Dedicated to: perfectly_me2112
"I have no hope for you, Noelle," Emma dramatically sighed, yanking on my hair with the brush.
"Ow," I muttered.
"I'm serious, Noelle! Stop forgiving him every single time!" She groaned. "I'm sorry, but it's time I slap some sense into you."
It was true. I was too forgiving- but I couldn't help it.
"I know," I sighed sadly, as Emma began to braid my hair, getting me ready for the party. "I can't help it, though. Emma, I'm in love with him- what do you expect me to do? He doesn't know about my feelings for him, so he's not doing anything wrong- he doesn't know he's hurting me." I fiddled with the end of the black dress I was wearing as Emma finished of the braid, picking up the make up.
"Oh, Noelle," she said softly, looking me in the eye, her warm brown orbs glowing.
"And if he did like me, he would probably tell me, wouldn't he?" I continued. Emma didn't say anything. "I think he's happier than he would ever be with me, anyway. Single, and stuff. I just want him to be happy."
"God damn it, Noelle," Emma sniffed. "Don't make me ruin my mascara. This is really sad." She joked.
I laughed and hugged her. "It's okay, Emma. I'll live- if you want I'll keep trying."
It was her turn to laugh. "That's great. And remember, Noelle- if he really is going to act like an asshole when- if he ever finds out your feelings, then just call me and I'll sever his head off in a snap." She snapped her fingers. "You could do so much better if something like that happens. I'm sure there will be way better guys out there- I mean, come on, we're still in high school."
I nodded bluntly.
But, you see, that's the thing that hurts so much. There aren't any better guys out there.
Who else is going to put up with my long rants and my weirdness? My strange little quirks that make me who I am?
Who else will care for me the way Harper does? Care for anyone the way Harper does- truly and deeply and wholly?
Who else is going to go to all lengths to comfort me when I have panic attacks? Going to hug me and tell me that I'm beautiful and I'm perfect and that I should be happy to be myself?
The thing was, I don't think I would ever find someone like Harper Andrews.
I guess that was why I had to keep trying.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Emma and I opened the front door of my house to go outside- all ready and prepped- Emma in her short green dress, me in the same black, three quarter sleeved dress that clung to my body and I had worn last time. I wasn't bothered to buy a new one- making Emma absolutely outraged, saying that I had to stand out more. She had then insisted on doing my hair and make up to 'switch things up a bit'. Her words, not mine.
But, I admit, she did a pretty good job.
As soon as the door was flung open and we called our byes to Mom and me, to Misha, we both stopped still. There, his hand hovering over the doorbell, was Harper, dressed in a black button down rolled up past his elbows and jeans. He smiled slightly at me, before his eyes widened slowly, eyeing me up and down. I blushed a little bit at his attention.
Remembering Emma's words to not be so forgiving, I stood up a little straighter, trying to be a bigger person than I actually was. Height and confidence.
YOU ARE READING
Falling Too Far
Teen FictionA girl with her heart on her sleeve and boy with a reputation of breaking them. A/N: I started writing with this when I was 13. I love it a lot because I used it as a platform to talk about issues that mean a lot to me and I feel don't get enough at...
