She Knows But She Doesn't Give A Damn

Within seconds of climbing into my classic '67 Ford Mustang, I was peeling out of her driveway.

I'm done. I'm done with her, her stupid boyfriend, her drama, everything. Why did I even come? Why am I fooling myself? She'll never feel the same way I do. She can't even see the fact that I'm the only person that truly cares for her, that I'm always there for her whenever she and Kaleb had another falling out.

Maybe the guys are right. Maybe I need a change.

My cell began to vibrate. I sighed annoyingly and loudly, letting out a scream of frustration and desperation before pulling onto the side. Gee, I wonder who this could be. I flipped open my phone and was greeted by the usual.

I'm sorry.

No you're not. You never are.

This time I mean it. I swear.

You always swear.

Braden.

Carly.

Braden I'm serious.

So am I.

Braden please.

What exactly do you want from me?

I need you to come back over.

I WANT you to come back over.

And why in the world would I do that?

You love me.

My head dropped back onto the headrest in hardened defeat. Sometimes I forget she knows the truth. And sometimes I forget she can use it to her advantage. I absolutely loathe her for it but it doesn't change how I feel.

I took once last glance at the text before doing what I always did.

I always turn the car around.