Memory Lane

Part 15: Glass Heart

"If you stare at her any harder, you're going to burn holes through her shirt."

I brushed off Evan's words. Good. Maybe your boyfriend will finally know about the things you do at night. I glanced at your high-neck crop top, feeling quite smug about the marks underneath the fabric.

Last night, I got carried away and kissed a more visible area of your body in a fit of passion. I hadn't realized the damage done until we stood side by side and faced the bathroom mirror. A dark purplish line of hickeys trailed from your neck to your collarbone. It reflected the ones you left on my chest, my skin aching with love bites.

Your face went white with fear. I apologize half-heartedly, barely feeling a single ounce of regret for what I had done. I had the way you sounded when I made that kiss immortalized in my brain. The most beautiful orchestras could not compare.

But I digressed. I still had the sense to be scared that I crossed a line. The way you ignored me today was colder than it had been last week. You had put extra effort into pretending that I was a speck of dust, nearly bumping into me like I was a piece of furniture placed in the wrong area.

Or were you punishing me in some other way, brushing against my arm in the hallway?

My eyes trailed to your jeans, and I couldn't help but smile. My marks were under there too, prominent against the pale skin of your thighs. You were still adamant about ignoring me, pressed against Harry's chest as you removed a piece of lint from his hair.

I looked away as you shared a quick kiss with him. That was the difference between Harry and me. You could be in public with him and not be shamed for it. You liked having a boyfriend and the boost in popularity that came with it. He was handsome, masculine, and desirable.

Nothing like me.

I was a step away from ugly. If you were with me, people would ask what was wrong with you. It would have been different if I was hot. You would have abandoned him if I was pretty enough.

Unattractive as I was, I was sick of being in the dark. At first, sharing this secret with you was exciting. It felt like we were friends again, hands linked as we explored the woods at night. But we weren't children anymore.

My body was changing. You developed early, your curves coming in at fourteen and swelling at fifteen. But I was seventeen when my body stopped looking like a bag of sticks. You didn't notice this, at least I didn't think you did. I still hid behind dark baggy clothes so the world didn't know.

You have to forgive me. I couldn't read your feelings at the time. I thought the universe was against me. So I tried to make you jealous.

It was petty, I know. I thought my friendship with Evan already accomplished this. But you never looked at us in that way. Even as I was getting closer to him, it hardly mattered to you.

I wanted to love. It wasn't a selfish thing, but I did think so at the time. I thought I only deserved the little you could give me.

So my eyes wandered. In hindsight, it was weird trying to find a girlfriend at school. I didn't have much in common with anyone we had class with. But I couldn't help but look at the girl with caramel skin and gold hoops, wondering if we had a future together.

Because I was certain you were going to abandon me. It made sense. If all you felt for me was lust, at some point you were going to get bored of sharing a bed with me. And I kept thinking about how easy it would be for you to find a replacement, someone socially acceptable and good at physically pleasing you.

So I started looking at Ariel. Other boys did too. A couple even tried asking her out with no success. I thought she was better than all of them.

It was quite stupid of me. I didn't know she liked girls until she started looking back at me, but even then, I wondered if it was in a friendly way.