S H E

Please, Nadia

I can still hear her muffled sobs as I slam the front door to her apartment from the outside. I'm crying, too, as I walk briskly to my car. I just broke up with my girlfriend, Nadia. She was cheating on me; something that seems to have been happening a lot. Well, with the past two girls I've dated, anyway. I try not to let it get to me. My mom tells me I'm too young to worry about things like this. And she's
absolutely right. My dad secretly hopes I bring home a boy.

When I get home, the tears have dried. I tell my mom I broke it off with Nadia and she hugged me tightly. When she pulled out of our embrace, she tucked a stray short red curl back into my messy curly top hair. "You did the right thing. Get out of those relationships fast." She snapped her frail fingers, and I laughed followed by a sniffle. "I love you baby!" My dad called from the living room, offering his support. "Thanks, guys. I'm going to bed. I'm emotionally exhausted," I chuckled, and climbed the stairs to the hallway of our bedrooms.

That happened in my Sophomore year, months ago. I awoke on a different day in my bed, not prior to the story I just told you. Today is the first day of my Junior year. I dragged myself out of bed and did a new adapted makeup routine. I recently learned how to perfect an eyeliner wing! Courtesy of my best friend Olivia. I threw on a simple grey shirt with a pocket, and some jeans, and some red chucks. I also put on my signature black and white letterman jacket. It's my good luck charm. I've sewn various patches onto it over the years.

My mom took me to school because she saw I was drowsy. I protested, but she shut me down with "drowsy driving is drunk driving!" Little did she know I was always drowsy driving to school when I got my car in my sophomore year.

Walking nervously up the steps, I spot a familiar face standing with a group of people. My stomach dropped.

Nadia.

She had cut her hair into a short bob. I felt a sad sense of nostalgia for some reason. I remember running my fingers through her long, light brown hair, and braiding it and...

No. She cheated on me. Get a grip. Alison! I quickly drew my eyes off of her before she looked at me. That would've been awkward. I pretended I didn't even notice. I probably won't even see her for the rest of the day.

I had my first class (World History) with Nadia. At least she sat a few tables up from me. She completely ignored my existence, but I secretly hope she feels my distressed eyes on her back and that whack job of a hair cut. (It actually looks really good. I'm just butt hurt.)

I stared down at the wooden surface of my desk, deep in thought. About you-know-who. Until the sound of a sharp screech from the chair next to me scraped the hard floor, causing me to jump.

"Sorry. Can I sit here?" A tall boy by the name of Kyle Quinn awkwardly glanced down at me. I nodded briskly, scooting over to allow him some room. I went to the same middle school with him; always a quiet kid, that one. But something was different about him ever since we started high school. I found him aesthetically pleasing to look at now-and-days. I don't mean to be shallow, him and me both had terrible acne in middle school. I still have remnants of it, but his face is almost clear now. And I found myself analyzing, and fascinated with him until he looked over his shoulder at me. I smiled at him, and made a quick get-a-away by turning my head. Awkward!

I thought nothing of my fascination with Kyle. I mean, I'm gay but I'm not blind. After a few days of class, Kyle started to talk to me in World History. At first it was reminiscing of good times in middle school. And then we began having casual conversations.

"Hey, Alie!" Kyle greeted me with my old nickname I haven't heard in a few years as I sat next to him. I yawned, waving to him. "Hi, Kyle." I responded with a weak smile. He frowned. "Rough morning?" I nodded tiredly, but nudged his shoulder. "You get the notes from last time? I was spaced out. From another rough morning." We both shared a chuckle.
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Saturday, March 3rd. I received a text from Nadia. I deleted her number, but I recognized who it was from immediately. "You and Kyle are getting along. I see you two in class." It held the venom of jealousy. I couldn't help but grin. "Yeah, why?" I responded. I waited 10 minutes after I received the text of course; wouldn't want to seem too eager.

"I bet you're not really gay-" the first line made my grin drop. And my eyes roll. The rest made me red up to my ears. "Do you play us just to get guys attention?" I huffed, and about threw my phone. But I responded, kept it simple. And blocked her number.

"Bitch, please, Nadia."