The Aftermath

Just Keep Your Cool, Man

I can't stop thinking about it, well, maybe 'it' isn't the right word. I couldn't stop thinking about her. The issue is done and dealt with: I'm with a new girl who I'm actually interested in, and she's all by herself. She can figure herself out, it's not my job anyway. A pile of clothes sat on my bedroom floor, waiting to be thrown into the nearest basket. I couldn't be bothered to do the littlest thing. My fingers were too busy in my pockets fiddling with the inside of my jeans. Me, the coolest guy I know, probably the coolest guy on Earth, didn't know what to do in his spare time. Me? Bored? Nah, not possible. There was no scientific way of me ever losing my cool. However, this was strange. Why would I be questioning my awesomeness if I was already awesome? I was too sunken in my thoughts until the door creaked open.

"Duncan?" A familiar voice called out: Gwen, my former friend-turned-girlfriend. Her dark teal hair covered her face while she tried to scan the room in search of me.

"Yeah, pasty?" I said, putting on my usual smug facade.

"You said we were gonna go to the movies tonight. You don't even look ready, but if you wanna cancel for another time, I'm alright."

God, she's nothing like her. She would've been dragging me out of the house by now. Screaming and yelling at me for the tiniest mistake, whether it was almost being late or not bringing her a jacket in case she got cold. Whatever, I'm better off without that crazy chick.

The door closed shut, leaving a loud echo that left the birds outside flying into a different area. My closet lazily packed with hanging shirts continued to taunt me with the messiness as the door held wide open, waiting for me to close it. Even if it wasn't a living thing, I wasn't gonna give that fucking wardrobe the satisfaction of me even coming close to it. I couldn't keep my eyes open, my eyelids were struggling to stay up and awake. A loud bang came from my left side. My coffee-filled cup just broke on the table. Way to maintain your room, Dunkie.

Dunkie? Shitshitshit. What's wrong with me? It's all her fault. She's infecting my mind. Like a contagious disease. If anything, she is the disease.