And Then We Fell Apart (18+)

chapter 15

It's a full week before we talk again.

I spend that time laying in bed and watching television, all while starving my already exhausted body out of absolute devastation. I find out that Sam not speaking to me is far worse than any rejection. It puts me into a state of shock for a full seven days. My last week of summer consists of me sulking and hiding my face from everyone out of pure shame for what I've done.

I never should have pushed Sam away, forced myself on him, called him a coward, or gone out with Stella. And I never should have kissed Alex.

Even my mom tries to come in my room to ask me what's wrong. I tell her it's nothing, I'm just tired. She asks if it has to do with Sam. I try not to cry, and I tell her again that it's nothing. She asks if I want to try a new pizza place for dinner, and my stomach growls. But I say no.

The only positive I've gotten out of all of this is when I step onto the digital scale in my mom's bathroom, I see that I've lost more weight. Another four pounds in just seven days. That means I'm only six more away from being pretty, according to Stella. I'm only disappointed that I didn't get to fifteen by the start of the school year for when I plan to see Sam next.

Maybe when he sees me, he'll change his mind.

My landline rings late on a Friday afternoon after my mom and Mari leave for their garden walk thing. They'll be gone until Sunday morning.

With all of the energy I can muster up, I pick up the phone and hope deep down that it's Sam. But I know in my heart that it's not him. I really messed up.

"Hello?"

"It's Stella," the monotone voice makes me sigh in disappointment. She's called me a couple of times this week— once to ask me about Alex and if anything new happened, the other to ask if I know what's up with Sam.

When I ask her to elaborate, she tells me he hasn't talked to her or his mom in a few days. He just goes out to the beach every morning and is back by dinner, then he goes upstairs to watch DVDs in the bath.

"What's up," I close my eyes and cover them with my hand. The sun is bright.

"So, I was thinking," she drags her voice out. I wish she'd get to the point. "Instead of having my summer party at my house, maybe we use yours?"

"I don't know, Stella. My mom would be pissed," I shake my head.

"Come on," she groans. I picture her sulking. "You have the back deck which is so much nicer than my backyard. Plus, that'll keep a majority of people out of the house anyways."

Sighing, I swallow hard. "I don't know," I repeat. "I just don't think it's a good idea."

"Please? This is my last party before I go away for school in a few days. It would mean a lot to me!"

I don't really care about Stella or her feelings. Maybe to a degree, but she's fairly low on the totem pole. After all of her sabotaging and manipulation over the last year and a half, I find it hard to scrounge up any sympathy when it comes to her.

But still, she's a damn good manipulator.

"Fine. But you have to help me clean everything up tomorrow before our moms get home on Sunday," I exhale. I don't have it in me to fight back.

"Oh my god, thank you!" she yells excitedly. I hold the phone away from my ear, her voice sounds sharp and makes my head hurt worse. "Come over now and we can get ready together."

"I—"

Click. She hangs up before I can offer a rebuttal about not wanting to come over.

It's not that I dont want to get ready with her (or maybe it is), but I really don't want to run into Sam, especially when I feel like this. I'm afraid I'll cry if I see him, I'm afraid I'll tell him that I'm sorry for everything, and I miss him. I know it wouldn't be the worst thing, but I'm mad at him too.