The Story I Never Published

prologue

6 years ago

"Please?" I begged. I pleaded in front of the boy whom I loved and who once loved me, "S-Skye..."

"Quinn, I'm sorry," he told me as he tried to remove my hands that are tightly wrapped around his for  I don't  want him to leave, "this isn't right," adding before leaving me and my shattered-to-pieces heart.

• • •

"How could I ever move on from this breakup, Ian?" I asked as I twitched my index and middle fingers together, quoting 'breakup'.

I took a sip from my coffee, cold as ever, before turning my attention back to the man before me.

"What did really happen that night?" He asked, carefully, trying not to pressure me harder, I could tell, "what did happen between the two of you that made him leave?"

"I-I don't know," I replied stuttering, "all I knew was that I told him that I've missed him..." I paused.

"What did he say, Quinn?" He asked, carefully eyeing my teary eyes. He clearly doesn't want to see his friend cry once more.

"He... He told me that we should stop," I continued as a tear escaped from my eye, "he didn't want to take the next step."

He didn't speak. Even though he wanted to hug me badly, he didn't. He wished to let my emotions and depression out.

I smiled, "funny, you think?" I wiped the tear, "funny how I gave my whole self to someone who doesn't even want to risk theirs for me," I laughed again, this time voice cracking was heard.

He couldn't take it. He hugged me tightly as I cried my eyes out.

Again.

"Shh," he whispered into my ear, "if he cannot see you, he's not worth it."

• • •

5 years ago

Maybe I oversaw it. Or maybe I just took things way to easily and too fast that he himself couldn't keep up? Maybe, huh?

Why is that every time a person, male or female, comes out of a relationship there is always that one person that is left hanging? Whether hanging with questions or with expectations, one is bound to get hurt. Is that how cruel the world is now?

"Earth to Quinnzel?" A loud voice was heard from my left ear, disturbing me from my thoughts, "are you okay?" The voice asked.

I pushed the thoughts once again at the back of my mind to deal with later on. I turned my gaze to the person calling out to me. It was my best friend.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I smiled, "what is it that you want, Pandora?"

"I was asking you if you're going to prom," she made the 'duh' expression which made me roll my eyes, "what? You're not going again?" She asked—no, asking would be an understatement. She sort of yelled at me.

"You know how anti-social I can get," she pouted her lips at my remark, "don't give me that look, Jensen. It won't work." I grabbed my textbooks then closed my locker.

"You have a boyfriend. I don't. You have a partner. I don't. What's there to anticipate?" I gave a sly smile then eventually left.

Math class started as usual; me going in first then all the other students follow after a few minutes. I took my regular seat, fourth row from the front and first seat from the left. I sit in the middle row, since the classroom is a multileveled room, like the big lecture rooms you see in movies.

As I was jotting down notes of the lesson, I felt someone whisper, "hey, girl in the navy blue sweater."

I looked around, searching for the owner of the voice. And no, I'm not assuming that it was me. I just happen to be the only person here to wear a sweater, specifically in a navy blue color.

Eventually, I located the person who called me. He was just three seats away from me, counting the empty seat beside me.

"Anyone sitting there?" He mouthed, eyeing the empty chair. I nodded and surprisingly he transferred seats, "hi," he whispered.

I didn't answer and just gave him a questioned stare.

"I'm Dawn. Dawn Cortez," he whispered, smiling and reached his hand out for a handshake, which I gladly took.

"I'm—" I was cut-off from my introduction when my surname was announced.

"Miss Huxley?" My professor called out. Oh shit, "what's the answer?"

"572," I answered, then sat down right away. My professor smiled, telling me that it was correct, then proceeded with her discussion.

As she was discussing, I was busy writing down a small letter in a spare piece of paper. I slid it over to Dawn's part of the desk. He mouthed "what's this?" and I just shrugged my shoulders off.

He opened the letter, revealing the text: Find me after school if you wanna know my name.

I know it's stupid to write that letter but I have no regrets because it took me to where I am now.

In New York, U.S.A.