Three days. It’s been three days. I can do nothing but go onto Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and every fucking social platform just to see how she’s been doing, and who this fucker is. Who this rich fucker is. I imagine them having already gone for dates right before the breakup.
He must have lavished her with those expensive shoes, bags and makeup. Everything she’d ever wanted he gave her. Everything I couldn’t. All I could give her was me. My attention, my time, my love and everything that I am. Clearly that wasn’t enough. I need help.
I pick my phone up and dial a number in. It goes through quickly enough.
“Hello?”
“Mars, you free today?” I ask her.
“Uhm. Yeah kinda. What’s up?”
“I need my best friend.”
She sighs over the phone.
“What’s wrong this time?”
“Jess.”
“Yeah I heard. Meet me at the park in thirty?”
“Okay. Who’s got drinks this time?”
“You. Since you’re the one wanting to meet me. Haha.”
“Fair enough. See you in thirty then.” I say and hang up the phone.
…..
“Hey.” She calls out. I turn around to greet her.
“Hey.”
I stand and walk towards her. She opens her arms and crashes into me, holding me tightly. I let a tear leak.
“I’m here now.” She says softly. Though nothing taller than five feet, this woman could make me feel so safe, empowered. We walk to the benches and take a seat. I open the cooler and take two beers out. We clink our glasses together and drink.
“What happened?” she finally says after a minute, clearly waiting for me to start first.
“I saw her Mars.”
“When? And where?”
“Saturday at the dome.”
“And?”
“She was with somebody.”
Mars turns to face me.
“What?!”
“What?”
“Hasn’t it only been like two weeks or something?”
I wanted to correct her. One and half a week actually. But I just nod.
“The nerve of her, really. What the fuck.”
She takes a swig of her beer.
“He’s rich.”
“So?!” Mars says defensively. I shrug.
“So he can provide for her.”
“And you know this for a fact?”
I take a breath.
“He drives a fucking Ferrari.”
Her eyes widen for a second, clearly amazed. She quickly recovers but doesn’t say a thing. I grin.
“Thought so.” I mockingly say.
She pauses for a second. I take a cigarette out and light it up.
YOU ARE READING
Here's To That Summer
Teen FictionIf I could choose any moment in my life I wish to freeze, it would’ve been back in eighth grade when Suzie Westwood let me reach my hand inside her shirt. I’d go back to that moment if I could. But that moment changed forever when I met her.
