Bad Boys & True Love

I closed my eyes and preparing for impact before turning around. When I opened them cautiously, Sean was standing next to his car, keys in hand, wearing a severely crestfallen face. Drew sped away, rubber burning on the asphalt, and left me with him.

I didn’t know what do say. I was hung over, I wanted to take a shower, and then I really needed to call Christina. Dealing with Sean right now—after that—was something I couldn’t handle right now.

And then I realized the most beautiful thing: I didn’t have to explain anything to him! He turned me down. I could do whatever I damn well please.

So I didn’t. I turned my chin upwards and marched up my lawn and straight to my door. “Stella!” I heard him yell behind me, but I ignored it. Because. I. Could.

I threw the door closed behind me, once again grateful that my parents weren’t home, and jumped nearly ten feet in the air when it was thrown back open. I shrieked instinctively, fearing the worse, but turned around and saw that it was just an angry Sean. I glared at him. “What do you want?”

“What was that?” he asked, his voice breaking. I paused.

“None of your business. You didn’t want to hang out with me, so I found someone who did.” I headed towards the kitchen, hackles raised. Who did this guy think he was?

He slapped his hand against the wall like a baby throwing a tantrum. “Goddammit, Stella, what’s your problem?”

I turned around, my hands on my hips. I am woman; hear me roar. “When I want you over, Sean,” I said slowly, venomously, “I’ll invite you over. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

His baby blue eyes flickered with an indescribable emotion. “Are you serious? Stella, that guy is bad news! I really don’t think you should see him,” he advised, like he knew what was good for me.

“Oh really, Sean?” I muttered sarcastically, turning around and getting myself a glass of water. My head was pounding and he wasn’t helping me any.

“No, listen,” he said, his voice soft all of the sudden, “he’ll hurt you, Stells.”

“Why do you care?” I shot back dryly.

“I’m looking out for you,” he cried defensively.

I took a deep breath and counted to ten, massaging my temples. When I replied, my voice clear and even. I didn’t sound angry or hurt. “We’re not even friends, Sean.”

The loudest silence I’d ever heard consumed the room. Sean stared down at me like he’d never seen me before until disgust and regret washed over his face. He turned his back to me and headed towards the door, not before saying, “You know, I thought you were different.”

The walls shook as he slammed the door behind him.

*

“…That’s all I remember,” I confessed, filling Christina in on everything she missed after she left me alone to die. Her eyes were wide and her jaw was below sea-level.

She took a deep breath before falling backwards on to her bed. “Wow…” she sighed. “That’s intense.”

I shrugged indifferently. “Sean was acting so annoying and different. I hated it.”

“Maybe he just…” she mumbled, her voice drifting off until it became inaudible. She sighed again. “He’s right. I was totally wrong for cheering you on yesterday and you really do need to stay away from Drew Buchanan.”

“We’re friends,” I muttered. I stretched my toes, popping them loudly in the way that Christina hated most.

“Still.”

“I wouldn’t stop hanging out with you if people told me to,” I replied in a clipped voice.

“Drew Buchanan and I are completely different,” she scoffed.

“How?”

“I, for one, don’t have a penis,” she elaborated, “and I’m not some stupid douche bag who thinks he’s the shit because he drives a motorcycle. That’s not even hardcore.”

I snorted. “Drew doesn’t try to be hardcore.”

Christina shook her head defiantly. “You don’t even know him! Until yesterday, you two had never had a real conversation!”

“I know that he was kind enough to let me spend the night after you ditched me.” I glared at her, boring holes into her face. She was just like Sean; acting like she knew what I wanted, what was best for me. “You know what?” I said suddenly, swinging my legs off her bed. “I’m going. I have ballet practice in an hour.”

That was the first real lie I’d ever told my best friend. I didn’t have ballet practice on Sundays. I wondered if she knew it then and let me go anyway.

I headed back home, angry at Sean for pretending to care, angry at Christina for siding with him, and angry that I had to walk because I didn’t have my fucking driver’s license.

*

“Stella, are you home, sweetie?” My mom called out into the house, even though I was not five feet away from her, face down on the couch. I mumbled a reply that got smothered in the cushion but she heard me none the less. “Oh, Stella baby, what’s wrong?”

I sniffled and sat up. I could feel the dried up tears on my face and I knew I looked like a wild banshee. Mom stood above me, looking at me in the way only a mother could. At the sight of my distressed appearance, she sat down and cradled my head in the crook of her neck.

“Shhh,” she breathed soothingly.

A sob got caught in my throat and made it hard to breathe. My feet felt like they’d just walked on a street of glass, my head felt like it got sat on by a sumo wrestler, and the rest of my entire body was completely drained. “I-I-I w-walked ho-home,” I confessed as she rubbed my back.

She gasped softly. “From Christina’s?”

I nodded into her shoulder. “W-We had a—had a fight.”

“Poor baby,” she cooed. “Your father will be home in a minute and he’ll take you up to your room, okay? Everything’s all right now…shh…poor baby.”

She walked me back and forth until my dad came up, whispering comforting words and making me feel better until I stopped crying. Daddy carried me up to my room and tucked me into bed, reminding me of Sean so much that I started to cry again the second he left.

I didn’t have the energy to get up, but if I did, I would’ve headed straight to the bathroom to throw up. I groaned in misery. What a shitty Sunday.

I don’t know how long I stayed there. Two decades, maybe. It was past lunch time the next time I heard a knock on my door and my stomach grumbled in response. Food, thank God, I thought. “Come in.”

The door cracked open and my face fell. Sean was standing there with a tray of food. My teeth locked together, preventing me from spitting out anything too vicious.

“Hey, Stells,” he said softly, looking like he was walking right into a lion’s den. “I was sent over to check on you.”

I didn’t reply. He placed the tray on my bed, complete with some tomato soup—my favorite—some toast, and a tall glass of water. My mouth watered and I dug in, ignoring the fact that he continued to stand there awkwardly.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Like shit,” I mumbled with a mouth full of food. “You?”

He shifted. “The same.” Sean rubbed the neck of his neck. “I guess we can get sick together,” he joked frigidly. He sniffled in emphasis.

After I sucked down the soup, crammed all the toast in my mouth and downed the entire drink, I was feeling dramatically better. I looked to Sean who had wandered over to my chair like he was waiting for an invitation to leave.

I sighed. “Hey, Sean…I’m sorry. About what I said. I really do want to be friends.”

He looked over and smiled. I was suddenly struck by how good-looking he was and I couldn’t believe I had forgotten. He was breathtakingly beautiful. I felt my palms getting slicker.

A small smile graced his plump pink lips. “You’re feeling better.” It wasn’t a question.

My face crumpled. He was forgiving me—I didn’t deserve to be forgiven. “I’m a bitch,” I told him, part of me hoping he’d agree, the other part terrified of his response.

Sean shook his head. Air gushed out of my lungs in relief when I hadn’t even realized I’d held my breath. “I guess it was my fault…”

My heart hammered, rushing blood to my face, and I shook my head. “No, I demand you take that back! Just say I’m a bitch and we can get over this whole ordeal. Start anew.”

“Anew?” he repeated teasingly. I giggled, feeling my face blush. “Who says ‘anew’?”

I puffed out my chest in a sign of pride. “This girl.” I grinned at him and he returned the favor.

I bit my lip, suddenly feeling shy. He was so beautiful and he was smiling at me in a way that made me feel the same. I thought I was going to explode in sheer joy, splattering the room with sunshine. And if I wasn’t mistaken…it almost felt like he liked me like I liked him. I blushed a deeper red at the thought.

Sean stood up suddenly and anticipation squirmed in my stomach. Maybe he was going to kiss me—

He walked right past my bed and to the door, smiling in a way that I couldn’t describe. It wasn’t fake, I could tell by the way it brightened his face, but it almost looked sheepish. “I…gotta’ go, Stells.”

Disappointment slumped my shoulders and I tried not the let it show on my face. Of course he had to go—he was Sean Winters and he didn’t have time to spare for an insignificant underclassman like me. “Okay,” I said, trying to look upbeat. My good mood was deflating the farther away he got.