Stop

Jeremy had found out. Well it was more like he forced it out of me.

When I had come to school the next day, a bruise on my cheek, and no Peyton in sight Jeremy began asking questions. He wouldn’t shut up about it and every time he saw Peyton he’d stomp over and demand to know what had gone on.

Neither of us said anything, but the looks we sent each other were enough to tell Jeremy that something was wrong.

I nearly went all day without breaking down, but after Jeremy asked why Peyton wasn’t following me like a lost puppy like he normally did, I broke down.

When I started crying he took me home quickly. Then he ordered me to tell him what was wrong and…I guess I just needed to vent. I needed to scream at the top of my lungs and cry to someone about Peyton and that person just so happened to be Jeremy.

I told him what had happened he held me like the best friend that he is. He told me that things would sort out in the end and that he was always there for me. I was happy that I still had Jeremy…I don’t know what I’d do without him.

It was also pretty funny to see him screaming at Peyton the next day too…

When Dean came over I couldn’t help but wonder if Peyton was watching. Maybe it was because I was so used to him being over protective of me that I thought maybe he had went as far as to sit out my window and make sure nothing went down or maybe it’s just I’m losing my mind, I don’t know, but the night went fine.

Dean and I got a lot done and my mother even ended up baking cookies for us, which made me feel a lot better.

I thought that everything was going fine, because for three long weeks Peyton didn’t bother me. He didn’t try to beg for me backwhich I’m a little sad about he didn’t try to beat me up like before, everything was just…fine.

But I guess nothing was ok, because a little over three weeks after the “incident” I realized that life without Peyton just didn’t feel right.

I didn’t like the way my heart hurt every second of every day. I didn’t like how I couldn’t sleep at night. I didn’t like how, at school, when I’d see Peyton, I’d feel the tears well up in my eyes. I didn’t like how…I felt, how life felt without Peyton beside me.

I couldn’t believe what I was doing. It should be the other way around. I shouldn’t be the one going to his house to apologize and try to get him back. He should be the one coming to me, but Peyton always managed to screw things up.

I managed to get to his trailer. It wasn’t a very nice place and I remember only coming here once, a while ago. We never came here because his grandmother, who is his guardian, wasn’t a very nice person. I was happy to see that she wasn’t there and I easily got into the trailer.

I moved into the back, ready to open his door…

Now this is when it happened…

”Fuck you,” I spat.

And for once, for once in our miserable “relationship” the boy showed something other then complete indifference. His face broke before me, but I didn’t stay long enough to see more then a glimpse of it because I quickly slammed the door on him, us.

I pushed my legs to carry me as far, as fast as they possibly could. Thoughts of anger and sadness ran through my mind and feelings of betrayal tore away at my heart.

This was his entire fault, all of it!

My life was perfectly fine. It was god damn perfect before he…before he fucked everything up!

The rain was coming down hard now, soaking me to the bone and staining the sidewalk. I yelped when my foot slipped on the watery surface, sending me straight down into the cement.

When I collided with the ground it tore my skin, but I ignored the pain of the dirt in my cuts as I pulled myself into an alley. I pressed my back against the solid brick building, the rain coming down to hit my face, hiding the tears that were now escaping my eyes to roll down my cheeks like a waterfall.

Why was I crying? Why was I crying for him? He doesn’t deserve it. He never deserved it and not to sound conceited, but he never deserved me.

I kept his secret and this is how he repays me?

I curled up into a ball, using the darkness as a shield. I could hear running footsteps now and his voice. It sounded slurred and his words were distorted.

I didn’t want to hear him right now though. I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t want anything, but pretend that this, we, never happened and that everything around me would just stop.