Coincidental Heartbreak

Chapter 4

I wake up in my bathtub to the sound of my alarm clock on my cell phone. I’m fully dressed, curled up in my bathtub with blankets, my laptop, licorice and potato chips, oh and what’s left of my dignity. Yesterday around seven o’clock at night, Tristan decided to show up on my doorstep, ringing the doorbell and beating on the door. My gut was telling me that he would be equipped with an amazing apology and I’d somehow forgive him. So I ignored him. He knew I was home; all the lights were on and Bailey’s car was in the driveway, even though she was with Dalton. My bathroom is pretty much sound proof; nothing gets in, nothing gets out. I was snacking and watching Netflix on my laptop until I eventually fell asleep.

After blinking fifty times and taking in my surroundings, it suddenly hits me. It’s Monday.         

I quickly jump out of the bathtub and clear everything else out of it so I can use it for the purpose it serves. There’s a reason why people don’t sleep in bathtubs and it’s because they give horrible back support, but as a quiet place to Netflix spectate, it’s great. As I hurry to get ready, I start to wonder how I’m going to break up with Tristan. Should I just blurt it out? Or should I actually take the time to go into depth as to why? Should I bring up his cheating record or should I just remain ignorant to it? I have no clue what I’m going to do. The more I think about it, the more overwhelmed I become.           

As much as I’d love to throw on a pair of yoga pants, I go the extra mile of wearing skinny jeans and a cute floral blouse. Luckily, it does wonders for my boobs and actually makes it appear like they’re a size bigger than the second letter in the alphabet. I slip on a simple pair of brown Toms to make the blouse less dressy and more casual.           

I rush back into my bathroom to blow dry my long blonde hair and apply a small amount of mascara to bring out the blue in my eyes. Once I’m done rustling to get ready, Bailey walks in with her usual cup of coffee. The look on her face is priceless; she’s typically the one who drags me out of bed during the week days.           

“You look adorable,” Bailey beams.           

“Thanks,” I smile, looking down at my feet. “Marco’s giving me a ride to school, so I’ll be outside.”           

Bailey nods. “Okay.”           

I grab my book bag and head downstairs. I sit outside on the front porch steps, sitting right in the view of the sunrise. I don’t think I’ve been up with early in weeks. Most mornings I roll out of bed at the last minute and pray I don’t look like a complete zombie all day.          

I find myself uncontrollably grinning when Marco’s car pulls into the driveway. I stand up and walk over to his car. I expect him to stay in the car, but he gets out.           

“Were you outside waiting for me?” Marco asks.           

“Yeah…?” I answer, confused. “Why?”           

He shakes his head. “I was going to come to your door; I had this scenario panning out in my head.”       

I smile. “Oh yeah? And how did this scenario go?”           

Marco clears his throat. “I was going to say good morning and tell you that I hope your day is as cool as this,” he pauses and leans in his car through his rolled down window and pulls out a slushy cup from the same gas station we went to Friday night. “Cherry, right?”           

I laugh at his corny joke; as cool as this, I get it, because a slushy is cold. “Well thank you,” I giggle, taking a gulp only to regret the instant brain freeze.