How to Get Rid of Your Ex Girlfriend

Let me express to you how SAD I’ve become.

I went from a happy-go-lucky slacker with an awesome best friend and no worries to an angsty, unloved, melodramatic, trigger-happy, possessive, sexually confused, and just all around messed up guy WITHOUT a best friend. And with lots of new problems. What’s it been? Three days, I think…and I’ve already completely lost myself and fucked up my life. Oh, and my face too.

And all for – you guessed it – love.

That’s the lesson learned here. Don’t fall in love. It’s just so fucking NOT worth losing a best friend if you happen to go wrong.

I turned slowly, picking out Tyler’s dark head from among the shadows. It was bobbing slowly off in the other direction, and I followed its progress with a blank detachment. After a completely wordless detention, the two of us had parted and stalked off in opposite directions. We weren’t about to walk home together after what had happened that day. It wasn’t like I was mad at him. More like he was mad at me and I was mad at myself…and we were both in very bad moods, anyway.

Let’s add stalker to the list of my new bad attributes, because as soon as he’d gotten a good way ahead I followed him all the way back to my house. Of course, he didn’t see me. I stayed out of sight like any good stalker does, and did that cliché duck-behind-a-tree thing whenever he heard my footsteps.

I watched sneakily through the window as he banged into my room. I wasn’t sure what I’d accomplish by this, but it was my room. I didn’t have anywhere else to go. Maybe I should have gone and kicked him out, told him to go to Sam’s house, or something. But I didn’t really want to talk to him, and plus, I was past caring. I could always go to Sam’s myself if I needed somewhere to sleep.

The first thing Tyler did was slam the door shut. I flinched slightly at the sudden noise. For a moment, I was sure he’d noticed the flash of motion, but then he turned away and kicked the wall, hard.

Let me tell you, Tyler getting violent is a very rare thing. I’m usually the easily set off one. He’s the one who stays calm through everything and tries to control me. So today, when he beat me up? He was mad. Very mad indeed.

I touched my back gingerly. It was beginning to ache from where it hit the floor, gradually growing in pain and probably bruising already. And my face, well…it hurt so bad that I had the sudden urge to give up my cover, leap through the window, and search the house madly for a bottle of aspirin. If aspirin even works on things other than headaches.

As Tyler brought my attention back to the room by chucking his bag noisily at the far wall, I realized my hand was on edge of the window, poised to open it. I cursed. Had he seen me?

Sadly, it was probably my loud “SHIT!” that actually caused him to snap his head around suddenly and spot me through the window. Glaring furiously, he stormed towards me.

I was actually kind of scared.

“FISCHER!” he yelled, throwing the window open. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Wantmyshirtback!” I blurted. Then I turned red and mentally slapped myself.

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to have caught that and merely yelled his question louder. “I ASKED YOU, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

I tried again. “Well, it is my house,” I said coolly. I just was NOT in the mood to shout back. At least this was better than blurting nonsense, though.

Tyler closed his eyes and heaved a deep sigh, as though trying to gather himself. When he spoke, his voice was tight and forced through gritted teeth. “What do you want, anyway?”

“I, uh…”

“What’s that?” he growled.

“…I-I wanted my shirt back.”

For a second, he looked as though he might laugh. Then an almost dead look of forced calm came back into his eyes, and he glared at me dully. “Really?”

No. “Um...yeah.”

“Fine.” Tyler tugged it off his head and chucked it hard at me. It hit my face and fell to the ground – I was too busy staring at him to catch it. First at his bare chest, then my gaze traveled upward to his lips, which were curled into a tense frown.

Oh god. I really am turning into an angsty teenage girl, aren’t I?

“Can you just go away?” Tyler said suddenly, causing my eyes to snap up to his again. And to my surprise…they weren’t narrowed anymore. Just glazed over with what looked like hurt but could have easily been disgust or hatred.

“I…”

“Just go.”

“I’m sorry!” I said desperately.

He just looked away. “Whatever.”

“I shouldn’t have thrown Nerd Boy into the lockers. I’m really sorry.”

“Whatever,” he repeated.

“Listen.” I almost reached out and grabbed his hair to force him to look me in the eyes, but he did it on his own as soon as he heard the urgency in my voice. “I’m sorry for throwing Nerd Boy into the lockers. So can you please not be pissed off at me?”

“His name isn’t ‘Nerd Boy’, it’s Christopher,” Tyler said quietly. “Why did you do it, anyway?”

“I…” I was jealous. That’s really it.

“I knew it,” he scoffed. “Now that your stupid jocks have accepted you back into their circle you treat the nerds like shit again. You probably just wanted to be macho and show off and-”

“Shut up. I’m not like that, and you know it.”

He looked at me with icy curiosity. “Oh? Then why did you do it?”

Because I love you and it killed me to see you just throw me away like that.

“Hello?” He reached through the window and snapped his fingers under my nose. “Tell me why!”

I flinched away from his hand, shaking my head. There was no fucking way I would tell him THAT after he clearly proved he didn’t like me back.

“Tell me!”

I shook my head again. “No way in hell.”

“Why?” he demanded sharply.

“Does it even matter, anyway?”

“You’re right,” he admitted, surprising me. “It’s way more.”

Then he slammed the window shut and locked it, leaving me to stare at him as he turned away and flopped facedown onto the bed. What the hell did he mean by that? Had I done something else to make him mad?

I started to pound on the window. “Adams!”

“Go away!”

“No!”

“GO AWAY!”

“NO!”

“LEAVE ME ALONE, YOU STUPID FUCKTARD. IN CASE YOU HAVEN’T NOTICED, I KIND OF HATE YOU!”

“NO YOU DOOOON’T!”

“I. HATE. YOU!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” one of the neighbors boomed.

I was about to resume my yelling, but when I had turned back to the window the blinds had been pulled down.

“Fuck this…” I muttered, dashing around to the front door and trying to jerk it open. Locked. I tried the back. Locked too. I considered the chimney for a moment, but I’d probably break my neck if I tried that. Santa was a lucky bastard. I needed powers like that, if only to get into my own house and refuse to leave until Tyler stopped hating me. I tried beating on the window again, but soon gave up when he didn’t answer.

You know what? Fuck all this. I was going to go to Sam’s house and tell him – and probably Lena – everything. And this time, I wouldn’t let myself leave until I actually did it. God knows I needed some good advice.

Feeling a little happier now that I had a plan, I set off toward Sam’s.