Ones Ignored

Chapter 1 | It was dumb, I was dumb, but I couldn't help it

Wanting to throw up is watching your supposed-to-be-boyfriend flirt with your best friend. You are not sure if you should be glad to be rid of the stereotypical meant-to-be couple that was pushed on to you or to be hurt.

You choose the latter because unfortunately the guy who was now playfully tucking a piece of hair behind your best friends' ear, his eyes on her lips in a not so subtle way, is one you are in love with. In love with is an understatement, the guy was all you have known ever since you joined the cheerleading squad the first week of your freshman year.

That is what happens when a guy gives you his undevided attention for a few months straight. You fall for him; his smile, his lighthearted laughter, and his way with words. Wow, he was good with words.

You're the best girl I've ever been with Ivy, he whispers to you in the dark of the night, his hand lingering on your thigh wanting for you to nod so he can push it more up.

What a fucking lie.

But you go back to him- pick up his phone call late at night and sneak out of your house to meet him. For the night you let him love you and then you go back to your house where you have to lie to your single father who wants nothing but to be the best for you. You swallow the guilt when he starts talking about what a wonderful young woman you were becoming.

That is what happens when you are brought up by people who get everything handed out to them at the ripe age of fourteen.

"Blake", I whisper to the guy next to me, the guy that has yet to stop looking at my best friend, Stella's lips. I don't want to sound desperate but I also don't want to let him go. I loved him, I know I did. I know I did in the way my heart panged at the sight in front of me. He doesn't hear me the first time, but the second time where I wrap one of bare legs onto his own leg and practically coo his name does.

"Ivy", the way he says my nickname is one of the reasons I'm still hung up on him. He said that our relationship is an on and off thing, that I could see other guys if I asked him too. He is just using that to say that he wanted to hook up with other girls while still having me. I knew this, this was routine ever since beginning of last year when I caught him in bed with a girl on my team. We agreed on those terms then and ever since I have been trying my best to not let him go, have him just want me.

But there have been other girls and I would be a loser to admit their names. So I'll admit their looks: Pretty blonde with blue eyes, Red-headed girl with green eyes, brunette with matching brown eyes, another blonde with blue eyes. At least he didn't go for girls who looked like me; wild messy curly hair with hazel eyes. I was also the only African American girl he went for.

I should be excited about that right?

"Babe", I say to him in return, placing one hand on the collar of his shirt. I look into his eyes and a pang of happiness spreads through me as his own meet mine. He always did have the prettiest blue eyes. "Want to come over tonight? My dad wouldn't be home."

I didn't know if that was true, I didn't see much of my father these days. With college coming up and his promise to send me to school with at least my first year tuition paid in full, he was working a lot. A lot more than he started to do the beginning of my freshman year when my mother left us. I didn't hear from her until a year later where she had invited me for dinner. To meet her new family. Talk about unappealing. I still went though, fifteen-year-old me still wanted a mother.

Blake places a gentle hand right at the hem of my skirt, one that was too short to be wearing to school, and then frowns. I try not to look away at that, I knew what that meant. "I may already have plans tonight, baby." I definitely knew what that meant and I desperately wanted to ask with who? It was a fair question and the answer was pretty obvious as the girl next to him, whom I called my best friend, stared at him.