Love Comes In Purple

7) The Game Of Love

When I got home, my stomach churned with nervous butterflies. I texted Van back asking what was wrong. There was no reply though, and it had already been ten minutes. I was growing impatient, and texted her again. My phone suddenly buzzed, but it wasn't from Vanessa. It was from... Jeff? I never texted Jeff.

The text read "Sup bro".

I responded with "Nm, you?"

"I got some crappy news"

"What??" I sent. The butterflies rose up again and I began to feel sick. I always did overreact when it came to fill-in-the-blanks. My mind would always overflow with the most horrible or heartbreaking 'What-if's.

"We think Sams movin away. There's a for sale sign in front o her yard. Van told me 2 tell u since she broke her cell"

"What?! R u sure it's her house?!" I sent, feeling the nerves. I don't know why they call it butterflies, whoever 'they' are (probably the same people who named AG the miracle mutation) but it felt more like a penguin attacking a raccoon in a swimming pool of dead people. Um. Yeah. I'm weird.

"Yep, unless I've been chillin at the wrong house 4 a year" Jeff replied.

"Did she tell anybody officially?? Or r u just assuming this??" I asked, eagerly.

"Idk" he replied.

Wait, this is Jeff were talking about. JEFF. The guy who once poured root beer in a bowl of chips and ate it like cereal. He probably had the wrong house, or in Jeff's case, the wrong neighbourhood. I wasn't gonna believe him, and why? Because he's Jeff.

I threw my phone on my bed and sat down, scrolling through the Facebook news feeds. Sam had set me up an account on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and Gmail. She said I needed to stay "in the loop", otherwise I'd end up pumping gas someday. I highly doubted that. I already had about 50 friends on Facebook, including Tiffany. I clicked on her profile and my heart stopped.

There, the newest post on her wall, was a picture.

A picture of her and Isaiah.

Kissing.

My heart fell on the ground and shattered. A felt defeated, deflated, and unwanted... With a hint of curiosity. I grabbed my phone and quickly texted Isaiah, asking if he knew about the picture.

He told me he it was a throwback picture from last year, one he didn't remember. He told me he didn't have her permission to post it, and when he asked her to take it down, she freaked out. He said it was better to just leave it up there than to face the horrible and annoying Tiffany. I was beginning to think... Maybe Isaiah isn't the right guy for me. If Tiffany wants him so bad and he won't do anything about it, then maybe I'm the one who should be laying off for a while. He's practically Tiffany's territory, and I was taught not to trespass on to other people's territory. I remembered a quote by Drake, "I'm just gonna let it be, take it as it comes, and watch it as it leaves." That was exactly what I'd do.

It was then that I decided not to go on anymore sort-of-dates with Isaiah. I'd focus on school at school, and my friends with my spare time. No more day dreaming about him.

The thought brought a wave of sadness over me, and I suddenly felt depressed. Maybe Isaiah still had feelings for Tiffany. Maybe he didn't like me the same way back. I knew this decision was gonna suck, because I really liked him. And I was giving up. To Tiffany, the horrible, terrifying, bitchy, weird, annoying, screeching, spoiled, blonde, bratty, Tiffany.

Out of self-pity, I texted Sam. I decided not to bring up the topic of moving with her, and instead asked her about Isaiah. Then decided to save time and just call her.

"Hello?" I tired and disoriented voice said. Shit. I forgot how late it was, AGAIN.

"Oh my god sorry, I forgot how late it was" I said.

"It's fine... I was just watching TV in my room, anyway. Why'd you call?"

"Well, um... I don't know if you heard but..."

"Your date with Isaiah? Yeah, I know. We all do"

"Yeah, um... I don't think he's really the guy for me. I mean, I don't think he really likes me back that much and he's got Tiffany, so-"

"Woah, woah, woah! Him? Not like you? Dude, he's practically head-over-heels for you! Well... Almost."

"Are you serious?!" I asked, as my heart sped up and an uncontrollable smile grew on my face.

"One hundred percent!"

Suddenly, my heart sunk at the thought that I had.

"But... He pretended to like Tiffany... Just to like, kiss her and stuff, so... How do you know he's not doing the same with me?" I asked nervously.

The phone went silent for about a minute. Even though the minute felt like hours, every second of it burned.

"You know what, never mind. I have to go." I said, then hung up before she could reply.

I collapsed on my bed again, feeling the tears swell up in my eyes. What was this feeling? I had never felt like this before. It wasn't like the other times I had cried, at my grandpas funeral or when my hamster died. That was a numb, expected cry. This was more like... Well that's just it. I couldn't explain it. It was almost as if someone were slowly cutting my with their eyes. Whatever it was, I didn't like it, one bit.

Then a thought occurred to me. Was this what they called love? No, it wouldn't be. On TV, love was described as beautiful and warm and amazing. All I feel is curiosity, confusion and pain. Was that what love was supposed to feel like? Pain?

Or maybe, this was what they called heartbreak. My heart didn't feel broken. It felt more overwhelmed with confusion, than broken. Maybe... This was what they called drama. Yes, that's it. Drama.

I had only really felt broken hearted once, and that was when my neighbour, Travis and I had gone on a date together. I never considered it a real date, because Travis was kinda mean. Although I didn't know it at the time, Travis also had a girlfriend. It really sucks, because I really liked Travis. I don't remember the feeling much, but I do remember adapting the skill to block everything out.

If he really was just playing off of me, I certainly wasn't gonna fall for it. On TV, heartbreak had been described as horrible, depressing, terrifying and life-changing. Or, maybe this time was different. It had only been about a month that we had known each other, yet it felt like a year. Maybe he really did feel something.

But what to do?

I started scrolling down my news feeds on Instagram, when I came across a post that a girl Bridget had posted. She was in my Art class. The picture read;

Lets play a game

Lets hold hands

Lets be best friends

Lets hangout all the time

Lets laugh

Lets kiss

Lets go on dates

Lets text and call each other 24/7

Lets have our own nicknames

Lets become an item

But whoever falls in love first

Loses.

~The Game Of Love~

What? So love is a game now? I'd barely even known what "love" was. I thought it was a feeling, not a game? I guess I was wrong. So that's what he was doing! Playing the game of love! That makes a world more of sense. I became determined not to lose this "game of love". I must not fall in love with him. I can't. And even if I did, there's no telling if he'd accept me for who I really was. Just another genetic mutant.