You're Gonna Love Me

I set myself at the lonely table at the very back of the cafeteria, unwrapping my sandwiches just to pick them to pieces. I had no intentions of eating. I hadn’t heard from Gerard since that night, not that I had really expected too. So I took that as a sign that we were done. I knew Mikey was floating around school today, but I hadn’t really bothered to look for him. I’d spent most of my morning hiding out behind the science blocks, and quite frankly I just wanted to spend lunch alone, as for this afternoon, well I still hadn’t decided on whether I was planning on showing up to class yet. I didn’t really care anymore.

He kissed me. I couldn’t get that one thought out of my mind. I couldn’t get the sensation of his lips on mine out of my mind. Every time I thought I’d found myself a distraction, it would come springing right back, sending warmth shooting through my body. I hated it. I hated that I couldn’t erase him from my mind. I hated how he made me feel. I hated how much I wanted him. I hated that I hadn’t fought for him, that I’d just abandoned him and ran. But most importantly, I hated that I hadn’t kissed him back.

I wasn’t sure how long I had been sat there, just staring at my plate full of food, regretting pretty much every moment since I had met him. before I heard a chair move from opposite me, and someone sat down. I looked up to see Gerard now sat opposite me, watching me with careful eyes.

“What do you want?” I mumbled, dropping my eyes back to the plate and sitting back in my seat, folding my arms over my chest, desperately trying to seem as though I didn’t care. As though I wasn’t dying inside, and that I wanted nothing more than to reach over the table and kiss him right now.

“About the other night-.” He began, and, guessing what was coming, I quickly interrupted.

“It can’t happen again, I can’t tell anyone, you don’t want me in your life. I’m pretty clear on it, Gerard. I’m not gonna spill your secrets to the school. You can go back to your perfect fucking life now.” I snapped, refusing to look him in the eyes, mainly because I was scared of just what I would find behind them.

“Th-that wasn’t exactly what I was going to say,” he said slowly, I frowned desperately trying to push a way the small glimmer of hope that had appeared, the last thing I needed right now was more disappointment.
I slowly lifted my head to look at him, his expression seeming somewhat apologetic. “I um…” his eyes dropped to the table, where he was drawing patterns with the tip of his finger. “I wanted to say thanks… for staying.” He told me, “and um… well you’re right, kinda. The.., the k… it can’t happen again. It shouldn’t have happened in the first place. But… just… well, t-thanks,” he stuttered, quickly pushing himself up from the table.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. So much for not getting my hopes up, because based on the crushing feeling in my chest, I could quite safely assume that I’d hoped he was going to say some thing a little different.

Why the hell did everything have to be so fucking difficult? And more importantly, what the hell just happened? Did this mean that we were still ignoring each other, or not? Honestly, sometimes my life felt like a fucking soap opera. The shrill sound of the school bell quickly disrupted my thoughts, and I pushed myself up with another sigh, heading in the direction of the back of the building. Hoping I could just slip out of the side gates unnoticed.

* * *

I suppose I should probably be incredibly grateful that my mom worked during the day. It gave me the perfect opportunity to break into her liquor cabinet. Not that a lot of ‘breaking in’ was required, my mom was incredibly trusting of me… she was probably the only one.

I didn’t know how much I drank, nor did I care to be quite honest. I didn’t care if someone found me, or if they didn’t. The only thing I had cared about, had abandoned me, so what did I have left? A bottle of vodka, and the vivid memory of a kiss that I didn’t reciprocate. Well isn’t that just fucking perfect?

I sighed as I took a long swig from the bottle. I heard somewhere that if you drink enough of it, it can kill you. Now I’d built up a pretty good tolerance of alcohol over the years, but I was pretty sure I would be able to conjure up enough to push past the boundaries. I squeezed my eyes shut; ignoring the single tear that slid from the corner of my eye as I desperately pushed the memories away, with another throat burning swig.