My first crush (COMPLETED)√

PART 2: Chapter 75: Facing the bitch 2

Aaron's POV

"Dude... pass me the drink," Ryan slurred, his words thick and unfocused as he sprawled across the couch.

Aaron tossed him the bottle. "Here. And get a hold of yourself, man. You're already wasted."

Ryan laughed, taking a long swig before wiping his mouth.
"Who cares? Hand me a cigarette too." He paused, squinting. "Wait... what about that chick? I don't see her around."

⸻

Sharon's POV

I stepped out of the car, the gravel crunching beneath my shoes. I shot Stephen a firm look — the kind that said stay put — because I knew him. He had a habit of barging in where he wasn't welcome.

He rolled his eyes dramatically. "Fine."

I approached the door, easing it open just enough to peek inside. The smell of alcohol and smoke spilled out immediately. Aaron sat among his friends, laughter loud, voices careless.

I stayed hidden, listening.

Ryan was asking about me.

⸻

Inside

"What chick?" Aaron scoffed. "You know I've got plenty."

The words hit like a slap — sharp, unexpected.

Ryan chuckled. "That girl — Sharon, right? The one in that video. Thought she was your girl. Haven't seen her."

Aaron leaned back, swirling his drink lazily.
"I know her better than you do. She's a crybaby. She'll come running back to me soon enough."

Their laughter filled the room — careless, mocking.

"I bet you two went at it nonstop," Ryan teased.

Aaron laughed louder. "Trust me — way wilder than anything you've seen on TV."

⸻

Outside

Each word shattered something inside me.

Anger.
Embarrassment.
Disappointment.

They tangled together until breathing felt heavy. I staggered back, my vision blurring, and sank to my knees. Tears spilled despite my effort to stay silent, my hand covering my mouth to choke the sobs.

I had believed him.
Believed he was different.
Believed he cared.

But love — or whatever I'd called it — had blinded me.

Warm arms suddenly wrapped around me.

I turned and saw Stephen. The concern in his eyes broke whatever restraint I had left, and I cried harder.

"I told you this would hurt," he murmured gently. "Let's go."

"No..." I shook my head. "I'm not leaving. I need to ask him why."

"You'll only humiliate yourself," he said quietly.

"I don't care. Wasn't I already a fool?"

"You're not," he replied firmly, helping me to my feet. "Stop telling yourself that. Not tonight."

He guided me back toward the car, steady and patient.

My phone rang — Dad.

"Yeah... we're on our way," I said, forcing steadiness before hanging up.

Stephen glanced at me. "You sure you still want to go?"

"Yes." I wiped my face. "I'm not letting this ruin my night."

A small smile touched his lips. "That's what I hoped you'd say."

I hesitated, voice softer.
"Stephen... am I really a crybaby?"

He groaned dramatically.
"Not this again."