The Beginning of the End

I.

In case you were wondering, no, I wasn't on the set of a new Nicholas Sparks movie. It may have been raining like hell outside, it may have been cold as balls, my soft brown hair may have been matted to my forehead, but there was no Noah-Allison connection going on at the moment.

"I don't want anything right now, JT," Claire stated. "I don't think you're taking it seriously, or, like, you don't realize what a relationship is. Or, you know what I mean."

"No, Claire, I don't. What do you even mean right now? We were going strong two days ago! And now you're throwing this shit at me?! I'm 17, Claire. Nearly an adult. I know what I'm getting into. I want you, babe. I still love you so, so much," I begged. I could have fallen on my knees, but I didn't want to be stared at as if I pissed myself.

"I just—I—I—I don't know! You're making this hard for me, JT! See! This is why we should break up!" she screamed into the neighborhood. Whatever God was planning for me, I felt that I was on a one-way ticket to hell when I died; not only was it raining bullets on my head, but here my girlfriend was having a change of heart toward me.

"What are you even—" I started, but then I realized that the reason we were breaking up all of a sudden was because of a reason why most people at school start fights 25/8 in the hallways in between classes, at lunch, and on the football field.

"Are you cheating on me?"

Oh my God, you don't know how much I wanted to slap her. At that point, I could have had a million counts of abuse against me, and I wouldn't care at all. How dare she tell me straight to my face that I wasn't ready for a relationship! She was the one who needed to check herself. As soon as she didn't respond and started to pick at her nails, I knew that whatever was going to come out of her mouth would be a lie.

I scoffed, slamming my fist playfully on the pole holding up the eaves that spanned the length of her porch. 

"So you are. Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" I questioned. "We were going so strong, Claire! And here you are, throwing this at me? I can't even look at you right now."

"Then don't."

I threw her a glance, rolling my eyes. "Stay away from me," I threw at her. "I come all the way in the rain, Claire. It's forty fucking degrees outside and I'm freezing my ass off. Sure, I got some exercise in after—"

"Look, I don't care. Can you just... can you just go away? I can't talk right—" she started.

"What, are you fucking the guy you're cheating on me with? Is he in your room hiding up there in case your parents come home so they know that you've continued to be 'God's holiest child'? Nice job keeping things discreet, Claire. You're making yourself look like a living stereotype right now. Head cheerleader, playing with the boys and when her ex-boyfriend finds out what she's been doing, he immediately guesses what she's doing with the guy he's been cheated with. Oh, and the ex-boyfriend also happens to be right," I stated, crossing my arms as I talked.

"Oh, ex-boyfriend? Is this what it's come to?" she asked.

I could cut a bitch.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK? Don't even go there, Claire. Stop acting like I'm the bad guy. You know what you've done, so you can stop. Just be straight with me, Claire. Tell me the truth, we can break up, and be on good terms," I said with an obvious bit of persuasion in my voice.

Claire hesitated, still fiddling with her nails. "I have no idea what the hell you're talking about," she said, now slumping against the door frame.

I threw my hands up in the air, reaching for some obviously-not-there dummy with the hope that I could wrap my arms around its throat and choke it to death. I found the nearest plant pot and kicked it over, spilling the soil and stems everywhere.

"Oh, what a shame," Claire said without tone in her voice.

"And what pisses me off even more is that you act like you don't even care, Claire! What happened to the Claire that I loved and was willing to put my life on the line to protect? Did she ever exist, or was she just a ghost of the Claire that I wanted to exist?" I exclaimed. Holy shit, was I about to start crying? I felt that weird bubbly feeling in my chest, making its way to my eyes. I could feel the floodgates having difficulty standing firm against the fresh waves of tears.

"Whaaaaaat...? I've been the same ol' Claire, JT!" she said so unenthusiastically, still picking at those goddamn nails.

"Shut the hell up. Stay away from me," I responded quietly, instantly pulling my hood up and turning on my heel. I hopped off the porch and started to make my way down the pathway. I threw a glance back. The two-story house that belonged to Claire was so beautiful, I guess you could say that I would miss it just a little bit. The outline of a shirtless guy pressed up against the window, looking at me, could vaguely be seen amidst the raindrops. Claire was still standing there, staring at me with fake-ass puppy-dog eyes.

"Thanks for the memories!" I shouted back, voice cracking horribly that I could feel a little pinch in my throat. "Now I'm going to spend the rest of my day thinking how to erase them from my memory!"

"Good luck!" she responded. What a douche.

As I turned the corner to walk back to my house, I was so overwhelmed that I practically could have found a puddle on the side of the street and forced my face into it so I could drown. Pathetic, right?

And I guess my wish did come true a little bit. That clichéd moment where a car rounds the corner and splashes a shitload of water onto you happened, and before I knew it, my clothes were hanging loosely off of my hips and shoulders. It stuck so tightly to my clothes, and I was shivering like a freak.

I heard another vroom of a car engine. Forgetting everything that had happened, I ducked down, placing my hands over my head as if an earthquake was happening. But the splash of water never hit me.

"Get in, JT. I'll take you home," said the rough and uneven voice of my best friend, who I could tell had just gotten out of bed.

And that was the story of how my mostly-optimistic-self smiled once in a single day.

"Of course," I chuckled, flashing my teeth as I grabbed the freezing car-door handle and pulled, stuffing myself into the heated car. My friend, Shaun, rolled the windows up and turned the volume dial. "Champion" by Kanye started blasting from the stereo.

Now the funny thing about Shaun's old and beat-up car was that when he got "Graduation" for his birthday, he immediately inserted it into the CD slot in the car. It was all he wanted to hear because the music that he heard on the radio was "complete shit." And I'm not saying I fully agree or disagree with him. But there a was a time, where I entered his car, and his face showed complete shock and terror.

"This is the end, JT. I'm screwed, I'm screwed, I'm screwed. 'Graduation' got stuck in the car, and it only plays 'Champion' on repeat," he worriedly told me.

And as the rain began to fall and "Champion" began to play for the third time, I suddenly realized we had been rounding the block for minutes. I could have been home in a minute, tops, but I knew why Shaun was doing this.

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked, knowing what the response would be.

"I know something's wrong, JT. Spill the information to me, or we'll round the corner for the thirteenth time, and yes, I've been counting," he stated, knuckles paling as he turned the wheel so the car would as well.

Typical Shaun.

"Um, so, it's all about Claire, since I was at her house and—" I started.

"She broke up with you. Cheating, I'm guessing, considering  the tear stains on your cheeks."

His way of detecting whatever had happened to me made more and more convinced we were twins because of that telepathy shit that twins have. But whatever.

"Yeah, I feel you, JT. But I guess I have to show you some sympathy, so I guess what I want to say is... I'm sorry," he said, pulling up to my house, which was almost identical to all the other ones in the neighborhood.

"Text me later if you wanna talk," he stated, reaching past my crossed arms and opening the car door. I nodded and walked away, closing the door behind me, the sound of 'Champion' still fresh in my ears.