Heather (On hold)

Chapter one

Amora

Get it together, Amora. You can do this.

That's what I repeat to myself as I walk to my psychology class. The one Heather and Grayson also have. It used to be my favorite class, but now I can't even go without feeling like I will throw up from seeing them. 

You would think I had gotten used to seeing them together by now, walking around campus like the perfect little couple. Unfortunately, that's not the case at all. Every time it feels like my heart breaks over and over again, on this continuous loop of despair. You hope for something so much and when you finally get it, it's like you're on top of the world, like nothing can ever make you feel this euphoric again. But when you want something so bad, and you have it only for it to be taken away from you? All you feel is melancholy and you can do nothing about it. 

All I feel is melancholy.  

My throat clogs up as I reach my seat, the one I took over as mine since Heather is currently occupying the seat I used to sit in. It's far in the back, well, all the way in the back where no one can talk to me. Not that they would, I'd just glare or ignore them until they gave up. Why would they? I wasn't important until I got with the famous bad boy, Grayson Everette. Tall with dark hair and "mysterious". What a load of crap, he is the least mysterious person I have ever met. Nobody likes me anymore, apparently, I'm a psychopath. 

Boo-freaking-hoo.

It's honestly funny everyone thinks that, but yet I'm taking psychology. For, you know, my career.

I couldn't care less if nobody liked me. All I wanted was for him to like me and, well, we all can see how that went for me. Do you want to know what is funny though? The seats he just so happens to be sitting in right now, I had originally sat there. It was my spot way, way before he asked me out and HE followed ME to my seat and started sitting there because HE wanted to win me over. It's honestly a pattern here. I continuously gave and gave, but all Grayson did was take and take. 

Piece of crap, I hope Heather likes my leftovers just like the sweater she's wearing right now. 

Our professor began to talk, but I really didn't want to listen to the lesson today, so I put my wireless earbuds in and read my psych textbook. Hey, I may not want to listen to it, but that's not going to stop me from studying. Besides I can get notes from someone else, so I'm not worried. I press play on my playlist, not caring which playlist it is, but regret it instantly once the lyrics reach my ears. 

I'm somebody you call when you're alone
I'm somebody you use, but never own
I'm somebody you touch, but never hold
And you're somebody I'll never really knowI know I'm not the one you really love
I guess that's why I've never given up
'Cause I could give you all you want, the stars and the sun
But still, I'm not enough...

Nope! I immediately shut that down and played a different playlist. A much, much better playlist. I like to call it my rage playlist, and it's a good choice because right now I'm raging. Monster by Skillet begins playing in my ear. Ahh, this is exactly what I need instead of drowning in sorrowful music. Is it just me or is listening to sad, break-up music when you're not sad is great, but when you are sad it just seems whiny? Just me? Well, angry music is much better anyway. 

Before I know it, class is over and I'm rushing to get out as fast as I can. I take out my earbuds, grab my stuff, and begin to make my way down the steps. The bad thing about being the farthest away from the front is the number of steps you have to take to leave. I'm just about to walk out the door when I hear my name being yelled at. Well, my nickname, and only one person ever called me that. Grayson.