Erika – Aged 17

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Noah had kissed me last night. He’d pressed me up against my bedroom door and kissed me, and then he’d left. And this morning was the day he’d leave, off to college to study to become a doctor of all damn things.

And I’d be left as confused and frustrated as I’d been throughout my entire high-school career. All because of him.

“Damn you,” I muttered, turning over in my bed.

It was a Saturday morning, and already past 10:00 a.m. I’d refused to get up in case Noah had decided to show up to the house. Judging by the muted laughter from upstairs, the music too, he’d turned up as expected.

“I’m done with you too.” That was what he’d said. Once again, I was the idiot who’d fallen for his charms. He’d kissed me, and I’d practically melted in on myself.

First, there’d been the earlobe kiss before his prom. Then there’d been nothing but meanness for the last three months, and now, that he’d finally decided he was leaving the house behind, not following whatever his parents wanted him to do, he did this.

Kissed me. Actually kissed me.

I groaned and rolled over, burying my face in my pillow. I had to rid myself of this feeling.

It had clearly been his plan to make me uncomfortable from the start, or to make me look and feel like a fool. And he’d totally achieved that. He’d one hundred percent achieved what he’d set out to do, because I couldn’t even get out of bed this morning.

That thought drove me out from under the covers and toward my bedroom door, shoving my glasses onto my face as I went. If I could wash up and get my day started, even if it was just to work on my school project for Friday next week, it would be better than this.

Pining after the guy who’d made an idiot of me.

“OK, let’s do this,” I muttered, and opened my bedroom door.

Noah stood in front of it, his fist raised to knock. Downstairs, music thumped on. No doubt Marc was still down there, doing whatever it was that he did on a Saturday morning. Annoying me.

“What do you want?” I asked. Would he be the kissable Noah today? Or the asshole?

“Woo, that’s morning breath.” Noah stepped back, waving a hand in front of his nose. Ah, the asshole, then. To be fair, I hadn’t brushed my teeth yet. “Shit, four-eyes, do you usually sleep this late on a Saturday?”

“That’s literally none of your business,” I replied.

“You sure about that?” he asked. “After last night?”

“Asshole,” I hissed. “Just leave me alone. Get out of my way.”

“I am going to leave you alone,” he replied, grinning now, that college-football-jerk smile. God, I wanted to punch him in the face. “I’m just letting you know, Erika, that I’m leaving, and that I’m so fucking glad I don’t have to see you anymore.”

My heart dropped like a stone. I blinked at the sheer anger in his tone. “What? Are you—what?”

“Did I stutter?” he asked. “I’m glad I won’t have to be around you anymore. I told you, four-eyes, I’m done with you, and I can’t wait to be out of this fucking town, out your life. The next time you see me, I’ll be an accomplished doctor, and you’ll be—what? Some kind of glorified gardener?”

“Paleontology is the study of dinosaurs and ancient—”

“Whatever,” he said and waved it away. “Later, nerd.” He turned and swaggered off toward the front door, away from me, carrying that aura of anger and meanness with him.

I stared after him, gripping my door so hard it shook. “Later?” I called after him. “Try never. You’re a loser, Noah Cox. That’s your problem with me. You’re a loser, and I’m not.” I slapped my bedroom door shut before he had the opportunity to reply and paced back and forth across my fluffy rug.

What the hell? What the actual hell?

Why would he do that? Why would he have come out of his way to find me this morning and verbally accost me? Why was he like this?

I spread my arms wide. “It doesn’t matter,” I said, dragging my hands through the air. “It doesn’t matter, and it never will. He’s gone now, and I don’t have to put up with his weird ass anymore.” No more temper tantrums or flipped switches. Just me, focused on my schoolwork and my future, which certainly wouldn’t involve him.

But the anger burned in my gut, regardless.

It was just the fact that he’d come forward again, just to hurt me one last time. I got it. I understood that he didn’t have the best home life with his oh-so-rich and unavailable parents, but that wasn’t an excuse for him to act like an insulting and emotional spastic.

“Asshole!” I screeched and charged over to my bedroom door. I ripped it open and marched down the stairs and to the front porch.

Noah was already in his car—some fancy BMW that totally suited his dickishness down to a tee—with Marc standing by the window. They spoke to each quietly, Marc gave him one of those bro-handshakes and backed up, and Noah started the car.

Neither of them had noticed me yet. I kept my angry scream at bay, but Noah looked up, just then and caught my gaze. He smirked, and it was the final straw.

“Good riddance,” I mouthed, at him, then lifted my middle finger and held it in the air. “Fuck you.” Both of them were silent, but my gesture had the desired impact.

The smile disappeared. Noah flipped his sunglasses down and turned away from me. The car drove off, and he was gone. For good.

Finally, I was alone. Finally.

I stood watching that Beemer until it turned the corner, and when it finally winked out of sight, a hollow spot opened up in the pit of my stomach.

Alone.