Surviving Life with the O'Conner Boys

Chapter 18- Addicted to Love

Chapter 18- Addicted to Love

You would think that I, being a tough girl and all, would have went to school, sucked it up and held my head high right in front of Brad; like there was nothing wrong and everything was normal. Well, that's not what really happened. I went to school, there was no way that I couldn't. My parents no doubt wouldn't let me skip school unless it was a life or death emergency.

Besides I didn't want to skip school, I didn't think it was necessary. But then when I did go to school, I regretted it. Long and behold, the whole student body, -or the junior class at least- looking at me and whispering, and I knew they were talking about me. That was the least of my troubles of the week. The toughest part has to be sitting with Brad during English and History. English was the most awkward since it was him, Maddi, Nathan and I all in one group. Then, since I had to think about it even more, it was beyond awkward that Nathan was in our group since he was part of the lie.

We barely said a word to each other, and he didn't even want to look at me. He never said hi, never stopped at my locker, didn't look for me or sit with me at lunch. Not even in History class when he use to poke me on my sides to make me scream when the class was quiet, and especially, no hugs, no kisses and no goodbyes. I was upset, and deep down when the week passed, I missed him. I missed him holding me and talking to me and us just hanging out. I missed his presence.

The thing is, Brad and I weren't that lovey dovey couple that held hands all day and made out behind the stair-wells saying I love you constantly. He’s my best friend and I hope that I’m still considered to be one of his best friends. We didn't need to go out on fancy dates, or celebrate our every-month-anniversary. Just hanging out, talking, walking, doing crazy stupid things was all we needed to do to make each other happy. We weren't girlfriend and boyfriend, we’re best friends, and that was it. We were a simple couple, not like some Angelina Jolie and Brad Pit couple, or Romeo and Juliet. We were just Brad and Brook.

I didn't talk to people about my emotions or how I felt about Brad and the break up. Instead I came home every day and sulked in my room alone until it was time for dinner. Then I would go down and put a fake smile on my face to show everyone I was okay. This is the third time we've gone out and broke up. I know what you’re thinking; I should be used to this by now, huh? But this time, it just felt different. Like something was telling me it would be the last time and that everything we have is done and gone with the wind. That's what making me sad and depressed.

For my weekend I had already planned out that I would sit in my room and sulk. And I was going to do that until I found a note on my mirror from my mom telling me to clean out my closet and organize it. So that's what I was doing exactly. Sitting on my shaggy carpeted cream floor, in my closet, next to a big clear bin with only a quarter of it filled with cloths that didn't fit me.

I was playing my music from my iPhone on the dock when the song Addicted to Love by Florence and the Machine came on. That's when I opened the top draw on the left hand side. The first item of clothing it showed me was a hoodie. And as you could have already guessed, it wasn't my hoodie. It was his. Brad's. His High School wrestling sweater in my possession. I had forgotten that it was still here. The last time I wore it was when he gave it to me to block out the rain. We had finished seeing the new Ghost Rider. I wasn't really into that whole series but Brad was, so I tagged along. It turned out to be pretty good movie, and just as we were leaving the cinema it started to downpour! Which is a bit strange for California, especially in February. He gave it to me so I wouldn't ruin my hair. Sweet, huh?

I pressed my nose against the dark color fabric still faintly smelling his cologne; maybe even just imagining it. It was so soft that I started snuggling with it. I stayed there with the hoodie staring at the same spot on the floor for a few moments deciding what I would do with the sweater.