Even Heroes Have Scars

[28] Just A Girl

Ansley's P.O.V.

"Hey guys," Jacob said as he opened the door.

Demi and I pulled away and I straightened my shirt as I turned around to face him.

"Hey, bud," I smiled.

"You're early," he checked his phone for the time. "Like, half an hour early."

"Derek let me go home early today," I lied.

My hand felt warm all of a sudden and my stomach did a flop as it was Demi's hand grasping mine.

"Oh. Okay. Cool," he backed away from the door slowly. "Nice to see you, Demi."

"You, too," she smiled, then raised her hand. "Actually, can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Demi," I looked over to her. "Please..."

"Fine. I'll talk to you some other time, Jacob," she waved to him, not questioning me. "Have a good night, you two."

"Thanks. You, too," I hugged her one last time before waving at her as she strutted down the outdoor hallway.

I laughed when she attempted to skips down the steps and fell on her butt on the first step. She brushed her sexy ass off and blushed before slowly stepping on each step. Such a dork. I slipped into the house and shut the door behind me, leaning against it with a smile on my face. After checking the sink and seeing it was empty, I looked over at Jacob who was watching television.

"You didn't eat," I crossed my arms.

"Yeah I did but I already washed the dishes because I didn't want you to do any of that diner work on your day off," he didn't move his eyes from the screen.

"If you say so," I sighed. "I'm going to bed. Night. Love you, bud."

I stalked into the living room and kissed his head, then turned to my room.

Demi's P.O.V.

Why the fuck was I acting like a jealous bitch when Ansley was talking to Hayden? Why was I jealous of a boy who offered to fix her car? Why was I so rude to a boy who did nothing to me? Someone tell me, please. Punch me in the face and tell me I deserved it.

I stood in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet lid with a shiny piece of metal in my hand, my fingers pinching together to hold it as my fingers turned a pale shade of white and tears stained my cheeks.

"Calm down," I whispered to myself in a slight sob. "Calm down. Calm down. She's just a girl."

My grip loosened as I gently set the object down in my blue plastic case that I secretly kept it in that was usually hidden under my bed, but occasionally at the top of my closet.

Thankfully, I'd stopped myself before I went too far, but as I snapped the case shut, my scars itched to be cuts. I wouldn't go back. I'd came so far in my years. I couldn't go back because of a stupid relapse that was caused by a boy with the name of Hayden and his daughter Addison, along with his secret flirtiness that I assumed only I could see.

Slowly, I trudged back into my room with clean wrists and kicked the small box under my bed, falling into bed and shifting under the covers that were cold as I was alone.

I began to believe that maybe Dallas and Marissa were right. Surely, there were many others with the same story. Perhaps...well, perhaps she was "just a girl".

But if she was "just a girl", then I, too, was "just a girl".

As I lay awake that night in my bed, without Wilmer there, I thought about that phrase "just a girl". All of the thoughts that ran through my mind were rather poetic compared to any other thoughts I'd ever had, and they all tied back to her. Her. The girl that wasn't just a girl. And before I knew it, I pulled my phone out, opening the Notes app, and typing my heart out on the little cell phone screen.