All My Heart [Justin Bieber]

Chapter 25: I'm Not Gonna Cry

Melody

This is it. This is the final day of highschool.

It's not even a full day, we're all signing yearbooks, and hugging, crying, laughing, and I want to cry.

Justin's hand is laced into mine, everybody keeps saying we're the perfect couple. I had to admit I thought so, too.

"Babe, you need help clearing out your locker?" Justin asked, kissing my ear.

I smiled back at him, the jocks calling him over to go do one last round of hockey before they leave the school for good. 

"No. Go have fun. I'll meet you there when I'm done." I tell him, and he presses his lips to mine before running off with his friends.

"Melody . ." A voice says from my right, and I turn automatically.

"Farah." I say blankly, and she sniffles. She has no make up on, and her hair is a stringy mess, her eyes are puffy, and her nose red.

I stiffle a laugh. "You look terrible." I say wholeheartedly, and she nods. all the schools eyes are on us, and I feel like I'm gonna cry.

"Thanks . . Really means a lot." She said, and we share a laugh quickly.

This is the girl who took your Dad.

"I heard your with the hockey captain. Good job." She said, and I nod.

My consious glares at me, ready to fight Farah. "Are we okay?" She asked, her laughing halted.

"Absolutely not." I tell her quietly, shaking my head. Farah nods,

"I get it. I know you have zero tolerance for me, and I get that, too. I would probably be punching myself in the face. But I have a lot of respect for you, and everybody else does, too. My mom took your side even. My dad . . he just left. My brother, Daniel, he told me he would've punched me . . They all hate me." She said, her voice breaking, and for a moment, I wanted to hug, and comfort her, and it was hard not to. 

"Farah. Stop." I told her, and she wiped her eyes. "You're a terrible friend and we're never going to be friends again. I know you know it, too. I just- I can't forgive you for something like this! You took, and took, and took, and I can't afford for you to take anything else! I will most likely never ever forgive you, or my dad . . I got accepted into Fine Arts in Florida . . In America. I'm taking it, and-" I get stopped by Farah smiling hugely,

"I'm really happy for you! You've been wanting that since-"

"Since Mom. I know." I say, and she nods.

"Farah! Cheerleader's final photo!" A squeaky voiced brunette calls, and Farah leans in for a hug, but I shake my head, and she just extends her hand, and I shake it.

"Strangers with memories." She says, and she quotes my favorite book once again. I nod. "Bye, Stranger." She says, and runs off. I turn back to my locker, the one I've had since freshman year.

***

I empty out the last of my locker. Pictures, stickers, and my many notepads fill a box. I feel like I've just been fired from a job, as I spin my lock combination for the very last time, ready to say goodbye to high school for good, not just for a weekend.

It's a bittersweet feeling, as I look at the photos I put in the box. How my hand writing under- and in the back of them has changed so much. I grew up in this place. Leave my teen years, I start something new. Adulthood.

Four years, wow time flew. It feels like yesterday I was a lost freshman in these halls.

I think I'm gonna miss it.

Long night awake doing homework, blonde cheerleaders smacking their gum in my face, and cheesy lines from the jocks.

Nah, not really.

Old friends may just stay memories, and I may never speak to them again.

We sign yearbooks with big hearts, and put our best grown up signature, making sure there is emphasis on 'Senior Year'.

I feel knots in my stomach, as I hug some people I wish I knew better, but knowing it's way too late for that.

We pinky promise to keep in touch, and hug till I feel like bawling.

Can I do this?

C'mon! We've been planning on flying out of this place since we entered!

It seems harder than I thought it would be.

A group of people want pictures, and signatures from me, some that I really didn't know well, but they seemed to know me.

I obliged, never getting this much attention. We kissed cheeks, and hugged.

I took my box, and yearbook that was overflowing with signatures. I smiled, making my way to the Gym where my man awaited.

I giggled at myself, and made my way to the hockey rink.

"Hey, Melody!" Erin said, and I smile waving.

"Hey, Babe!" Justin calls, and it distracts him, so Erin dominated the puck.

"Deja vu." I mutter, thinking back where Justin still liked Farah. I shudder at the memory, and focus on Justin's playing.

"I'm glad you and JB are together. I didn't think we really clicked. You make him happy." A voice that belongs to Sam says, and I look up giving him a weak smile, before my eyes go wide.

"You cut your hair! And died it?" I said, noticing the spiked up dark hair.

He nodded, leaning back. From the corner of my eye, Justin glanced up at us. "I'm starting fresh." He said, and I laughed.

"Everything's changed since this year." He told me, and I nodded.

"You can say that again." 

"Everything's chang-" I cut him off.

"I didn't mean literally." I glared, and he faked surprise.

"Well, I'm gonna go after I sign your yearbook, because your boyfriend is mad-dogging me." He rolled his eyes, and I handed him it, he looked shocked at how there was no room to sign. "I didn't know you were this popular."

"Gee, thanks Sam."

"Only for you." He gave me a charming smile, and all I could think was Justin's was better.

He found his name, and scribbled his name, with a big heart. I laughed, and signed his quickly. "Bye, Melody."

"Bye, Sam. Have a great life."

He nodded, "Back at ya."

 ***

"Ready, Mel?" Justin wiped his forehead with a towel, and leaned to kiss me. I obliged, and kissed him back, craning my neck as he deepned it.

His hand cupped the back on my neck, as our tongues wrestled. "I have a graduation present for you." He said, but still continuing the kiss, our lips smacked together.

I made an awkward hmmmm sound, and he laughed, biting my lip, and pulling away. I glared, and he helped me up. I smiled up at him, he had already changed back into his clothes, and he handed me his jersey, with his last name on it.

I smile. "Put it on. I want them to know you're mine."  He says, and slips it over my head.

"It's huge." I say, as it hangs.

"Cute." He says, stopping me, and pushing me against the wall. 

"Mine." He says, and I nod. "Yours."