Project Fat Suit

Forty-Five: Dilemmas

“No, I was trying to join the underworld,” she said in a grave tone without even looking up.

Her words struck a feeling of sympathy through me. I couldn’t leave now. She was trying to commit suicide in a very inefficient manner, but still.

I stayed silent, not really knowing what to say anyways and took a seat next to her.

Melanie glared at me in her scary way for about two minutes. Then she just suddenly started to break down. She sat huddled into her knees, wailing like a newborn baby.

“Uh-it’s okay,” I said and awkwardly patted her shoulder.

“Est non!”  she sobbed in the dead language again, leaving me clueless once again. “I’m done. I’m done with being lonely. My boyfriend left me for that stupid, emo-wannbe, my parents are never home, and now the only person that has attempted to comfort me is a girl with a dick drawn on her face.”

“Melanie you don’t have to—what?”I asked, temporarily distracted. Oh, so that’s what Martin was doing with his band of dorks. “Never mind. Anyways, things don’t have to be this way. Just get over your boyfriend. If he can’t see what you have to offer, his loss, right?” I cringed after I thought over what I said. I really suck at this.

“You don’t understand. He was—and I—amo eum!” she shouted before throwing herself at me.

I ignored the pain Melanie’s spiked choker was causing me as she held me in a death grip of a hug.

“Melanie, I won’t lie to you. I don’t know the first thing about love, but it’s not a one-time thing. Your ex isn’t going to be the last, so please don’t give up your entire life for him.”
“There’s going to be more exes?” she asked me incredulously before starting to sob harder on my shoulder.

I mentally cursed my stupidity. Why did I have to say it like that?

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” I corrected. “There’s just going to be more chances to find someone you will appreciate and adore you for what you are.”

Melanie didn’t say anything after that. She just kept crying onto my shoulder as I sat there patiently for her to be done. I don’t know how long we just sat there underneath the bleachers.

Melanie finally pulled away from me. Her makeup dripping off her face from all the tears and using some tissues from her bag, she wiped it off. Her scary exterior had been just that. With her slightly terrifying makeup off, Melanie looked lost, vulnerable, and broken.

“Stop staring at me,” she snapped.

“Sorry,” I mumbled and looked away from her. “Are you feeling better?”

Melanie looked shocked at my question. “Why do you even care? Aren’t you the girl that made the other girl jump in front of a car?”

“What?” I asked, appalled at the ludicrous rumor. I know the rumors about me were bad, but not this bad. “No,” I denied snappily.
“Sorry,” she apologized. “I just think that this is weird with what every says about you. You’re actually helping me.”

Her words got me thinking again. Maybe Uranus and Liam were right. Maybe I did help more people this way.

“We should go,” she said, getting up.

“Are you sure?”

“Ita vero.”

“What?”

She rolled her eyes and gave me a condescending look. “Yes. I’m fine. I’m not going in there though. I’m ditching.” She caught my concerned glance and responded to it with, “I’m not going to kill myself, Davidson. Your little speech, though it was crappy, made me realize something—the prick didn’t deserve me. I’m going to kick his ass, right in front of that bitch, ” she told me, starting to walk away.