Opposites: The Staff of Light [Book One]

26. The History

Tyler

There were absolutely too much that happened that day. My brain had a hard time only to process the thing going about all around me. For once, I thought breaking up with Rebecca was a good thing... and it was. Seriously, though, I have too many things to clarify. I blame Rebecca for complicating this whole situation, may the gods curse her.

First of all, Rebecca and I weren't even a couple, so technically, we never broke up. That so-called 'promise' she'd mention was something we had. She promised me she'd never find another boy better than me, that she wouldn't find another boy to love. I promised the same.

Over time, I slowly had a vantage point: she didn't love me anymore. A normal person wouldn't really realize, but if you knew her from the start and courting her, you'd see that as quick, and it feels like a bus when you impenetrably got hit. Slowly, very slowly, her attitude was changing. She started hanging out with her new friends and altogether, they looked like monkeys who got themselves an entire drawer of make-up. I couldn't explain every situation, but as far as my knowledge found, Rebecca showed off her true colors, revealing to me she'd never loved me, and that she was taking me for granted, grabbing hold of the advantages she could find with me.

Though, at first, I tried to nag these opinions out of my head. Who told you she didn't love me? I'd end up asking myself, being the optimist I am. She loves me, I know she does, she's just being sociable. That one day—the last day I was in school—I caught her kissing this other football player at school... I was speechless. For once, my positive little heart popped a few wires, possibly overheated, and I had no idea what to do.

I remembered the way she looked so desperate to be loved by me—the way she'd looked me in the eye, then I'd cup her cheek—then suddenly compared that to the memory I saw when she had kissed Ken—frantic lips, a tongue searching through the athlete's mouth... something I didn't want at all. I never asked for that, neither did I want her to use me like a toy. It seemed as if I dodged a bullet.

During that long kiss when I stayed paralyzed at the other end of the corridor, watching their silhouettes move against the light, thrusting bodies as lust and desire pulled them together. They seemed to dance in the most sexual way I couldn't even describe. And for sure, I was there, staring at the girl I liked making out with some other muscular boy who played on the school's football team.

"Stop, babe, please" I remembered her whisper, her eyes closed, but her new lover still eager to continue such a long kiss. I shouldn't even be watching, I thought, this feels so wrong. But a part of me knew I should be, like I was made to be there. Ken continued to kiss her, his hand digging into her hip. "K-ken—" he kissed her once more with an open mouth—"Tyler will be here at any moment a-and you should leave—"

"Oh, there's no need to," my voice echoed from across the hall. "I saw that kiss. I waited for you, Rebecca. I waited for you to stop. Now it's as if I waited for a love show to end. Have fun with your new lover. You might spend the night with him—well, it's not like I care. It's over. I should have known."

I turned around to make my way out the hall, exit the school, and rush home. But as I did so, a hit landed at the back of my head and I landed face-first into the floor. "YOU SPIED ON US?" Ken roared in anger, picking me up by the collar and punched my left cheek. My face went numb as he plopped my weak body back on the floor. I pulled myself up, but he landed another punch on my chest which sent me reeling back against a wall. He still held me by the collar, punching my ribcage, stomach, chin and face with consecutive hits.

"Ken, baby, please, stop!" Rebecca cried, hugging the sports player from the back. "That's enough for him! We'll be in trouble."

He dropped me once more. "I'll be back for you, Dirtbag." I received another kick in the stomach as I heard footsteps from afar, faltering. The two of them left me behind, injured. I rolled to my side, reached out a hand and felt my face. Still in one piece, I thought. That's a good sign for you, face. I then felt blood oozing from my nostrils. Funny, when I was a little kid, I wanted flames to flare out my nostrils like a dragon of some sort. Thanks to Ken I got what I wanted—only it's blood, not fire.