Bleeding Hearts

thirteen

for Lydia, because she made me a GORGEOUS cover and is always, always, always incredibly kind to me ❤️❤️❤️

THIRTEEN

I have never really been one for attention, usually blending into the crowded throngs of people at my school. I don't necessarily scream SPECIAL so I never expected anything more than maybe a curious glance my way to see what I was doing. This, though, this is entirely different.

I can feel my face practically flaming with stares of surprise gluing onto my skin as I make my trek down the hallway and towards my locker. I haven't had this much attention on me since word got out that Ford and I dated, and even then people weren't this nosy. Back then it was kind of just a few whispers and stares my way but now it's full on stares and complete silence, like I just assassinated the president. Maybe they didn't expect my transformation to include a new boyfriend, or maybe they're simply shocked that yet another popular boy found his way on my arm. Whatever the reason, all I can ask is for them to stop and resume their lives without digging into mine.

Even when I reach my locker I'm not safe, the kids around me who haven't been at their lockers all year are now conveniently leaning against them. People are so fucking annoying and stupid sometimes. I mean, seriously, what's the big deal? I get that maybe it would've been a bit of a surprise at first but to go to standing around the halls waiting for some type of confrontation is just idiotic and frankly, pretty annoying. Maybe dating Brady wasn't the right choice after all, but now that I've done it there's no going back—especially not when I know that he cares about me so much.

Haphazardly I glance towards my right—Ford's locker—and spot Ford looking right back at me. Correction, glaring right back at me. His hand is gripping onto his locker so tight that I can see his white knuckles from here, and he's literally just standing there with his eyes narrowed and glaring at me like I've done something unforgivable. I'm tempted to shout at him or something, but then I remember my talk with him the other day.

"And I know that he likes me back, and I don't want to mess this up so whatever we have going on ..." I sigh, slightly hating myself for being so blunt. "It needs to stop."

I meant every single word of it, even though it hurt a little. Brady's a great guy, and even better kisser, and I really don't want to hurt him so knowing how much he seems to hate Ford, getting rid of Ford for good was and probably always will be the best decision. Though now that I'm glancing at Ford and seeing how angry he seems, I'm not too sure if I made the right choice. I've been having to make so many decisions that I'm no longer sure what's considered right or wrong—I'm just  confused.

Just as I'm about to say something to Ford—or do anything really—Brady's lean body stands between us, giving me a since of familiarity in such an immensely tense area. "Hey." He breathes effortlessly, as if the entire school doesn't have their eyes trained on us.

"How do you do that?" I wonder softly, glancing around me at the hushed whispers and nosy glances. "How do you act like everything's alright?"

Brady smiles. "I just think about you."

This time is my turn to smile, momentarily not letting the onlookers bother me. Even before we became a thing, Brady never failed to make me feel the slightest bit better about things. How did I never notice before? He must've thought I was such an idiot chasing after Ford—a boy who never truly loved me—while he sat from afar simply watching our lives pass by. It hurts me to think of what I put him through, but mostly because of the irony. I was in the exact same spot as he was, watching from afar as someone I loved chose others—countless others, might I add—while I sat idly by, waiting for the single glance my way that would light up my entire week. Now we've found each other—in such different circumstances—and just thinking about it brings an even wider smile to my face as I tuck a few hairs from my bun behind my ear.