Love Is a Losing Game // Joel Pimentel

5 | Good for You

Chapter Five

Joel's POV

I sigh and plop down on my bed after my school day. It was stressful because we had presentations and we needed to execute them perfectly.

"Ugh," I groan.

I walk over to my desk after scrolling on my phone for a while and pause in my footsteps. On my desk lay Blu's notebook that she always seemed to be doing something in.

My fingers run across the cover and I bite my lip, hoping that she doesn't mind if I take a look. I run my eyes across the pages and realize that they were drawings and doodles of everything and absolutely nothing at the same time.

I stop on one certain drawing and my cheeks flush red. The ink on the page swirled in beautiful curves and edges, making the face I see when I look in the mirror.

Just as I begin to flip to another page I hear the bell ring from downstairs, and shut the notebook. I sigh and walk to the first floor of the house, opening the door without looking in the peephole.

"Hey. Sorry to bother you but I left my notebook here," Blu says tentatively. I shake my head and lead her upstairs, "Don't sweat it."

Our silence seems infinite as she enters my room and grabs the notebook from the desk. She hugs it to her chest and I see her cheeks redden just slightly as she brushes past me in the doorway.

Just as she's about to exit the home, I call out, "Hey, Blu?"

She freezes and turns around just as I take two steps towards her, landing in front of her face. "Your drawings are really good," I smile softly.

Her eyebrows furrow and she takes a step back to make some space between us. "T-thanks," she stutters over her words.

I nod and she takes a breath before meeting my eyes one last time, then leaving the house swiftly.

***

The next day in school is a complete bore and I find myself struggling to pay attention. I sigh and walk into English prepared to get the day over with.

I sit next to Matthews and the teacher announces that we may continue our project in class.

We both pull out our notebooks and it's not until I see her looking around nervously that I notice that other people are glancing at us, curious to what it is that we talk about.

"What's up?" I ask trying to be polite towards her.

She exhales and shrugs, "Just trying to get through today honestly." I laugh gently and nod, "Same. The day has been so boring."

We talk back and forth, our knees slowly turning to touch, making my stomach flutter just the slightest.  Our conversation stops when a random girl I've seen around comes up to us. "I don't get it," she states flatly. I give her a confused look and she elaborates as I do so.

"How someone so ugly can be partnered with a whole king," she snorts.

Despite everything in my body telling me not to laugh, I do anyways and look over to Blu who slumps her shoulders in defeat and turns her body away from mine.

I nudge her and she flinches at my touch, and mumbles something under her breath. "Come on Matthews it's funny," I offer.

She looks at me and I read the expression of embarrassment on her face making my smile falter a bit. "It's not funny when you're the victim of the joke," she sighs.

The ring bells just as I'm about to reply and I breathe out before running a hand across my face.

***

During the next visit, the seventh I believe, four weeks in, she wears ripped jeans with a big Nike sweatshirt. Her feet clad in a pair of Doc Martens.

"Are you okay?"

She tugs on her sleeve nervously and nods, biting her lip. "Yeah," she whispers.

I resist the urge to hug her, caress her, to tell to her that I won't hurt her any longer.

I don't want her to be scared of what I might do.

"Matthews, I'm sorry."

She stays quiet and I sigh.

"It's whatever I guess. It's not like your relationship with me was going to change just because we are working together on a project," she offers.

I open my mouth then quickly close it as I realize there's nothing I could say to help better the situation. Instead, I nod and we go upstairs to continue on the project that was both my favorite part of the day and the worst.

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a/n

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