NOTE: THIS STORY HAS NOT GONE UNDER ANY MAJOR EDITING.
|| PART O N E ||
• PROLOGUE •
I couldn't believe this was happening.
My cheeks were burning with embarrassment as I stood there, clutching my lunch tray in my shaking hands. I could feel my heart thudding uncontrollably in my chest as it resonated in my ears.
They were all laughing--every single one. I wasn't sure why. I was completely blindsided. All I did was step in the room and everyone was in hysterics.
Their eyes shot through me like daggers, and even though Valerie was right next to me, I felt completely singled out. The spotlight was on me and there was no way to escape its scorching heat.
"Evelyn, Evelyn, Evelyn." A sickeningly sweet voice cooed as a blonde figure stepped from the crowd. My jaw clenched, and my eyes narrowed. Grace Hawthorne--my ex-best friend and current best friend's girlfriend.
My eyes suddenly widened. Adam. Where is he?
My eyes furiously scanned across the faces of the rest of the student body. Each one held the same expression: complete and utter amusement. Happy I could be of service.
My teeth gritted together harder as I noticed Grace pull a paper from her back pocket. She placed a hand over her mouth and cleared her throat. "If only you could see that it's you and me. Me and you. If you could only see that I do everything for you while she--"
At that moment, my heart fell deep into the very pits of my stomach. It's my song. The song I kept in my notebook hidden in my room. The song I'd written about love. The song I'd written about--Adam. My best friend Adam. My popular best friend Adam. And now it was being read by his girlfriend . . . in front of the whole school.
Oh my God, I cried in my mind, breath rapidly picking up speed. This isn't happening! This. Is. Not. Happening!
As Grace spoke the last line of the chorus, she had to hold back her sneers. "And baby, it's you. With me is just--" she let out a loud guffaw. "Just where you belong." She looked up at me then, a hard look plastered on her face. "Why? It's looks like we have ourselves a little composer." A wicked grin spread across her lips. "This wouldn't happen to be about Adam, would it?"
Tears were welling up in my eyes by then, my glasses fogging up almost completely. I never cry; I shouldn't have been. Be tough, Eve, I coached myself. But suddenly, my resolve broke. Because standing behind a dozen of kids with a red face and dissapointed expression on his face--was Adam.
We locked eyes, my desperate gaze begging him to save me and get me out of this mess--just like he always did. But when he looked away from me as if he didn't know who I was, I felt a sharp pang surge through my chest, just like in those movies, books, and TV shows.
Wetness rolled down my cheek, and I wiped it away quickly, hoping Grace didn't pick up on it. But, of course, she did.
"Aww, is wittle Evie alright?" she asked insincerely, before swaying the notebook page in the air. "Should I give you some time to write a song about it?"
That was it. I was done. "I'm out of here," I whispered harshly to Valerie, who had been staring at me with a dumbfounded expression the whole time. She may have been my closest friend besides Adam, but I never told her I write music . . . or that I was in love with my best friend.