Broken Promises

10 | noah

I can't focus.

No matter what I try thinking about, I can't concentrate on it. Though I have my phone in hand, I can't seem to keep my gaze on the screen. My eyes choose to roam around my room, my mind elsewhere. I should be enjoying my free time, as this is the first time I've been home alone since moving. No deadbeat dad. No chatty Caroline. Just me, myself, and I.

The only time I've had to myself in days and, though I'm alone, someone keeps ruining it.

I don't want to admit it to myself, though I know there is no use denying it. I can't stop thinking about the Blake girl from school. School has been over for hours, yet she's been on my mind ever since, clouding my vision and invading my thoughts. It gets to a point where I find myself contemplating willingly do my homework just to get my mind off of her.

The first time I met Blake, I hadn't thought much of her. I mean, she was cute—though definitely not my type. She'd been nice, which made my first day at Magnolia High a little better than it could have been. But that'd been it.

Then there was the time I'd spotted her across the courtyard talking to her dark-haired friend. She'd caught my eye, and for some reason I'd been unable to look away. It was her smile, I think to myself. That smile that illuminates her entire face, except for her eyes. Her eyes shine with a different light. If darkness could shine, that's what it would be. Her ex-boyfriend had then approached her, and for a moment I'd wanted to help her out by sending him off elsewhere. Of course, I didn't. Instead, I'd walked away and haven't thought of her since.

Until today.

She'd approached me today during lunch, shockingly enough. I'd seen her walking my way, though I'd assumed she would pass rather than linger. For a moment, I'd found myself hopeful that she'd stop. Hopeful that she'd been singling me out. I didn't like the feeling.

Then she did exactly that, stopping directly in front of me. Closing my eyes, the image of her grin fills my mind, taking me back in time. I can still see her dirty blond waves tumbling down her shoulders in soft curls that, for some reason, I'd wanted to wrap around my fingers. I recall her warm, chocolate-colored eyes, her bow-shaped lips that paint the most perfect of smiles on her pretty face. Standing before me, she'd seemed so tiny compared to my height.

She'd smiled at me. Then she'd simply said, "Hi."

Of course, I'd responded as an asshole. That isn't what bothers me about our interaction. What bothers me is that—and I still don't know why—in her presence, I didn't want to be an asshole. This girl was standing in front of me—this pocket-sized ray of sunshine, warmth flowing from her like a stream—and had told me hi. She didn't have to talk to me at all, yet she had wanted to. She had seen me standing by myself, and I guess she'd thought that no one is better off alone, and that maybe she could fix that for me.

For a second, I'd wanted her to. She might not be bad company, I had found myself thinking. That is, until I'd realized: I am.

I couldn't allow myself to do that to her. To enter this little ray of sunshine's life and bring along nothing but darkness. I couldn't look at that luminous smile knowing I'd never be able to do anything but dim it, take everything good about her and leave her with nothing.

So, I'd been a jerk. I'd hoped that she'd see nothing worth saving in me and then be on her way. Only, she had stayed.

She's said something about thinking she could help me after I asked her if there was something I could help her with. It took me a moment to realize she'd been talking about cigarettes, as I'd imagined her words to mean something deeper. For a second, I'd thought she was talking about how I've allowed myself to become collateral damage, slowly destructing my own life. I'd thought she'd meant she could help me by shining her light on all of my darkness and to pull me out of the hole I've dug for myself.

However, I know now I'd been stupid. And foolish. Because she's just a girl. I don't even know her. Besides, I don't let people into my life for a reason. I prefer to be alone. If I'm going to self-destruct, then one day I'll implode, bringing my life to the ground with me. I refuse to drag anyone else into the hole I'm digging myself into. I refuse to ruin anybody else the way I've ruined myself.

And yet I couldn't help myself. She'd been standing there, looking like a beautiful deer caught in headlights after I'd admitted that I hadn't forgotten her. Her eyebrows had furrowed as her big eyes widened, pink lips parting in confusion. In that moment she hadn't been simply "cute". In that moment, looking up at me as if I'd made her whole year by simply remembering her name, she'd been beautiful. Radiant. Unforgettable to anyone, especially me.

I needed to be closer to her, if only for a second. The urge to wrap one of those curls of hers around my finger had become much too tempting, and I've never been good at resisting temptation. She'd stiffened as I stepped toward her, but didn't pull away. She let me move in closer, which had been a miracle in itself. If she knew what was good for her, she would have walked away. Kept her distance from me.

Thank God she didn't seem to know what was good for her. Or maybe she did, and—like me—just didn't care.

I still recall how it felt to twirl a strand of her dirty blond hair around my finger, how the simple action ignited a multitude of wicked thoughts within me. In that moment, I'd wanted my hands lost in her hair. I'd wanted her so impossibly close that maybe I'd begin to shine the way she does.

What she saw in me, I'll never know. All I know is that I saw in her all the things I am not—all the things I will never be. I saw warmth and happiness, light and genuine laughter, all the good things a human could be trapped inside one small body. I knew right then and there that she would become some sort of vice to me. I felt higher off of her rush of happiness than I've ever felt off of drugs. Being so close to her made me feel good, like she was somehow able to touch my soul.

I knew I had to let her go. Because if her light was somehow entering me, then maybe my darkness was seeping into her. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I knew there was someone else in this world that feels as miserable as I do, and that I had been the cause of it. Especially not her, this perfect girl, this fraction of the sun. She'd been kind to me on my first day, then showed me that same kindness again today. She'd had no reason to—I had nothing to offer her. Yet she wanted to speak to me out of the goodness of her heart. She'd seen someone suffering and wanted to help.

Except, she can't. I'm long past someone able to be helped. My soul is lost, long gone, encased in the hands of Lucifer himself. I'm so deep into the darkness, I fear I'll never witness light again—especially not a light like Blake. I don't deserve that kind of goodness. She can't help me, no matter how badly I had wanted her to.

Now, all I want from her is to get out of my head.

____

a/n: i am so fucking tired.