Random Bits of My Brain

My Guilty Pleasure (Part 2)

Tristan

I'm hot.

My mom is a supermodel, my dad was the original Calvin from Calvin Klein.

I'm a genius.

I could've graduated highschool when I was 14. I can multiply triple digits in my head within seconds.

I'm charismatic.

I can make an old, stiff grandma's knees weak. I can talk my way out of jail simply with a smile. I can talk a future suicide victim out from walking off a cliff.

I'm athletic.

I am the captain of the swim team and have been on the track team since middle school, specializing in the 400m hurdles.

I'm musical.

I have a record as the youngest concert master in the Detroit Symphony Orchestra at age 12, up there with the highschoolers and college students.

I'm perfect.

So why can't Miranda see past my "bad-boy" exterior?

But you know what they say.

Beggars can't be choosers.

So I'll have to settle with any "arrangement" she wants.

But I don't have to be happy about it.

****************************************

"Hey," Miranda says seductively, smiling at me from under her thick, dark eyelashes.

Smirking at her in a similar fashion, I lean my arm against the doorway, flexing, but being very subtle about it. "Come back for more?" I sneer, a smug look on my face.

"Actually," Miranda replies, a sad look coming over her eyes, "I'm here to say goodbye."

At  her words, my face froze, along with my heart and my pose. "What?" I ask, incredulously. "What do you mean bye goodbye?"

Instead of answering my question, she simply pulled my head in to hers, fusing ours together in a sweet, but passionate kiss. And as we continue, I feel a single hot tear blaze a trail down my cheek.

***************************************

When I woke up under my black-striped duvet, I reached out sleepily, my eyes still closed. When all I felt was empty space, I opened my eyes, to be greeted by a single note, left on that perfumed lavender paper. Upon resting my eyes on it, I saw the words "it was fun while it lasted. don't look for me. -M."