***WATTPAD FEATURED STORY***
In order to forgive, you must forget, and the only way to do that is to distract yourself with the present, throw away the past, and keep your eyes steady on the future.
authors note┋i know that i posted a message saying i had no chapters ready for uploads, but life is full of surprises - so here's a little post (: i had time to edit and find a cute song too, so please leave as many comments and votes as possible as a thank you, if you feel like it ❤️
dedication┋to @Mahdawi7 for leaving me the sweetest pm in the planet and being such a lovely supporter ❤️
song + image┋WE DON'T TALK ANYMORE by Charlie Puth ft Selena Gomez
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EVANESCENT (adj.) vanishing quickly, lasting a very short time
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THE FIRST THING THAT took place while riding in the car alone with Weston Lloyd was silence.
Silence, thick as a wedding cake but nowhere near as decadent, filled the newly bought and fresh linen scented car. Silence coated my lungs and forced me to stay mute. Silence drive a barrier between our hearts and remained solid as a brick wall, refusing to move to even the heaviest of pushes.
"Can I turn on music?" It was the first attempt to break it, done by myself with a voice like a frog.
Weston barely moved. "No."
I pursed my lips, letting the silence continue for a few more miles until we hit a stop light. "Are you hot? Can I turn on the air?"
This time Weston didn't speak, but flicked on the air so that the cool burst of AC smacked me abruptly in the face.
I hated this. I hated what we had become in little over a year. Just before we were the best of friends and possibly almost lovers, and now we could hardly hold a conversation. It hurt to think about how much Weston despised me, but I knew deep down that I deserved it. The things that I did could never be forgiven or forgotten, and that's just the end of the story.
When you really truly think about it, who do you think wrote out story? Sure there's the spiritual version - God - but is it possible that we ourselves wrote our story? To me, that's how it went down. It feels like someone blindfolded me and told me to throw my hands together and come up with a life for myself, and the result ended up being a mess - a complete and utter mess that smacked me hard in the face and left me lying down on the ground.
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JUNIOR YEAR SHOULD'VE BEEN a breeze.
It should've been all parties and pranks and laughter and fun, and at first it sort of was. Our friend group became as tight as ever - Gen stopped picking on Elora, Elora and Haden began a sweet romance, and things were slowly beginning to heat up between Weston and I. It was the perfect year, and nearly took the cake as my favorite.
