joel’s house with Drew Kristie and Tyson Page every Saturday. That turned to them going out to parties on the weekends. Parties that I didn’t get invited to, but that Courtney had no problem ditching me to attend.
Joel has always been against my relationship with Alex. He’s been whispering in Alex’s ear about what kind of social suicide being with a girl like me is. He’s been encouraging secrecy on Alex’s part about what he’s been doing and whom he was with.
“You’re not married to him!” he said, once.
It wouldn’t surprise me if what Courtney said about Joel influencing Alex’s breakup with me is true. If Joel Matthews orchestrated that breakup then I’ll officially hate him forever. There’s just no other reason why Alex would break up with me out of nowhere. Joel must’ve been behind it!
Monday morning at school, I’m met by Delphi. Delphi Kim is not my best friend, but she’s my friend. She’s Asian – her grandparents emigrated from Korea. Her father married a Korean woman who he met when he was visiting family back in Korea. Delphi’s mother, Jang Mi, went to Oxford University in England and worked in England as a lawyer. When she married Delphi’s father, Simon, they uprooted to South Africa. Delphi was born here, so I suppose that makes her South African.
“I heard about you and Alex,” she said, hugging me. “I’m so sorry.”
I didn’t reply. She knew already?
“How’re you holding up?” she asked, stepping back from the hug.
I shrugged. “Good, I guess.”
Delphi has raven coloured hair and dark brown eyes. Her top back teeth are hidden behind her large front teeth and wide brown eyes with the Asian tilt and the fold that almost hide her eyelashes.
We walked down to the school’s main building. It didn’t surprise me to find Courtney chatting with two other girls. She seemed to just fit in so perfectly. Courtney just seemed to be so perfect in general; everyone always greeted her and spoke to her because they wanted to. In my case it was more like because they felt obligated to. I can recall many a bored face staring back at me when I’m talking to them, but with Courtney, they just seemed to enjoy themselves. They just seemed to want to be her friend. It was always “hi, Courtney” and then, as if it were an agonising afterthought, they threw in the obligatory, half-hearted “hi, Melanie” twenty feet behind me.
She spotted us and immediately cut her chat short. She hugged me, almost sympathetically.
“I hope you don’t mind that I told Delphi,” she said, her eyes rolling over to our friend.
I shook my head, close my eyes. “No worries. I was going to tell her anyway.”
School was like a blur. My eyes just kept falling on Alex. He didn’t seem upset at all, actually. He seemed to be taking it pretty well actually; laughing and joking with Joel. He spoke to almost every other girl in the classes we had together except me. Was this the version of “friends” he was talking about? The one where we didn’t even talk to even greet each other?
It’s funny what you notice when you’ve broken up with someone. It didn’t take me long – halfway into the day at school – to realise that Alex was one of “those” guys. The ones who made vulgar jokes about what they wanted to do with girls during – you know; the ones who brag about who they do it with and for how long; the ones who have no problem degrading a girl. The ones who whistle when girls come walking past them and talk about that hot chick at last night’s party. Alex was never the type of person to just make those kinds of jokes. He was chivalrous; always stopping to let a girl through the door before him. He picked up the pens that girls dropped. He was a gentleman. Was, of course, being the operative word. The person I was looking at was not the Alex Paxton I knew. No, what I was looking at was a carbon copy of Joel Matthews. The idiot who slept with girls like it was his religion; the dumbass who was always kicking the rugby ball high into the air to his mate on the other side of Grade 11 block. The careless Black Ops fan who ran around with Drew Kristie re-enacting the video game, minus the ammunition.
That was who I was looking at.