♡Chapter One♡
"Earl hasn't texted me yet. I'm worried. Do you think he's going to break up with me?" Shanice Watson, my best friend, whines from across the table.
She's been complaining about her college boyfriend since this morning, so I just tune her out and continue playing with the fries on my plate.
We're having lunch at the cafeteria but I can barely manage to eat. Not by choice. My appetite has been low for more than a month now. It's to the point where I checked my weight this morning. I've realized I've lost almost ten pounds. A few more and I'll be dangerously close to being skinny. I know i shouldn't keep this up, but I just can't force myself to gain my appetite back.
Pathetic, but my health isn't the only thing suffering. My grades are falling and I'm in danger of failing. I find it hard to concentrate in my classes. I can't count the times I've been called on by my teachers for answers only to end up staring blankly at them.
Don't even get me started on my extra-curricular and after school activities. As the president of the Community Service Club,I should be on top of our latest projects. But if someone asks me what those projects are, I'll probably draw a blank.
Even my usually thriving babysitting-slash-tutoring job is currently on a hiatus.
I miss the kids I teach and look after a few nights a week. But what can I do? I'm distracted and miserable these days. I can't be around them in both conditions, or else, I'll just mess up. So I'm taking a break.
And the cause of all that? Well, he's just across the room.
Adrian Kingston.
The boy who broke my heart.
Don't look at him. Don't look at him.
But it's too late. My eyes have already betrayed me, straying back to his table, for the third time since I walked into the cafeteria.
Staring at him, a familiar ache twists in my chest. He's sitting with his best friends Zeke Bennet and Arnold Murphy, along with a few guys, laughing and showing off that damn dimple.
Ughhh I really hate that dimple.
He's not looking my way, thank God. Otherwise he would've caught me looking. Agaiiinnn!! The number of times he did in the past week alone makes me want to claw my eyes out.
Trishilla Brown, Zeke's girlfriend, is also in the table with them. As always, the new couple looks to be lost in their own world. Their heads are bent close together, whispering to each other. The two of them are so cute together it's practically nauseating.
"Phoebe are you even listening?"
I peel my gauze away from their table, focusing back on my best friend.
What is she talking about again?
Oh, right. Earl.
"Didn't he just call you last night?"
"But he said he'd text me today," Shanice pouts.
I stifle an eye-roll.
If there's a poster child for uber-clingy girlfriends, it's Shanice. Sometimes I even wonder how her relationship managed to last this long. She's been dating Earl for over two years now, starting when we were only sophomores and he was a junior.
I thought they'd finally break up when he moved two hundred miles away for college, but they surprisingly stayed together. Shanice even told me she's planning to attend the same University he goes to when we graduate next year.
I'm alittle skeptic but I don't want to spoil her plans. She's really excited about it.
"Chill Sha. He's probably busy with his classes. Why don't you call him later when you go home?"
"But what if he doesn't want to talk to me?"
Oh for God's sake. This time I don't stop from rolling my eyes. "You're being silly."
"I can't help it!" She whimpers, then eyes the fries on my plate. "Are you going to eat those?"
Lips twitching in amusement,I push my plate towards her. "Help yourself."
"I'm supposed to be on a diet," Shanice says wistfully, but then shrugs and picks up some fries. "I'll start again tomorrow."
We're about the same height—around five-nine. But while I have a willowy frame, Shanice has always been curvy—great rack, small waist, wide hips, big butt.
Boys love looking at her. They literally trip over themselves just to get her attention. And she eats it all up. But there are times when she hates looking at herself in the mirror. She says as much whenever we go shopping and she struggles to find the "perfect" pair of jeans.
She blames her mom— who was a beauty queen back in Mauritius before moving here—who's looks she inherited.
Which is a load of bull, because she's absolutely gorgeous. Aside from having an hourglass figure, Shanice has luscious black hair and naturally golden brown skin that doesn't require tanning to maintain the colour. Lucky girl.
I, on the other hand, have to spend sometime under the sun just so I won't be pasty-white. And my light brown hair just emphasizes my pale complexion.
"Anyway what are you planning to do tonight?" Before I can open my mouth, she quickly adds, "Please don't say you're going to mop around again."
I glare at her. "I never said that."
She points a fry at me. "You're right. You just do."
"I'm not moping around."
Shanice arches a brow. "Then why did you make a breakup Spotify playlist and listen to it everyday?"
"Shhhhhh. Lower your voice down."
She's right though. I've been reduced to a pathetic mess ever since I broke up with Adrian. No, scratch that. Ever since he broke up with me.
My first boyfriend, (well not really first, excluding my middle school rendezvous with Rodney Jackson, at Horizon High), my first everything. And my first heartache.
It sucks.
If this is what love always entails, then I'm going to swear off committed relationships for the rest of my life. Then I wouldn't have to get hurt and endure a broken heart again.
I'll just be that cool-middle aged woman who loves to travel, reads novels and remains romantically unattached, only entertaining casual relationships and having meaningless sex.
God, that's sounds depressing.
I'm not a hopeless romantic by any means. That's all Sha. But I've always known that I want to get married and have my own family someday. And I've always envisioned Adrian to be my husband.
Until the day he dumped me.
Now I can't even stand to hear the word "wedding."
"Is he still trying to talk to you?" Shanice glances over her shoulder at him.
"Yeah."
Adrian tried to talk to me this morning. For the thousandth time. But just like his previous attempts, I completely ignored him. Once again, his lousy explanations fell on deaf ears.
Did he honestly think I'd give him the time of the day after he heartlessly dumped me in the locker hall for everyone to see? And then refused to listen when I tried to explain myself? Turnabout's fair play right?
Besides, as far as I'm concerned, there's nothing to talk about anymore..I don't even want to see his face.
Then why do you keep on seeking him out, you hypocrite.
"Shut up."
"What?" Shanice gives me a confused look.
"Um, nothing."
"Slut." A guy wearing a thick eyeliner coughs into his hand as he passes by our table. His equally emo-looking friend behind him snickers.
"It wasn't her. Didn't you get the memo?" Shanice snaps, making them jump and scurry away. She even throws a few fries at them, causing me to choke out a laugh. "Jerkwads."
God, I love this girl. Drama queen aside, she's the bestest best friend a girl can have. She's been there for me when half the school shut me out and treated me like a pariah, pouncing at anyone who dared to talk crap about me. She's been my rock through the whole ordeal.
"I can't believe your stilll getting hell for that." Our friend, Birdie St.Claire sets her tray down the table and sits next to me.
"It's hard not to when there are pictures of her and Booker kissing," Lisbeth Silver chimes in, malice coating her voice as she settles down beside Shanice.
I glare at her. "Not my fault. He mistook me for someone else."
A simple case of mistaken identity and the root cause of my misery. Only it hadn't been simple. Because when a very drunk Booker Shaw mistakenly grabbed and kissed me at a houseparty, someone took pictures and posted them online.
Pictures that looked so damning Adrian was convinced that they were real.
It's almost amazing how fast I went from being one of the most popular girls to the biggest outcast. From being dubbed as The Darrow School's "Princess Diana" to being called the "biggest slut" in the planet. It only took a few malicious pictures to ruin both my relationship and reputation with Adrian.
I learned one thing though. That when it comes down to it,save for a few selected people, the whole school would side with Adam without verifying facts. Hell, even some of the teachers had looked at me like I murdered their beloved son.
Because my ex isn't just any boy. He's the senior class president who spearheads successful group programs left and right, and the top candidate for valedictorian who's believed to be a shoo-in for an Ivy league school, and the one voted most likely to succeed since freshman year.
He's also the most popular boy in school. And one of the hottest. His raven black hair, amber meltingly soft eyes and dimpled smile give him those good looks that girls swoon over. Even his prescription glasses add to his appeal.
But more than his looks and his academic achievement, Adam possesses a winning personality that makes everyone love him. It's what drew me to him in the first place.
Golden boy of The Darrow School, that's what he is.
And once you hurt the golden boy, you hurt the whole school.
I wish I can say that he made everyone hurl those whispered insults and dark glares at me. That would make him the bad guy right? But I can't. Adrian may have acted like a jerk when he dumped me, but he's far from being one.
Even when he thought I still cheated on him, he still went out of his way to defend me whenever he heard someone talk crap about me. He even landed in detention one time when he punched a guy for calling me a "cheating whore." I personally witnessed that.
So, no, even after what Adrian did, I can't find myself to hate him.
If there's any bright side to the whole thing though, it's that I found out who my real friends are.
"Your friend's a real piece of work, Lisbeth," Shanice says, dragging me back to the present.
"It's really shitty of her to make Phoebe take the blame." Birdie tucks an errant lock of red hair behind her ear, her new layered bob looking so good on her.
Wait. Are they talking about Mia Score? The same girl who Booker mistook me for?
My expression hardens. It turned out she was the one hooking up with him. But instead of owning up to it, she let me become the scapegoat and continued on with their affair in secret, with everybody else none the wiser.
I tried to convince Booker to tell everyone the truth. But Mia had so much hold over him,he wouldn't even budge. He even pretended not to remember and said that I was probably the one who initiated the kiss.
Please.
If it weren't for Zeke and Trishilla, nobody would know the truth. I'd still be a social pariah. Oh, there are still some people— like those two emo jerks— who believe I really cheated on Adrian. But it's only a few of them so they don't bother me much. I just ignore them and let Shanice do her protective bestie thing.
"I know. Mia is sorry about the whole thing, Phoebe." Lisbeth gives me a faux sympathetic smile.
Ugh, she's so fake. Why do we even put up with her?
Like Shanice, Birdie stood by me during those dark times. Lisbeth? Not so much. I even heard her telling someone that she once saw me making out with a soccer player in the boy's lockeroom.
"Yeah, right," Shanice scoffs. "Mia is only sorry that she was caught. She doesn't care about Phoebe."
"That's not true. Mia—"
"What are you even doing here, Lisbeth?" I finally snap. "Shouldn't you be following her around like a good minion?"
Birdie chokes on her soda can while Sha laughs shamelessly.
"I'm not her minion!" Lisbeth sputters, her cheeks reddening.
I just roll my eyes and look away, my gaze wandering back to that table.
Big mistake.
Because my eyes lock with his right then. How long has he been staring at me? And why does he always give me that look? Like I did him wrong. Like I was the one who hurt him.
"He looks like a lost puppy," Birdie comments, apparently staring at him as well.
Lisbeth clucks her tongue. "Poor Adrian."
Shanice turns up her nose. "Serves him right if you ask me."
Like the true best friend she is, Shanice started hating on Adrian when he broke up with me. Especially after everybody gave me the cold shoulder.
"Can we not talk about him, please? As far as I'm concerned, we're done."
Lisbeth turns to me with a calculating gleam in her eyes. " If you don't want anything to do with him anymore, then you wouldn't mind if I go and cheer him up right?"
Birdie whips her head to her. "Seriously, Lisbeth?"
"What is wrong with you?" Shanice practically yells.
Lisbeth simply ignores them, her attention still focused on me, waiting expectantly for my answer.
"He's all yours," I tell her with a cold smile. Then I pick up my tray and rise from the table, painfully aware of a particular pair of eyes watching after me as I walk away.
