Thomas' POV
I can't believe I just broke up with the boy I love. But he probably doesn't even love me back. Sure he says he does, but people say stuff they don't mean all the time. Why wouldn't this be any different? Nobody actually loves me, I accepted that a while ago. Love is only a fantasy in fairy tales.
My parents left for work. They won't be back for a week, so I had to be home by myself. I debated on texting Newt, but I remembered that I blocked him. Not that he'd want to talk to me even if I hadn't.
There was a knock in the door. I didn't want to answer it, so I stayed on the couch. The person knocked again. Grumbling angrily, I went to see who it was. I didn't fully open the door in case it was like a murderer or something. When I looked through the peep hole, I saw someone worse than a murderer.
"Go away!" I shouted. "No one's home!" I heard a loud sigh on the other side of the door.
"Tommy," the British accent sighed, "please let me in."
"No!" I yelled back.
"Fine," he surrendered. "I guess you were serious about the break up." I heard him leave and go down the steps. Looking out the window, I saw him walk down the sidewalk and away. It took everything I had not to go after him.
He hates you, I reminded myself.
With that thought, I went back to the couch, trying to forget about Newt. Much to my dismay, I couldn't. I had to see him. Jumping off the couch, I ran outside, heading in the same direction he did.
