Cliche

“Sometimes I don’t know what haunts me more… The memories of you or the happy person I used to be.”

-Ranata Suzuki

The water chilled Luke’s skin as it hit his face and fell back into the sink beneath him. He opened his eyes and stared blankly at the dark circles surrounding them. The bags accentuated their icy blue color. Sleepless nights led to worse days, and today would be horrible.

“Disastrous,” he mumbled to himself. Today, he planned to break up with Charlie, his girlfriend of a year and a half. Charlie is kind, Charlie is understanding, Charlie is kind, Charlie is understanding… were the only thoughts that made him certain that he would do it today.

But Charlie was also popular. She was rich; her family had a lot of political power. She was gorgeous, she was friendly, she had her pick of any guy at school, and she chose him. Luke. The film nerd who appreciated the beauty behind cinematography and had about five friends in his exclusive group. When he broke it off, the entire school would know within 24 hours.

Luke sighed and rested his head against the mirror above the sink. He wouldn’t do it over text; he wasn’t that much of an asshole. It would have to be at school. Maybe after third period. Or before. Third period was math for both of them, and they sat across the room from each other, unlike in English, where she sat right next to him. He wouldn’t have English until tomorrow, so math seemed like a good plan.

But all of those people, he thought, knowing that there would be too many people that knew her. He wouldn’t be able to break the news without embarrassing her. After school it is. Luckily she had a meeting during lunch with the rest of the Student Body Officers, leaving Luke to his own group of friends. If he could just avoid talking to her too much during math...

“Jesus Christ, I can’t do this,” he whispered, standing up straight and flipping off the light as he left the bathroom. School started in ten minutes, and Charlie had texted him eight times asking where he was. This was the reason he really needed to leave her. “Clingy,” he mumbled to himself as he ran out the door with a lump in his throat.

The day was torture. Luke couldn’t pay any attention to his science teacher’s lecture when all that his mind was focusing on was how painful it would be to see Charlie. She’d lean in for a kiss, something she’d done hundreds of times, and he’d have to stop her from doing so.

She wasn’t in math. It was almost relieving. A couple of her friends explained to him that she had to help the PTA prepare for graduation and would be done about two hours after school. He texted her to meet him by his car after she was done and allowed himself to relax just a bit. The groups of students had cleared, the parking lot was empty.

Charlie exited the building, her red curls bouncing around her shoulders.

Her face lit up when she saw Luke and she jogged over to him. She didn’t try to kiss him like he thought, she just wrapped her freckle-covered arms around him and rested her head against his chest.

Sweat dripped down the sides of his face. Butterflies soared in his stomach and up to his throat. Charlie peered up at him, her green eyes shining in the sunlight that beat down on them, worsening his already sweaty condition.

“Guess what, Sugarbear? I’ve been assigned-” She looked up at him with an excited gleam in her eyes until she saw his worrying. She always knew when he was upset. “What’s wrong?”

Her expression turned to concern and Luke shook his head, his shaggy brown hair falling in his face. Charlie reached up and brushed it up out of his eyes with her fingers.

“Well, Char. I’ve been thinking a lot over the past month or so, and I think… well, I think…”

“For Pete’s sake spit it out.”

“I think we should break up.” Her jaw dropped open and she started to talk. “Please, just let me explain. It’s not you, it’s not me, I just… I think that I’m not giving you everything you deserve and… and… oh God this is so hard. It’s for the best if we split. I’ll always love you, just not in the same way as I used to.”

Her expression darkened, she turned her gaze to the ground and a tear streaked down the side of her face.

He reached up to wipe it away. “Char…”

“Just don’t,” she whispered, swatting his hand away. She turned her back to him and walked to her car with her feet dragging on the asphalt.

He got back into his car and drove home, tears stinging his eyes.

#

Luke threw his bag down on the couch and just about punched a wall. His phone had been blowing up with messages from Charlie’s friends bashing him and messages from his own friends congratulating him on “finally realizing that he didn’t love her anymore and that she was too clingy for him”. One of them caught his eye, however. It was from Charlie herself.

He had expected that she would be pissed at him for breaking up with her, but instead, she was apologizing.

Luke, I’m sorry for how I acted earlier. It was very mature of you to do it how you did and I couldn’t be more grateful for all the things you taught me in the past year and a half. Forever yours, Charlie.

He didn’t respond, feeling as though it might ruin the sincerity of the moment. A sigh of relief escaped his lungs, even as a few more messages popped up.

#

Two days after the breakup, Luke went out to his front porch to find a cardboard box with a note taped to the top. The note read “Closet purging” with a heart written in black sharpie.

He heaved the box inside and dumped out its contents on his bed. There were five sweatshirts, a few pajama shirts, and a few other miscellaneous items that he had left at Charlie’s house. A white envelope fell out of the box, and Luke tore it open without a second thought. Inside were thirteen polaroid pictures. Twelve of them being from each of their monthly anniversaries until their one-year.

They included pictures at an amusement park, at the upscale restaurant Charlie’s parents owned, and the trip to Hawaii he had surprised her with for their one-year. Each picture showed them kissing and flipping them to the back revealed a date, time, location, and what month they were celebrating, all done in Charlie’s careful handwriting, a different color pen was used every time. The 13th polaroid was the most recent one they had taken.

The 18th month anniversary picture showed Luke and Charlie in Disneyland, kissing in front of Sleeping Beauty’s castle. Charlie had Minnie Mouse ears buried in her curly red hair and Luke held a Mickey Mouse balloon. Fireworks lit up the sky behind them and a memory flashed in front of Luke’s eyes. They handed the Polaroid camera to the photographer, insisting he capture the exact moment of the fireworks finale.

The guy had done a killer job.

Luke carefully placed the pictures back in the envelope and tucked it into a drawer that was full of memories, pictures mostly.

The pictures were safe in the drawer. They were good memories to have. He picked up his phone and texted Charlie a brief “thank you” for the clothes back and for the pictures. She responded almost immediately. Anytime, Luke. Have a good weekend.

He didn’t respond, throwing his phone onto his bed. Everything seemed to be going fine. He was graduating in two weeks, he was going to the New York Film School with a full-ride scholarship, and he had somehow managed to maintain his sanity through a breakup with Charlie. Nothing could go wrong.