"You kept the pictures up?"
That was the first thing out of Zey's mouth when I walked into my room. He was holding a picture of us at his first race, his eyebrows raised.
"Only the ones before you came a conceited ass." I replied, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. He finally lifted his head and met my eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.
"I take it you saw Mommy Dearest and her new friend." I could feel warmth spread through my cheeks at the thought.
"What are you doing here, Zey? How'd you even know I was working at Doughboy?" I asked, taking the subject and pushing it in the right direction. He set the picture frame down beside him and made his way back over to me, taking my hand.
"Jess told me." He whispered, "And we need to talk, Syd. Abous us." I pulled away, taking a step back.
"There is no us, Zey. We ended when you decided that some woman that was almost twice your age was better than me." I tried to keep my voice down, knowing better than to get worked up over him.
My journey in finding the good in everyone started in kindergarten and came to a halt when I met Zey. He was everything that I knew better than to be with. He was dangerous, careless, and wouldn't let me out of his sight for more than a minute when we were dating. But there was the good things about him too, like how funny he was, how gorgeous his eyes were, his laugh.
It was the way he was that turned me into something I wasn't. For the year and a half I was with him, I wasn't me. I wasn't the Sydney that tried to find the good in everyone, I was the Syd that sat and cried for my dad to come back. I was reckless, carefree, I snuck out after my curfew to see Zey and most of the time we didn't really talk all that much.
Then I'd found him with the slut that had most of his friends and crew wrapped around her finger. It was around that time that I fell back into my normal pattern, I became me again. And I vowed not to ever let anyone, or anything, change me so drastically again.
"Babe, come on. You know how bad I feel, don't you? I promise if you give me another chance-"
"What? That you won't do it again? Once your a cheater, Zey, you'll always be one." I growled, pushing his hand away from me.
"Not if you regret doing it in the first place." He snapped, just as pissed off.
"Syd, I love you. I spent almost two years of my life with you just to have it all flushed down the drain because of a shitty mistake I made. But I know you, baby. I know you'll forgive me for being a dumb ass." I wanted to snap, to yell at him. To scream until my mom finally came in and forced him out of the house. But I couldn't bring myself to say a word.
Give him a chance to explain, he might actually have a decent reason.
Bennett's words circled through my head as I stared into my ex boyfriend's desperate eyes.
"An hour," I finally whispered, "you have an hour to tell me why you did it and why you think I should forgive you. Are we clear?" He nodded, a smile stretching across his face again. As he led me back over to my bed, I turned my head up and stared at the ceiling.
Please Bennett, I prayed, don't make me regret listening to you.
*
I could barely face my mom at dinner. She was talking non-stop, a tell of hers when she was nervous. Thankfully Zey and my mom's boyfriend kept sparking up conversations, especially about what Zey did for a living.
"That's dangerous, boy. Aren't you ever afraid of getting hurt?" He asked Zey, genuinely curious.
"That's just it, the danger of it that draws me in. I love the rush of adrenaline I get every time I'm on my bike."
They talked for a while longer before my mom asked if he wanted to spend the night. I was still trying to process his whole reasoning for cheating when he asked if he could sleep in my room with me. I had agreed, as long as he slept on the floor. It wasn't until he was asleep that I realized that there was a small chance that Kyle might show up in the middle of the night like he did every few days and lose it.
I was momentarily distracted by my phone going off and the text that was on it.
How's it going with Mr. Douche?
I laughed quietly to myself at the text, responding to it with a smile.
I don't know, Mr. Pessimist, how do you think it's going?
Why was he even texting me? For someone that acted like a complete ass in person, he sure sounded completely different through text.
I think, knowing U, that your probably giving him another chance
I stared at the text blankly for a moment. He's only known me for a week and he thinks that I let everyone walk all over me. Was he right?
You spelt you're wrong
Was all I sent back before setting my phone on the nightstand and stared up at the ceiling.
Did I really want to forgive Zey? After all o the crap he had put me through, all the nights I spent in my living room with a tub of ice cream as I watched Nicholas Sparks movies with Jess.
But he was the same guy that also made me laugh like no one else, the guy that sent me a text or called every night, even when we were thousands of miles apart, to say goodnight.
"Seriously?" I grumbled the minute my phone went off, dragging me out of my thoughts. I answered it without checking who it was, yawning.
"Hello?" I muttered into the phone.
"Ms. Optimist." I frowned at the voice.
"Bennett?" Why the hell was he calling me this late?
"Yeah?" He answered, sounding a little strange, almost like Kyle did when he was trying to hold back a laugh.
"Is there a reason you're calling me?" I said, lowering my voice so I didn't wake Zey on the pile of blankets below me.
"Actually, there is. You corrected my use of you're in text talk." I snorted.
"So?"
"So I wanted to explain to you exactly what texting is. Texting is a way for people to type however the hell they want. And, Hale, I can spell your how I want too." I could feel a smile tugging at my lips.
"You called just to say that?" I asked.
"Well, I'm really drunk right now if that's anything." I switched my phone to my other ear, frowning.
"You don't sound drunk to me." I pointed out.
"I'm not a lightweight, sweetheart. I can drink a lot more than your little boyfriend can without getting shitfaced." I winced at the word, sighing.
"So why are you calling me? Did you just sit there and think 'Hey, I wonder if Sydney is doing anything at one in the morning?'" I swear I heard something close to a chuckle out of him, but it seemed like it was only my imagination when he spoke again.
"I don't sound like that." He replied.
"You do to me, Mr. Pessimist." I said, yawning again.
"About that, why the hell have you been giving me notes and-"
"Because you need to learn to love yourself and the world, Bennett. If you haven't noticed, you're kind of a jerk." This time I heard him laugh, but it was sarcastic.
"Why should I love anything when all love has ever done is fuck me over? Huh, Sydney? Tell me." I was at a loss for words, my lips parting as I stared at the wall in front of me in surprise.
"It's funny," He went on before I could, "That everyone sits here and talks about how different we are, you and me. But they don't understand, do they, Sydney? They don't see the way you try to bury your feelings so far down that you forget they're even there until something triggers them. They don't see how much pain is hidden behind your smiles. Because only another pessimist could do that, right? Only someone who's been through so much could actually see beyond your sweet little innocent facade." I opened my mouth to say something but he cut me off with his final words before I could.
"You see, Sydney. You and me are alike in ways, and not in others, that's why I don't like you. Because no matter how shitty or worthless you think you are, you'll never come close to feeling the way I do."
***AN***
Thoughts?
I hope you guys enjoyed!
~ChasingMadness24