**Completed** Cole Galloway has always had just enough of an ego to believe that the women falling at his feet were deserved. With an abundance of charm and looks to die for, who wouldn't want him?
Wynona Caldwell. That's who.
When Cole sets his s...
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Wynn
I'm not quite sure why I continue to torture myself by staying here. Watching Cole dancing with Colby—it's eating me up inside. My stomach rolls and flip-flops with every laugh and smile they share between them.
I'm so jealous, I can taste it.
Deep down, I know I shouldn't have come in the first place. But selfishly, I wanted to see him, and I knew it would be safe, as Harris wouldn't deign to be around all of this chaos.
It's wrong for me to resent Colby as I do. Heck, I practically shoved them toward one another. Even worse is the fact that she asked me if I could ever see myself with him. I lied, of course, telling her he's just a friend.
The truth is, nothing has ever felt more right than being with him. That has to become a distant memory though, relegated to my past for both of our sakes.
The two of them have been carrying on for a while, and I haven't taken my eyes off of them. They deserve the height of happiness, but if they choose to be together, I don't know if I'll be able to handle it.
And it'll be my own fault.
I know that my feelings right now are completely off base, so I work desperately to tamp down the bitterness forming against my best friend. She doesn't know the story of Cole and me. Nobody does.
Still, I also recognize that Colby holds out hope for reconciliation with Wyatt and that only serves to amplify my irritation toward her. Wyatt is to her what Cole is to me, only they could be together! There's no Montague/Capulet style war brewing between their families.
I've always thought reconciliation was the inevitable outcome for those two, but they stubbornly refuse, continuing to drift further and further from one another.
In a perfect world, Wyatt and Colby would find their way back to the bliss they once shared, and I could make Cole mine without fear of the repercussions. Too bad that's not how life works. I sip on my coke, continuing to watch while the scene unfolds before me.
The alternate version of what should be.
I roll my eyes at my drunken classmates as they make complete fools of themselves, speaking at an elevated volume with glazed-over eyes. The house smells like skunk, which means there's got to be a treasure trove of pot somewhere, and I feel like I'm already suffering from the effects secondhand. The pungent odor alone makes my head throb in protest.
Amazing how I, the so-called wild child of North High, am the one alone, pressed to the wall with only a soda in hand.
"Wynona Caldwell. You're too pretty to be a wallflower," says a male voice in greeting. I'd know his voice anywhere. I've only been listening to him talk about himself since kindergarten.
Ari Castillo.
"Why don't you get out on that dance floor and give me a spin around it?" he urges with a wily grin, waggling his eyebrows in encouragement. He'll be a lifelong friend, I'm convinced, and while he may be a douchebag, I can't deny that he knows how to make my mood a little lighter.
