Living Short in Bel Air (Completed 2013)

ChapteЯ 21: Team Bagel

ChapteЯ21: Team Bagel

“You’re not Driz,” he repeated. 

“No. Shit.”

Profanity flew out of my mouth, it creating a barrier to mask my heartbroken face.  What the hell was that supposed to mean?  ‘You’re not Driz?’ 

Clint looked to my female companion, then back at me.  His lips twisted with disappoint.  “I’m sorry,” he spoke.  A hint of guilt flickered in his eyes.  “I didn’t know you were Ly-a—I thought you were Driz.” 

A sudden crack of depression shattered my heart.  The kiss meant nothing to him.  It was all a mistake.

The crushing realization cut right into my soul, breaking the barrier until I found myself speechless. 

“Clint,” growled Jeff. 

I felt the ground shake as he stormed over.  I shut my eyes, bracing to hear his fist collide across Clint’s face.

But I heard nothing.  Opening my eyes, I was stricken by surprise.  Jeff held back.  Lethal, he simply locked menacing gazes with him. 

Why wasn’t he fighting? 

Why wasn’t he kicking Clint’s balls with steel toe boots? 

Why wasn’t he turning into a werewolf so he could eat him?  THAT’S RIGHT.  If I was a god damn werewolf, I wouldn’t be searching for a 100 years to find my mate.  I would go ape-shit crazy and then EAT someone.  EAT SOMEONE.

Well, that’s what I would fucking do. 

Especially if that someone broke my heart.       

It was silent for a very long time.  Tension loaded the air on our shoulders, the sound of breathing the single noise heard. 

Disgusted, Jeff shook his head.  “You’re sick, Clint,” he spat.  Then walked off. 

Clint stared into the space where my friend previously was. 

His emotions were all a blur.  Deciphering them was impossible.  Soon, Driz had risen and now stalked right up to my nose.  Tears leaked at the rims of her soft eyes, and I realized this was Driz, the hopeless romantic that was fragile as glass.  “How could you?” she said. 

Her words stung like a wasps on a babies bottom.  My apology remained mute, and I watched as she walked off as well. 

With a lump in my throat, I swallowed hard, and turned to the man who was last.  His expression was kept blank, bottling his emotions.  I was desperate to understand what was going on in that messed up mind, but perhaps I had gone crazy. 

He never mentioned liking me.  Not bothering to cover my feelings, I flushed out the swelling heartbreak over my attributes.  My bottom lip trembled.  He had been playing.  His flirting reactions weren’t real. 

Driz was the girl he wanted.  Not lil ol’ Ly-a. 

Chin held high, I spun off and left Clint alone, in the darkness, where callous boys like him belonged. 

‡‡‡‡‡

I woke up, eyes burning from the river of tears I had produced moments ago.  Lying in bed, I now understood why heartbreak was so damn painful.  It killed every bit of your happiness until you were cold, dead, helplessly alone without a hint of life in your breath. 

Yes, I’ve been watching sappy romance movies.  That explains the mountain full of tissues sitting on my bed. 

My best friend hated me.  The guy I liked was disappointed and never meant to kiss me.  My other friend didn’t eat Clint. (Yes.  I was still holding him against that.)  And my dog got so annoyed by my pathetic midnight sobs, he started sleeping with my mom.