Life At Its Finest (Brother's Bestfriend)

The Best of My Valentine

A rose came on Valentines day. Only one, but a note at my door layed behind it. I've seen that handwriting before.

The note was as short as the last one, but one word longer. And it irritated me. I hated surprises, I hated mysteries. Which is ironic because Conrad was such a damn mystery.

'I still love you.'

And I wanted so badly for it to be him. Maybe he had remembered me? Maybe he loved me as I loved him. But it was stupid. I was, once again, giving myself false hope, and the thought of Conrad was murdering me.

I just wanted him to give me my life back.

I brought in the rose with frustration and threw it away. I didn't bother to wait for it to die. I didn't want to see it. I wanted it gone. And the note, I read only once. Exhausted of more problems. The air was freezing and the gloomy cold sky beat me up, yelling at me to feel worse.

The note went into the trash along with the rose.

With nothing more to do I returned to my studying, the only thing I had the energy to do.

Mary called a week prior and I told her everything. Like a best friend does, she listened and wanted only to come over and treat me to a girls weekend. But I said no because I wanted only to be alone and work on school. With all advanced classes I had no choice but to make things easier by locking myself up in my room and work.

Xavier was out with Carol for Valentines. Mason called me and asked me over, I wanted to but I didn't. He knew I was about to say no so he put his mother on the phone. Hearing her familiar voice was making me feel a little lighter. I would be going over there for dinner.

I had applied to many colleges, and Kings was one of them. Oxford was another. But it was a long shot. So far there were a lot that sent back meeting dates. I didn't know what I was doing but Mr. Lyle helped me out with it. He and I became good friends, but nothing more.

Studying wasn't doing anything for me anymore, and I went to my art room. I was digging through paintings and blank canvas', searching for it. A corner it disappeared to. "What the hell..." I muttered to myself.

The painting of Conrad was gone.

I trashed my entire painting room searching for it, throwing down others, opening and closing my large cases of old paintings. It was gone, completely gone.

"Where is it?!" I shouted to myself, my hands clutched tightly to my hair, the strands tugging at my scalp forcing me to breathe carefully before I had an anxiety attack.

It was gone. But maybe I had thrown it away when I was angry at him, maybe I had. Wouldn't I have remembered? Or even spilled something on it and thrown it out, or accidentally. As crazy as it made me, I forced myself to drop it and dressed for dinner at the Infinite's.

I had on a red velvet dress. It was simple, fitting me snugly around my torso but flowing out at my waist, stopping a few inches after mid thigh. I felt lovely for the first time in a while.

I've always been confident and comfortable. I stood in the doorway of my closet, remembering how Conrad had once stood before me, holding my towel in his hand not once leaving my eyes. He told me I was beautiful that day.

I didn't allow myself to continue on thinking about it and slipped on black flats with a bow at the top. My hair the usual crazy mess, but I wore mascara. It had become a habit for me now. I liked it.

Before going to Mason's I went to the store to pick up some pastries.

And I was beginning to be excited to see Mason.