Unwritten Pages

I'm an idiot.

No surprise there.

God, I'm so stupid. I think back to Desiree's horrified expression as she watches me kiss Liane... Does she... Does she think that I'm...dating her?

No...please no. I think back to when we were in the girl's bathroom. I had told her that I would never be with Liane. Does she remember that? Maybe she thinks I was joking and is crying right now.

Dammit, I'm such an idiot. Desiree trusted me... And what did I do? Break her heart.

Dammit, Desiree, she pushed herself onto me.

And what would Desiree say? I can hear it already. It's your fault you let her! I saw you with my own eyes!

Still, I have to try and convince Desiree later that I wasn't actually with Liane. But I doubt that she will hear me out.

...What had I been thinking when I was messing with Liane?

I think back to the phone call. Where Desiree told me to hook up with Liane and mess around in beds. I wonder if she thought I took it literally. Now she thinks I'll become a player.

I'm not sure if she'll tell Arianna or not. If she does, Arianna will be pissed at me. But... Arianna will know to as me through and through before she assumes that I'm an insensitive bastard.

I wonder if I really am an insensitive bastard. That title seems about right. For all the bad things I've done. I might as well be an idiot too.

I groan and I think back...

“Andrew Campbell!” Her expression is full of pain, hurt, regret and hatred. I'm speechless. I don't know what to say during this moment.

“Uh...” I hit myself mentally for soundly absolutely stupid.

“He's with me,” Liane says before any of us can say anything else. She blinks innocently at Desiree. Desiree looks as if she can't believe what is going on.

And I don't think I can believe it either.

Just a few moments ago, I was kissing Liane. Kissing Liane. That was one of the worst of sins. I feel like a major player—staring at Desiree's expression.

Like a jerk. Like I'm back in ninth and tenth grade, where being with Desiree was completely out of my league.

But this time... Somehow... It feels worse.

I know I shouldn't feel bad, because technically, Desiree and I are over. We have some leftover feelings, yes, but we're over. We shouldn't care.

But I can't help myself from caring.

And we had broken up because of a stupid argument about Drew Sorauren.

There's silence around us for a few seconds as the words Liane had spoken finally sinks in. Desiree looks at me, her brown eyes full of hatred mixed with other emotions.

“Y-you liar,” she says, almost inaudible.

“What did he lie about?” Liane asks, sounding like the bitch she is. “Oh, wait—he promised to be with you forever and ever and ever. And you—you look like just the idiotic girl to fall for it.”

There is no denying that Desiree's eyes are filling with tears now.

“Obviously, Andrew had no interest in you. It was all a game. That's what guys do! Play games with your head! Luckily, I'm not one of those stupid girls to fall for it...”

I want to say that everything's false. This is all lies and false truths. It's not true. But for some reason, my throat feels like it's frozen and i can't say anything. I can't do anything but stare at Desiree.

No, I'm thinking, Desiree, please don't believe her.

I can't speak.

“Anyway, I know that you knew each other for...what? Four years? And you dated for two, am I right? Anyway, Andrew only truly liked for for...uh, about a month, really. And then after that? It was all games? Did he get you in bed yet? Oh, right, he didn't. Maybe he didn't feel like you were good enough.” There's a wicked sneer on Liane's face.

“Stop it,” Desiree whispers.

“Oh, shut up! You're such a cry baby, for God's sake, grow up!” Liane puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head with contempt.

Desiree casts me a look. I don't know what to do—that's how stupid I am.

I finally find my voice. But I don't know what to say. “Desiree, I—”

But Desiree cuts me off.

“So I guess you really are going to mess around in everyone's beds,” she says, her voice plain of emotion. Icy, frozen... That tone makes my chest hurt instantly... “You know, I can't believe I ever trusted you.”

“Desiree, you can trust me!” I say that because I can't stand the thought of Desiree doubting my words—the truth.

“Trust,” she says, “is hard to gain and easy to lose.”

“No, Desiree,” I say, my voice sounding desperate in my ears. Great, now I sound like I was guilty of everything Liane had said.

“I'm an idiot,” she says softly. I hear Liane give a short laugh beside me. “I'm an idiot to ever think that you would come clean.”

She continues. “You with the drugs and all. Winter should have never rescued you. She should have left you on the streets to die and commit crimes. And to die as a criminal. I wish I never met you,” she says before turning away.

“Good, leave,” Liane mutters.

“Desiree! It's not like that!”

“I know exactly what I see,” she says, her back still turned before she starts to run.

I shut my eyes tightly. I hate that memory. It stings at me. I can't believe that I can be so stupid. Actually—I can.

Idiot, idiot, idiot.

I can't believe I didn't say anything when Desiree caught me... When Desiree caught me...cheating.

To be honest, I'm not like other guys. I don't like cheating in relationships. I guess you can say that I'm a nice guy, though I don't think I'm very nice. Maybe you can call me a hopeless romantic... But I'm not very romantic either. Movies and novels that are purely based about romance and nothing else makes me hurl.

I'm not like other guys... I'm just...me. If that counts at all.

And I don't like cheating. I don't like being unfaithful. It's just... It's just not right.

I open my eyes and think about Liane. Right after Desiree had left, I told Liane to get the hell away from me. Not that I screamed at her or anything—I just told her to leave. It had sounded weary when I said it.

I hear Winter's song running through my brain. The one she wrote for...us. The one she wrote for Desiree and I.



I didn't cherish every moment with her. I didn't think that we'd ever be apart. I know it sounds so...fabricated, stupid and naive. But it's true. I didn't think that we'd ever be apart, as stupid as it sounds.

Beautiful hate, all right. The way she smiles—I still remember what it looks like. But... The memory of her smile is overwhelmed by the memory of her tears.

God, I'm such a jerk.

And not to mention—an idiot.

Damn.

“Andrew! We're leaving in ten minutes!” My mother is calling from downstairs.

I'm in my room again. And it's still Thursday—a week since Winter's death. It's been about an hour since the encounter with Desiree.

Earlier today was the phone call—an hour ago was...Liane and her stupid tricks.

I hate myself.

I'm not wallowing in self pity—or at least, I hope I'm not.

I'm such an idiot.

Now I'm getting fed up with myself. I know how idiotic I am, but I know I have to move on. I can't just think about this for hours. Heck, I've already thought about it for an hour!

I get up from my bed. Today, I was suppose to think of something to say for Winter's funeral. I came up with nothing.

I don't have any more business in my room, so I leave and head to the living room. I don't want to watch the television—I barely do that anymore.

I hate watching the television, it takes time away from...doing other stuff.

I frown, what other stuff? All I can conjure is an image of Desiree. I must have spent time with her of course—instead of watching television.

I enter the living room to find my parents still here—sitting on the couch and watching the news—or whatever they're watching.

My father sees me. “Come sit, Andrew! We've got around ten minutes left before we head off.”

I don't say anything. I sit on the smaller couch that no one is sitting on. I don't have much to do other than watch whatever program my parents are watching.

So I guess they are watching the news.

And just then, that special news comes on.

“Today is the funeral of a departed high school student—Winterlyn Evaline Lawly. Lawly had died just last week. Her death has been ruled out to be a suicide. No charges were placed. Students from their high school are welcomed to come to her funeral to honour this student. Here is Liane Chau—one of Lawly's classmates—”

“I'm going to get a snack from the kitchen,” I say loudly and get up. I do not want to see Liane right now—not even on the television. I don't want to hear what kind of horrible things that Liane will say about Winter. Okay—she probably won't say horrible things, but I don't want her talking about Winter like she knows her. Period.

I walk into the kitchen and grab a chocolate bar and sit by the kitchen table. I can't hear what's going on in the living room because the volume is too low—thank God. I peel open the wrapper and start to bite into it—

“Andrew! Isn't that your girlfriend?” My father asks.

If the chocolate bar was already in my mouth, I would have choked on it. But that doesn't stop me from choking on my own spit—which is very embarrassing. But I have no audience, so I shouldn't be embarrassed.

“Well?”

I'm coughing right now. I try to speak. “No—” I cough, cutting myself off. Unfortunately, my cough had covered up what I had just said. Or maybe my parents just chose to ignore it.

My mother enters the kitchen. “You know, the sweet little Asian girl,” she says, smiling.

If I had been drinking something, I would have accidentally spit it out from shock and horror. Too bad I wasn't—if I was, I could show my dislike for Liane.

“Oh, she's a nice one, isn't she?” My mother is beaming at me.

“Mom, she's not my girlfriend,” I say.

“Oh don't deny it! You're too cute!”

“I'm eighteen,” I say simply. “I'm too old to be cute.”

“Nonsense!” She looks at me in mock horror. “How dare you say that when a woman of old age stand before you?”

I shrug. Normally, I would have laughed. But after the mention of Liane being my girlfriend, I've lost all humour. Liane is not my girlfriend. Desiree is—well, technically, she isn't. But I still feel as if she belongs to me. Well...not really belonging to me... But I still feel like she's mine and I'm hers.

“Anyways,” my mother continues, not noticing my mood. “Liane Chau is simply adorable! She's so sweet!”

I don't feel like correcting her so I let her go on with no indication of what Liane is to me. But I also let her go on about it because I want to hear her impressions of Liane (which, so far, is all wrong) and what Liane had told her.

“She's so sensitive and helpful. She was Winter's friend, wasn't she?” I don't think that's a question she wants me to answer.

“Liane's a once in a lifetime girl. You got lucky, Andrew Campbell,” she says happily.

Once in a lifetime alright, I think bitterly, once in a lifetime bitch.

“She's not my girlfriend,” is all I say. Which is basically what I had said earlier. And like before, my mother ignores that.

“Oh, I'm so proud that you found a girl like that! She's so considerate of everyone's feelings!”

Considerate? I almost choke on my own spit again. Considerate of everyone's feelings? Then she wouldn't have set her eyes on trying to destroy Desiree.

“Such a sweet girl, that Liane,” she says dreamily, as if imagining my wedding with that excuse of a woman. I cringe at that thought.

“Yeah. Maybe in your eyes,” I mutter. She doesn't hear me.

“Anyways! Let's get in the car. We have to be on time!”

I sigh as my mother leaves the kitchen. I quickly finish the chocolate bar before throwing away the wrapper. I run upstairs and grab my phone and put it in my pocket before I leave.

I don't know why I did that. It feels kind of disrespectful to Winter. But most of the school will be there. So I can imagine that most of the girls will text during the funeral.

I don't even know why they would bother to come.

Anyway, I enter the car with my parents. They're talking about Liane, it figures.

Liane is a manipulative bitch. End of story. But how they got my parents too... That girl is just...kind of insane, to put it straight.

I shiver at the thought of Liane manipulating my parents. An odd thought associated with an even odder image.

I hear my mother say, “that sweetheart Liane!”

And then my father says something quietly, but I catch it. “Maybe a better choice than Desiree Lilian.”