Flynn - a kissing booth fan fiction

Seems (Book)

I thought about going after Elle, about going over to her house and begging her to take me back. But in the end, I couldn't bring myself to do it. She wouldn't take me back now, not if I didn't give her a good reason to. And ultimately, I didn't have one. She didn't trust me and I wasn't willing to confess everything that was going on at school. So instead of going after her, I sat down on the edge of my bed and watched as the rain started pelting down against the glass doors that led out to the balcony.

My vision swam as tears gathered in my eyes before falling hot onto my cheeks and I wiped them away roughly with my arm. I was angry and hurting and I had no idea what to do next. Everything seemed pointless. It felt like a piece of me had been cut out, taken from me against my will and there was no way to fix it, to be whole again. The best part of my life was gone, lost.

All I could hear was Elle's voice. Telling me, over and over again in a torturous loop, that she couldn't do this anymore, that it wasn't working, that we should break up. I picked up my headphones, shoving them on and turning the volume way up to try and drown her words out. But even if I could no longer hear her voice, I could still picture her face. Whether my eyes were open or closed, all I could see was Elle's face after I said I was sorry.

Shattered. Heartbroken.

I knew the feeling.

I couldn't bring myself to stay until Monday like I'd originally planned. It was too hard to be there, so close to Elle with no hope of changing her mind. So, I did what I always do. I ran. As soon as I could, I got on a plane and went back to Boston. It wasn't far enough. The hurt followed me there, finding me every time I wasn't completely focused on something else. Heartbreak is like a knife that keeps on cutting, long after you feel like you should have passed out from the pain.

I buried myself in my course work, in training, anything to not have a moment to think about her. Chloe and the guys still dragged me out to our usual spots and parties and stuff, but it was hard to let loose and have a good time. Everything felt a bit hollow and kind of forced. When I phoned home, Mom asked me about school and football and my friends, but never questioned whether I was dating. I guess it was probably pretty obvious that I wasn't.

I tried not to check up on Elle through socials and Lee had been pretty radio silent as far as she was concerned. Elle herself had been completely absent, no contact at all, but I'm not sure I could have expected anything else, really. Then one morning, out of nowhere, I wake up, check my phone and find a text message from her that she'd obviously sent late the night before.

Elle: I miss you sooooo much xxxxxx

What the hell?

I look the timestamp. 2:24am, Boston time, which meant it had been late enough on the west coast that Elle had probably been drunk when she sent it. I wrack my brain trying to remember if Lee had mentioned there being a party on this week... no, not a party... a dance. The stupid Sadie Hawkins dance. If Elle had gone to it, she would've had to ask some guy to go with her... unless she'd gone on her own, or with friends maybe? Was that why she'd got drunk and text me, because she was lonely?

Had the message even been meant for me? Was it arrogant of me to assume that I was the person she missed? I mean, it might have been an accident that she'd sent it to me... ugh. Running my hand through my hair in frustration, I thumb my way over to Instagram, checking Lee's account - nothing. I pause, not wanting to check Elle's. No, I won't do that.

But I can look at Rachel's... Before I can curb my masochistic tendencies, I click on Lee's girlfriend's profile... and just this once, I wish I hadn't. Because there she is. Elle. Looking beautiful all dressed up for the dance. With him. Her friend. Marco.