Jae POV
The first week was fine.
The first week I smiled and laughed and talked to any and everybody. I stopped smoking and drinking. The first week I only cried into the safety of my bedroom pillow. I ignored my cramps and the fact that I wouldn't be a mom anymore. I ignored his calls and texts. I ignored his longing looks and advances in school. I ignored the pain that settled into my heart. I ignored the fact that I felt lonely and incomplete without either of them in my life.
The second week, this week, was significantly different. On Monday of this week, I walked through Howard's front entrance with my signature smirk on my lips and a swing to my hips; but that all changed when I heard the stories. Apparently, Elijah's monthly party this Saturday ended with him fucking this girl in the kitchen. Loudly. My whole mood went from zero to a hundred in a matter of three seconds when I heard these two girls in my Physics class whispering, loudly might I add, about it. They kept sneaking little glances at me which meant their petty asses wanted me to hear them.
That night I pulled back out the weed and smoked a wood to numb the pain.
I don't know why I expected him to keep some shred of loyalty and not fuck another girl less than two weeks after we broke up. It wasn't like he hadn't already proved that he couldn't keep his dick to himself. None of this knowledge made hearing all these people talking about my ex and another girl any easier.
This week the only way I was smiling and laughing and talking was because I was a little high or a little drunk. This week the calls and his longing stares stopped. This week I smoked with 90's R&B music playing in the background, crying my heart out and screaming to the top of my lungs to the soft songs. This week my parents and brothers looked at me questioningly and asked me at least five times a day if I was fine. I know my parents smelt the smoke but this week they ignored it. The amount of weed I was smoking and alcohol I was drinking increased with the more stories I heard and the more girls I saw him with in the halls. There was a new story about his wild nights and a new girl on his arm every day.
I got sick of the fake pitying looks and remarks about half-way through the week and fucked one of the boys on the football team in retaliation because I know he'd rub it all in Elijah's face. He did and I was rewarded with one FaceTime call- which Nae had to physically restrain my drunk ass from answering- before he was quiet again.
I was depressed and crying and a baby alcoholic/junky this week and it was all his fault.
Right now I was sobbing along to We're Not Making Love No More by Dru Hill with Drea and Nae watching me concerned and amusement. I was a complete mess. My hair was all over my head, my eyes were swollen and low from the combination of tears and weed, and I was stumbling all around my room. I was gaining weight too. It wasn't a lot but the slight gut and my fatter cheeks were noticeable to me.
"Are you okay?" Drea asks.
I spin around to her, my head pounding from the action, and frown. A few tears start to spill from my full eyes as I walk over to my bed and sit down. "No," I sob. "I fuckin love that fuckin boy and I know he love me. I miss him guys." I flop back on my bed as Doin Just Fine starts to play. Contrary to the song, I wasn't doing fine at all and I probably wouldn't for awhile.
"Ugh," Renae exclaims half way through the Boys II Men song. The room goes quiet for a few minutes as she switches to City Girls. "I'm sick of all this depressing ass music. Best, you need to hop on yo City Girls shit and stop givin fucks bout these niggas!"
I sit up in the bed, nodding along to her words. "You right. I been crying ova this nut ass nigga for long enough," I reach down to grab my fruity drink. Holding it up in the air I slur loudly, "Fuck these niggas."
