inspired by The Lost Boys because of the lack of Alan Frog
"You never even told me you liked me! You just called whenever you felt like and expected me to pick up!"
The argument from 10 minutes ago in the public eye still ran around in my head with no competition.
"I never told you I liked you because I don't. I hate you. I thought you were hot but now I can see you're just a mega-bitch!"
The things he said 10 minutes ago, however, were hurting me more than the things I said and the lack of meaning behind them. The customers in their little store that late afternoon watched in confusion at what they thought was a little lovers quarrel but little did they know it was a bust-up between some really confused friends.
You see, Alan and I were never actually a thing you know. I mean sure we blew each other sometimes and used each other to learn and experiment with life but that was the limit. There was a bit of making out with a trace of romantics.
Neither of us ever said that there were strings attached nevermind if they could actually be cut by both of us at the exact same time and we were just competing to see whos would break first.
What made my feet kick the street lights of Santa Carla, even more, was the fact that I didn't know all these bad things until today. As far as I knew, things were pretty smooth sailing up to about here...
The phone rings. Pick up.
"You rang?" I sing into the line with a smirk.
I pretend all I want but I knew who was waiting on the other end of that stupid plastic thingy.
"5 minutes. The store. Walk the safe way, it's busy tonight out there."
"If it's busy then how will we-"
And he hangs up.
That's how it went every single time. I'd comply and then...
I don't feel a flicker of pain as I am thrown into a shelf. Books that were once neatly organised now decorated the floor like colourful droplets of shame and a couple even lingered on our shoulders.
He was kissing me fiercely, tongue making the odd appearance making the legs that were trying to hold the rest of my body up fidget and buckle. Though it was rough, passionate, wild and intense my hands never moved from his hair except varying the pressure in my hair pulling depending on how many of those heavenly noises I wanted to hear from him.
The flatline was approaching in our kissing and we moved to the next step. I didn't look for danger on the ground and without a shadow of doubt or anxiousness, I sank to my knees with the sound of a zip and gasp as I take him into my-
You get the gist.
As I think about all of this, the wetness streaming out of my eyeballs contrasts heavily with the droplets threatening to spill out on my underwear making my walk zig-zag along the boardwalk. I looked like another one of those drunk teens that had nothing better to do with their lives.
And, you know what? They were right.
All I wanted to do was feel sorry for myself in the crisp winter air, where the weather should've brought less eager spenders but instead, I found myself with less shoulder than I had before. I didn't know, that could be the day where I was finally alone with no one to talk to for the rest of my teenage years!
