"Winning that ticket, Rose, was the best thing that ever happened to me... it brought me to you. And I'm thankful for that, Rose. I'm thankful. You must do me this honor. Promise me you'll survive. That you won't give up, no matter what happens, no matter how hopeless. Promise me now, Rose, and never let go of that promise."
I hugged my pillow, my eyes glued to the screen as if I hadn't seen the movie at least sixteen times.
"I promise."
I chocked back a sob as the tears welled in my eyes.
"Never let go."
"I'll never let go, Jack. I'll never let go."
I slumped over onto my side and cried into my pillow for the sixth time that day, the first time about something other than my own pitiful life. The Titanic gets me every time. It's pathetic really, the way I was acting. I felt like my world was crashing inward, and there was nothing I could do about it.
In a way, my world was crashing if you think about it. Imagine your whole life, for an entire year, was centered around one person. And then suddenly, out of nowhere (or at least it seemed out of nowhere), that person is gone. out of your life. poof. Now what do you do? Who do you text? Confide in? Tell all your stories to? Yeah. That was my life.
So there I was, watching depressing love stories and crying into my pillow because I had absolutely nothing better to do. I curled up in my bed, prepared for a nap to drown out my sadness, when my bedroom door flung open and my best friend Michael came charging in.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" He screamed, loud enough I'm sure, my neighbors two houses down could hear her.
"Sleeping, what are you doing here?!" I exclaimed, trying to look like I wasn't weeping into my pillow.
"This is ridiculous. Look at you, you're a mess! What have you done to this place? and when was the last time you took a shower, Jesus Christ!"
"Shut up!" I yelled, my cheeks turning bright red.
"But seriously Ansley. When was the last time you left your room?" I shrugged and sat up in my bed and really looked around my room. It was a sea of used tissues, delivery food wrappers and boxes, and ice cream cartons.
"I went downstairs earlier to answer the door for the pizza guy..."
"That's it, I'm having an intervention. You've lost it Ansley."
"I am perfectly fine! I'm actually enjoying my time thank you very much." I actually wasn't at all. I felt like crap.
"You are going to get out of bed, go to the bathroom and take a shower, alright? Then I'm getting you out of this house." I groaned dramatically as I slowly rolled my self out of bed and crawled to my bathroom door.
"Stop trying to be all manly and mascule, I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself!" I yelled from the bathroom, getting ready for my shower.
"Yeah, except you can't because I had to, BREAK INTO YOUR DAMN HOUSE JUST TO FIND YOU ROTTING IN YOUR OWN FILTH."
He was right, not just about the whole me needing to take a shower thing but about me needing to get out of the house. I hadn't left in four days, it was getting out of hand. So I took an extra long shower to make up for the time lost.
The thing about showers is when you're in there, you're either singing obnoxiously loud, or you're pondering how the world works. "What if this was all a dream? What if I'm not really alive, and I just don't remember my life before death?"
So of course I get in the shower and all I can think about is how absolutely horrendous the past days had been. One day we're cuddling on the couch watching Disney movies and then the next we're saying our teary eyed goodbyes. It all happened so fast, it was hard to digest.
But I guess I couldn't lie in bed for eternity, so I pulled myself together.
I got out of the shower and threw on my most comfortable clothing, sweatpants and a T-shirt. I walk back into my room, and the look Michael gave me look like I just kicked a puppy.
"What are you wearing?" He said, disgusted. I looked down and examined my clothes, he'd seen me in them literally a million times.
"Who named you fashion police, Mr. Purple hair and skin tight jeans?" I sassed. He groaned dramatically, threw her hand in the air and stormed over to my closet doors.
"No no no no, you're putting something nice on. Like a dress!" This time I groaned.
"Whyyyyy? Who have I got to impress?"
"You gotta look good to feel good! I think I read that in a magazine once. I dunno, but who gives a shit what the bastard thinks of you, now you can go out and find a real, nice guy. You gotta get back in the playing field, you're showing major symptoms right now, it's concerning me." I laughed out loud for the first time since the break up.
"Are you insane? Symptoms? of what?" I walked over to him, still digging aimlessly through my closet until he found something that to him seemed "appropriate". His first option was a skin tight black bandage dress I had used for a halloween constume one year. He held it up with a grin, and I immediately rejected it.
"Of a broken heart!" He said, as if it was the most obvious answer.
"Symptoms.....of a broken heart?" He rolled her eyes at me.
"Yes! I just said that! Now go put this on, we're going out to find you a date." He exclaimed, shoving a random dress in my arms and pushing me into the bathroom. I wasn't going to protest, when Mikey gets his mind set on something, it happens. So I did as I was told, and put the dress on. I decided if I was dressing up I might as well do my hair too, so I took it out of it's messy bun.
I examined my hair, my long dark locks falling back into place each time I brushed it. I think my favorite thing about myself is my hair. How it's so brown it's almost black, how it's thick and has a short of wave to it but it's not entirely curly. Then I moved on to brushing my teeth and washing my face. I would call myself a pretty confident person, considering the fact that I am a sixteen year old girl. I really only focused on the things I like about myself, not the things I hate. I like my naturally tan skin, I like my hair, my eyes, my feet. Why should I sit there and think about how I don't like my nose, or my hands? So I just didn't.
I finally left the bathroom, and when I came out Michael had pushed all the trash that was littering my room into one corner.
"Much better, isn't it?" He said triumphantly. I just shook my head and laughed, but it was much better clean. It wasn't quite as depressing.
"So where are we headed?" I asked. I didn't want to show it, but I was looking forward to getting out of the house. Needless to say, crying in my bed wasn't all that entertaining.
"Now, that parts a surprise." Michael said, smirking as he swaggered confidently out of my room.
"Why am I friends with you?" I screamed, hurrying after him. Mikey and I met in the third grade, he was kind of my only friend. I don't know what it was that made all the kids hate me, maybe it was because I didn't look like all the little blond girls with their hair bows and Vera Bradley lunch boxes, but they thought I was weird. Michael was the only one who would talk to me. He was one of those kids who were completely oblivious to social standards, he never once mentioned anything about the way the other girls looked at us. I think that's why we clicked so well.
So year after year, Michael and I were always together. He made me feel better about myself, I don't know how he does it, but he knows how to make someone feel good. I guess that's what best friends are for right? He was there when Heather Meyers was making fun of me at recess in sixth grade, he was there when Marcus Poesy almost cut off my hair in eighth grade (scariest moment of my life let me just say) and he was there when Pete Hays broke my little freshman heart in ninth grade. whether he was comforting me, or punching someone in the face (that was Marcus, the little worm) he was always there.
And now it was Mikey to the rescue again, already managing to make me feel better in less than thirty minutes. When I made it outside after turning out the lights and locking the door, he was already in his car, honking the horn at me obnoxiously until I opened the passenger seat and got in.
"Took you long enough!"
I shook my head and fastened my seat belt. Michael pulled out of the drive way, and headed out of my neighborhood.
The great thing about our town, is that it's literally minutes from the beach. It's kind of the picture esque place with the teenagers riding in the back of pick-up trucks, girls in bikinis, and hot guys with surf boards. Yeah, not too bad of a place to live.
"Are you gonna tell me where we're going now?" I asked, running through all of the possible destinations in my head.
"You'll see, just wait." So I waited. It took me a while, but I finally figured out where it was he was taking me as we pulled into the Barnes' and Noble parking lot.
To put it lightly, I love reading. I smiled as he pulled into a parking space and turned off the car.
"You know me so well." I said with a laughed, unbuckling my seat belt and getting out of the car.
we headed into the store, and we both took huge deep breaths, and blew them out. It was kind of in inside joke, we both loved the smell of books, so every time we would dramatically smell it and everyone would stare at us. I immediately headed for fiction of course, completely ignoring Michael as he wandered off into graphic novels and comic books. We explored the shelves for a while, occasionally bumping into each other or sharing the inside flap of a book.
I eventually wandered over to the built in Starbucks, thinking I could use a frappicnino. I got into line behind an old couple trying to decide what to get. I wasn't impatient, they we're cute, in a little old granny kind of way.
"How can I help you today?" A perky girl said from behind the counter. She reminded me of a pixie or a fairy.
"Um, I'm not sure.. What's the best thing you have?" The woman said, concentrating on the menu boards.
"Mary, just pick somthin' would ya, how's she gonna know what's best?" Her husband nagged. The girl looked uncomfortable, fidgeting her hands and stumbling on helpless sentences. A boy came from out of the back room and saved her from her.
"I would say the Vanilla latte is pretty good." He said, taking over the register.
"ohh, I 'll get that then!" The boy smiled and rang up the couple. He had messy brown hair that he obviously forgot to comb that morning, and pretty hazel eyes like nothing I'd ever seen before. He wished them a good day as they shuffled over to a table to wait for their order.
"How can I help you today, miss?" The boy said, in the middle of making the woman's drink.
"I'll just have a Carmel frap, please." I said. He looked up, looked back at the drink then back at me.
"Uhh." He said, fummbling with the drink and almost spilling it on himself. I stiffened a giggle.
"Uh, yeah, sorry, be right up!" he finished the drink and walked it over to the old couple.
"Sorry, Carmel frappicino?" He said, smiling wide at me. I smiled back and nodded. there was a line forming behind me, so I moved over to the side to wait for my drink. I noticed the boy was the only one working behind the counter. I watched him rush around and struggle to get every ones drinks.
"Are you the only one working back there?" I asked him. He rolled his eyes and looked into the back room.
"I'm not supposed to be, but yeah, I am." I gave him an encouraging look, but I doubted it did him any help.
My drink eventually made it to me, after he had tended to all of the impatient, annoying customers.
"I'm really sorry this took so long." he apologized, but I just shook my head and said it wasn't a big deal, which it wasn't.
I thanked him and retreated back to my exploring of books. I eventually found a chair in the corner of the young adult area, grabbed my favorite book off the shelves, and got lost in it as if it wasn't my 10th time reading it.
The best thing about rereading a book is that you can skip to your favorite parts, or flip to any part and just read. If you've never found a book that you can read over and over and never get tired of, you're reading the wrong books, my friends.
In my case, that book was The Fault In Our Stars by the lovely John Green. I flipped to the end chapters of the book, and started reading. Now I don't want to spoil the book for anyone, so let me just say this book is the funniest, most tragic, most magical book I've ever come across to this day.
Anyways, I was just innocently reading my book, drinking my frappicino, then I hear someone laughing. I look up and see Starbucks guy. He smiled at me, then sat in the chair next to mine.
"What's so funny?" I said defensively.
"Oh nothing, it's just, you were making really interesting facial expressions while you were reading." I blushed.
"It's okay, I understand, I've read that book multiple times too." My head snapped up from the book.
"You're kidding?"
"Nope, dead serious. One of my favorites." he said. Let me just start out with the fact that a boy who reads is like, 20 times more attractive than one who doesn't. Plus his ravishing good looks, AND he's read the most amazing book to grace the planet? This boy was gold.
"This book is my reason to breath." I stated, the most serious face I could have ever put on.
From there we carried onto a twenty minute conversation about the book, including our favorite parts and the metaphorical aspect of the book in a whole. Finally, I said,
"I've never met anyone who has a love as strong as mine for this book." He laughed and leaned back in his chair.
"Well, I've never met someone that's so easy to talk to before." I should have blushed, or at least smiled at him, but instead I frowned. He looked concerned.
"What's wrong?" I examined my finger nails, stalling for as long as I could, trying to think up some excuse for why I frowned when I should have just flirted back. I don't know why I did it, maybe it was because for those twenty minutes we talked I almost completely forgot about the break up between Jake and I, but I spilled my heart out to Starbucks guy.
"My boyfriend and I of two years broke up a week ago and this is my first time leaving the house in four days. My friend had to drag me out of the bed and force me out, it's pathetic. I've had this incredibly painful feeling in my chest all afternoon, except when I was talking to you. It sucks. And then you're being all sweet and saying I'm easy to talk to and it just reminded me, no offense or anything. But yeah.." The next thing I expected was for him to get up and leave, but he just looked at me with genuine concern.
"You know, I've been in your position before. You wanna know the trick to getting over someone?" I nodded.
"You just gotta stop thinking. Stop thinking about him, ignore all the memories, burn his shit if you really have to. It's not easy, but time flies when you're having fun, and by no time, he'll be just another memory. It's really what's best, no matter what happened to the relationship, life moves on." I smiled at Starbucks guy, he wasn't so bad. I was so used to guys treating me badly, I guess I didn't know what it was really like to talk to an actual nice guy.
Now don't go giving me a lecture about how the nice guy isn't always nice, sometimes it's an act, I should know that of all people, but I know when someone's being genuine, and that guy was.
I was still busy smiling over what he had said when my phone buzzed on the table next to the chairs. I checked it, it was a text from Mikey.
Mikey: I SEE YOU WITH THAT BOY I'M HIDING BEHIND A BOOK SHELF, GET IT IN. *5:33 pm*
I laughed at his texted and turned to my new friend.
"I should probably get going." I said, even though I didn't want to leave. I also felt extremely guilty that I was talking to some guy. I knew that Jake and I were over, and I could talk to whomever I wanted, but it still felt somewhat wrong about it.
"Yeah I should go back to work, my lunch break was over a while ago." He said with a laugh. We both got up, me going one direction, him the other.
"I guess I'll see you around?" I asked, hoping I would.
"Yeah, see you around." He said before turning around and walking away. Just before he was out of my sight I yelled, "wait!" he turned quickly before turning.
"What's your name?" I asked. The whole time we were talking, we never bothered to exchange names.
"Check your coffee cup!" He yelled back before swiftly walking back to his work. I looked at my coffee cup, not noticing anything out of the ordinary at first. Then I took off the sleeve, and right there in boyish handwriting, written with a sharpie, "Ashton, 558-8451". I stood there and laughed.
Maybe this whole getting out thing wasn't so bad.
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Hey guys! I AM SO SORRY I HAVEN'T BEEN ON HER IN LITERALLY FOREVER. I'm a bad person. But hey, I'm back! and with a new story! I reread my old one... and it need so MAJOR editing before I even try continuing it. So I have this in the mean time! I hope you like it, tell me if I should continue!! <3