The Next Best Thing: Part II

Four

I sat on the edge of my bed, landing on something cold and flat. My phone. I had switched it off in a depressed mood, unable to consider speaking to anyone anytime soon. I feared the outcome of any conversation where he could be brought up.
I knew that my friends and most probably my family had been trying to reach me to check if I was okay. I appreciated that. I just needed my space.

It wasn't the biggest secret in the world that Mitchell was seen with Paisley - a few tabloids began running the article a day after the pictures surfaced on the internet. Some sleazy gossip magazines alleged that she had been unfaithful to her now ex-boyfriend with Mitchell for the couple's year long relationship.

If that were true, it would mean he was absent for our entire relationship, that I was the only one who had invested a large part of themselves into it.

Another recalled seeing her at all their shows in places where she was, coincidentally, every time.

I shouldn't have read those - I knew the bullshit the reporters cooked up to make their product sell. But I had to believe that he was a serial cheater if it would make me less angry at myself. I knew I was equally responsible for the destruction of our relationship. I had to accept that at some point.

Conveniently, Mitchell had been accused of cheating on his former girlfriend a few months before we started dating. Of course, that was a miserable attempt at attention by an angry, heartbroken girl, and I knew that the allegations were completely false. When they were together, we had become extremely close and he confided in me so I would have known if he was a player.

However, all these things could prove that he was a terrible guy. Unfortunately Mitchell just wasn't that kind of guy.

Reluctantly, I switched it on and waited for the messages to paralyse my notifications bar. I had over twenty voicemail messages and a couple of text messages from various members of my social circle.

Most of the voicemails belonged to Tyler, who feared that I was self harming and probably hospitalised as a result. Min and Rae sent me texts allowing me time to heal and telling me to call them if I was ready to talk or if I was now feeling better, irrespective of the fact that they didn't know if I was even still alive or not. They just wanted me to be happy.

My mother hadn't tried to call me nor had she sent me anything out of the ordinary. She knew I would contact her if I needed to talk. I appreciated her not worrying to much about me. I didn't need that weighing heavily on me, considering how much she loved Mitchell. She was ready to give him her blessing to marry me because she believed I'd find the one. I had too.

I checked if I had anything from Mitchell, just to see if he still cared about me. He didn't call nor text. Not that I blamed him or anything. I just wanted to know that he still loved me. If he had ever truly loved me the way I loved him, that is.

I reminisced about the first day we met, the day that I professed my love to Tyler for being the greatest friend in the world. I had just transferred to New York and it was the last weekend before school officially began again. I was encouraged to befriend my new roommate, who came with two more equally amazing and crazy friends, to make the first few months easier for me.

Tyler came over to Min's parents' official home in Connecticut to break us out to visit the city and hang out with a few of their other many friends. I was reluctant, citing that I wasn't really good at making friends.

"They are very easy to befriend, Zoe. They are the sweetest guys I know and I think you'll love them. I think you already do," she had said with a grin.

These sweet guys turned out to be Mitchell, Aidan, Cameron and Lyle. I was taken aback, in awe of how amazing they were in person and in love with Tyler for allowing me the chance to meet one of my ultimate favourite bands.