Class of 2015: Of Broken Hearts and Promises
A series of one-shots based on my fellow classmates. Feedback appreciated. Of Broken Hearts and Promises: She can promise all she wants (we can go back to being friends, just like we were, best buddies, you and me); he knows it'll never really work out just like that. He'll forgive her for breaking his heart, but he's never forgetting, never regretting, never giving up what they had.
There they are.
It's him, it's her.
Wouldn't they look so cute together?
Rumors, rumors, going around. He likes her. She likes him. So simple, yet so complicated.
Drama, Romance, Heartbreak, Life.
Welcome to the Class of 2015.
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Of Broken Hearts and Promises: She can promise all she wants (we can go back to being friends, just like we were, best buddies, you and me); he knows it'll never really work out just like that. He'll forgive her for breaking his heart, but he's never forgetting, never regretting, never giving up what they had.
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Sometimes, he thinks he might still like her.
It’s when she’s just who she used to be, a happy, giggly, girly Allie, his sweet childhood crush, the girl he knew before she learned the art of seduction, the way to attract a man, before she became just another girl he was sick of; fake, fraudulent, superficial.
He often finds himself desperately wishing for back then. For normal to come back and for the drama drama drama to just disappear. When he sees her flirt with yet another guy, sees her expertly applying the makeup that she didn’t need, sees her bitch about people to her best friend Hannah (her stupid, rude, obnoxious Hannah), and he can’t help but feel this familiar ache in his chest. He wishes for things to just be what it was; the easy platonic companionship of just a guy and just a girl. (She’d said so, promised so, that they’d stay friends forever and always and not even a b r e a k u p could mess them up, but now everything’s changed so he’s not really surprised they aren’t too close anymore anyhow.)
He remembers when they first met, when she’d moved into his town in 4th Grade, where she’d brightly introduced herself to him with a pleasant smile on her face and welcoming handshake.
He remembers the slow dance they’d shared at her Bat Mitzvah, "romantic" music playing in the background, her head resting gently on his chest and her arms placed softly around his neck, hearts jumping and palms sweating.
He remembers when he’d first asked her out, when he’d been a tall, slightly awkward teenager with his still bouncy brown curls and she’d blushed her pretty blush, and, more or less, said yes.
He remembers their first date, skin touching skin as they nervously held hands, walking her home after a night spent at the movie theater.
And most of all, he remembers when she b r o k e his heart.
Rereading the words she sent him. Heart racing. Eyes bulging. Panic. Fear. Despair. (I think we should break up.)
She’d broken up with him with a text message.
A text message.
He hated himself for not seeing it. For not seeing the signals she sent him. For not seeing that he might’ve been able to salvage their relationship. (I just don’t feel that way anymore.)
He should’ve known. He should have, he should have—
Her infamous little giggle interrupted his rant, the brunette of his used-to-be dreams chatting amiably with her "friends". (I think it’d be for the best, if we…if we just went back to being…being friends.)
With a slightly noticeable shake in his sigh, he tore his eyes away from her. Some memories were just too painful to touch…
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So that was a little angry :P. And a really, really weak ending. Sorry. The ending is usually where I mess up the most.
In case you didn't realize, I've yet to mention the guy's actual name. His name is Isaac. (But I'm not really supposed to what happened, so I can't really tell you his last name).
Like I said....
Feedback appreciated.
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