B. Loski's Point of View
"Naomi! Naomi!" I called out, running for her. I reached out and grabbed Naomi's hand. She spun around, ripping her hand out of mine. Tears streamed from the girls eyes.
I did that? To her? What the hell is wrong with me? I hurt her. The person I care about most.
"Don't touch me Bryce! Do not fucking touch me! Okay? Don't talk to me, don't come to my house, don't call! Don't do anything! I want nothing to do with you!" She cursed, her words laced with sadness and anger. Which made my heart ache.
I was taken aback, not able to say anything. I took a deep breath, "Naomi-" I started, still needing to find the words. However, she cut me off. "No, Bryce. I don't want to hear it! I don't want to hear your bullshit excuse! What the hell did I do to make you resent me so much?"
"I- I don't resent you!" I argued. Naomi clenched her jaw, "Then Why? Why did you say those things!" I thought momentarily. I don't know! Because I'm a fucking idiot! Because I wanted to fit in! What the hell is your issue you idiot!
"I don't know!" I confessed, angrily. Naomi's tears continued to spill from her eyes, "Do you know what this does to a person? To have someone you care about completely build you up and then tear you down? Imagine everything you don't like about yourself.. and then having the person you care about think those things too! And to tell other people!"
Fuck, she's right. Holy shit, I'm a terrible person. I'm a piece of scum. She should just punch me. She should just hit me, I deserve it. I'm such a tool. I stuttered, "Naomi, please.. I'm sorry! I'm so so sorry! You don't understand how terrible I feel."
Naomi's brows knitted together, "How terrible you feel? How terrible you feel? Give me a break." She shook her head at me, "Just leave me alone Bryce. I don't need this right now and I definitely don't need you." She spoke harshly.
Naomi took a deep breath before turning away from me and walking away. "Where are you going?" I asked. Naomi didn't even turn back, "Anywhere but here!"
I don't resent her. I care about her. I'm such a baby. You don't just care about her. You love her, you idiot! You love her! You knew it this whole time too! Why do you have to be such a- a- I don't know! Why am I such a terrible person, especially to Naomi. The girl who has stuck by my side, the girl I love! I love her! I fucking love her! I'm in love with her!
And now she's gone. And I caused it myself. Who is that self destructive?
—
N. Hanson's Point of View
My heart ached, so bad that it turned into actual physical pain. My eyes burned, both from how many times I've wiped them and how many tears I've shed.
I fumbled with unlocking the front door, probably cause I couldn't even see the lock. Eventually, I got it open and immediately ran to my room. I plopped down at the edge of my bed.
My eyes glared mindlessly at the floor. God, you are such an idiot. A clueless idiot. He never cared about you. Why would you have thought that? You are such a child. Get over yourself. You could've never been with him.
Look at you. Pathetic.
My eyes filled with tears again and my hands flew over my face. Muffled sobs left my mouth, tears streaming from my eyes.
"Naomi? Naomi, are you okay?" I heard my mother's voice call out. I wiped my eyes quickly and looked up to the door. My mother opened the door and peered her head in, "Home early from the dance."
I nodded slowly. My mother stepped into my room and looked down at me, "You okay sweetie?" She asked, her voice sympathetic and soft. I took a deep breathe and shook my head, "No."
My mother sat down beside me and threw an arm over me, "Oh god, honey. What happened?" She asked. I sniffled, "It doesn't matter."
"Was it a boy?" She questioned. I sighed, "What would you say if it was?" I looked up at my mother. She rubbed my shoulder, "Id say 'You deserve the world and you're going to find the one some day. But now you're one heartbreak closer to that.' But, your father would say, 'What did he do? Who is he? I'm going to kill him for hurting my daughter.'"
I chuckled a little, swiping my tears off my cheeks, "I'll be okay. I always figure it out." My mother laughed lightly, "Yeah, you do. You're a fighter like that."
Jesus, am I though?
[a/n]
im sorry to do this to you.
