Heartbreak Girl

Simon ; your heart hurts

VIOLET WAS OBLIVIOUS TO THE FACT THAT HER BEST FRIEND WAS IN LOVE WITH HER, AND THUS was the fate of Simon Fitzpatrick; forever friendzoned. They grew up together, had joint birthday parties, went through a multitude of firsts, survived the best and worst of days, and then they ended up living in the same city attending different colleges. Simon was convinced that it was fate, but on the second week of their first year of school, Violet had announced her new boyfriend: Garrett, a third year, tall, muscular, basically the opposite of lanky, nerdy Simon. Garrett made it very clear to Simon from the start that Violet was his and his only, something he'd backed up with a black eye that had lasted for weeks and was disguised by Simon as simply a chemistry experiment at the lab gone wrong. In a way, it was. Violet Murray was an enigma, filled with twists and turns, unable to navigate even with the best of compasses, her head always lost in the clouds. Simon did his best to bring her down to the ground every so often so she wouldn't drift away.

The day that they were leaving to pursue higher education, Mr. Murray, Violet's dad, clamped a firm hand on his shoulder, using the same bone-crushing grip that had nearly sprained his wrist the first time he met him, and gazed evenly into his frightened brown eyes hidden behind thick glasses. "Kid, er, Simon...take care of my Vi. I know I've never approved of her best friend being a male, and I've definitely given you a hard time, but..." He trailed off, the both of them glancing at where Violet was loading boxes into the car, laughing with her mom was she went, her head glinting in the sun revealing flashes of purple amidst black hair. "I couldn't have asked for a better friend for my Vi. You're a good kid. Keep her out of trouble. You know what she's like."

"Yes, sir." Simon gulped and wiped away sweat from his forehead with a spare hand, managing a weak smile, and pushing his glasses up his nose. Mr. Murray towered over him, wearing a baseball cap and a hockey jersey. Violet had a matching jersey. He had originally hoped for a son, and it definitely reflected when Violet had learned to play and beat the other boys at school at just about any athletic event by the time she was thirteen. He was disappointed when she started to gain interest in thirteen year old girl things like makeup and boys and dresses, but Violet never truly changed; she was an athlete and sports enthusiast at heart.

After their awkward moment of mutual respect and concern for Violet, they went to go help move boxes of things out of the house and into the car. However, Simon never let go of Mr. Murray's words. He'd always known that he would protect Violet all he could, but now he had a mandate from a man who stood at six feet five inches, so he wasn't exactly about to argue. When she called, he could hear the slight tremor in her voice. He felt something settle in the pit of his stomach, and it wasn't good. She showed up on his doorstep promptly, seventeen minutes later, and he could see her breaking apart.

"Come here," Simon murmured softly, gently enclosing his arms around Violet as she crashed into his chest.

"He broke up with me," Violet said solemnly. "Well, he said he wanted space, and that he'd call me, but isn't that the same thing?" Silent tears dripped down her face and stained his hoodie but Simon didn't mind.

Violet and Garret have been dating on and off for about two years. Every few months or so, she'd come crying to Simon. The next day Garret would woo her back.

"My heart hurts," she whispered, feeling a thousand thorns prickle in her chest cavity.

It's the duty of a close friend to shelter your loved ones when they're hurt, and tell them things they don't want to hear but are honest and vital to understand. He did so when her first boyfriend cheated on her with Kaitlin Wacowski, the new girl from some foreign country at school. He did it when she had invested too much of herself in something and it wasn't working out. But somehow, this felt different. It was the same situation, yet he couldn't find any words to say, your boyfriend is an idiot you should date me instead. He really could've just said that, but at the same time it would've been received the wrong way.

Simon tried. He really tried. He just kept getting caught up in those eyes of her's. Vivid green, crinkling in the corners when she laughed, and light splashes of freckles dotting her face. When her hair tilted at a certain angle, he could see flashes of violet. He closed his eyes and saw her smile, the one that stretched from one side of her face to the other, impossibly wide, showing off her straight teeth. She never needed braces while Simon suffered through four years.

So Simon let her cry on his shoulder. He watched chick flicks with Violet again and again until she fell asleep. Then he would place a blanket over her body and go sleep on the floor. He didn't want to sleep in the same bed as Violet when she already had a boyfriend. His apartment only allowed for enough room to fit one piece of large furniture, so for convenience he used a convertible couch bed. Most nights, Violet would sleep there. Simon wasn't bothered in the slightest. He liked being able to know she was safe.

If only Violet wasn't so oblivious. If only she could see the truth. There were so many times that he wished he could tell her, but something always happened to thwart his plans. When they were seven, he was going to say he liked her pigtails, but Tommy Matherson said it first, and he didn't want to be a copycat. And then at twelve, their first school dance, he'd arrived at her doorstep with a flower to find out she had a date; Aaron Wi-something, he was Welsh and had a long last name. At fifteen, when she was recoiling from a nasty breakup with Aaron Wi-something, and even though her eyes were red and puffy from hours of watching cheesy romcoms and crying, she still looked beautiful to him, but then he'd tripped and sent popcorn flying, making her smile for the first time that month. When they were eighteen and graduating high school, there was nothing more that he'd wanted to say than, I love you, but those three simple words were the most complicated of all to say. Only he was standing in his way now.

"I can cure you, Vi, I know I can." He murmured. The way he saw it, Garrett was no good. He was older, a definite bad boy, and somewhat possessive, hence the confrontation, as if Simon of all people could steal away Violet. In addition, he was studying to be a lawyer. Wasn't there some saying about all lawyers being soulless?

Violet started tossing and turning two hours after she fell asleep.

Simon glanced down at her, asleep, slim figure curled into his arms. It hurt him to know how platonic this simple action was to Violet. They'd done the same when his parents fought and he hid upstairs, and because Violet could hear them from her room in the adjacent house, and she would wave at him from the other window, and he would climb out onto the tree in between their rooms. She had been the comforter, the one to say everything's going to be okay, and now it was his turn.

Simon shifted slowly to move away, feeling the nostalgia creep out of his eyes in liquid form, but Violet started stirring. He quickly stopped moving and she relaxed in his arms. He sighed, mind at unrest, unable to fall asleep.

"When are you going to realize that you belong with me, not him? I'm always here for you. I treat you better than he ever has." Simon's voice breaks and he does too. Over and over and over again. Falling head over heels for her. He would gladly smash his own heart to pieces if it meant fixing Violet's. She was the only thing he cared about in the whole world, he had no family to go to, Violet was his home, and her family always welcomed him as their own. Violet had flaws, of course, but to Simon she was as perfect as perfect could get.