The Heartbroken - S01 E04

Story 2 years ago

The Heartbroken - S01 E04

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 4

Continuation

“You’re welcome. Want

a drink?” he asked me.

The guys almost

automatically scooted

to make space for me.

When I realized what I

was doing, I almost

stepped back,

wondering what on

earth had gone into me.

I would have left,

pretending none of

that

ever happened, if I

hadn’t caught sight of

my reflection on the

glass surface of the

Juice Bar’s fridge. I

looked different. I

looked like I wasn’t as

broken outside as I

was

inside.

So I looked at the guy

again. “Why not?”

That was the end of

my relationship with

Cedric.

The guy from that

night? He was my

second kiss. With

tongue. Which, to me,

back then was pretty

much screamed

marriage and

commitment. Of course

it wasn’t. It was just a

one-night make out

session. In a juice bar.

With all his friends

there.

With Cedric watching in

the distance, frozen in

shock.

The name of that guy?

I had no idea.

Ironic, really, how the

end was also

somehow

the beginning of

something else. That

was how I began

plotting my revenge.

That was how I began

coming to the

realization that in all

this—

I hated Cedric.

Wow. Is there not a

limit as to how much a

guy could actually be

such an egotistical,

bigheaded, cocky jerk?

Well, with Mr. I-Have-

Nice-Biceps-Right? guy,

I

guess there isn’t. And

frankly? He disgusted

me to death. Especially

since 1) he had

absolitely no idea how

drunk he was, 2) he

wasxin love with his

biceps, 3) and he

practically wanted to

kiss me the moment

he

saw me.

He smiled at me. “Well,

Karla—”

“It’s Kyla,” I corrected

him.

He looked around the

room. “Where?” he

asked, and I fought the

urge to slap him. He

didn’t even know my

name. So as he looked

around the room with

all these swaying,

sober, half-drunk, really

drunk party people

dancing to the lame

Super Bass song, I tried

my best not to hit

Biceps Guy where it

hurt.

I could do that. I could

kick him right there—

he’d probably swear,

most likely cause a big

ruckus that would

attract the attention

of

the room, and end up

crying like the big baby

he was—and I’d just

act all childish-like and

innocent, tell him I

didn’t mean to, kiss

him, and he’ll forget it.

As easy as one-two-

three.

Fortunately, though, I

didn’t do that. Not

because I could actually

control my temper

(trust me, I have anger

management issues),

and especially not

because I was nice and

I didn’t want him to cry

like a baby in the middle

of a high school party

where half the student

body could see him. No.

In fact, it was because

of this: I didn’t want to

end up kissing him.

Period.

I mean, did he even

brush his teeth? Those

yellow—yellow

unidentified objects

stuck to his gums

were

just repulsing. There

was simply no way I

would kiss him.

So I stood up from his

lap, where I somehow

ended up five minutes

ago when he pulled me

down with him.

“Where’re you going?”

he asked me.

I gave him my best

look, batting my

eyelashes at him, and

bent down to whisper

something into his ear.

By the way his whole

body tensed, I knew he

was turned on. Way

turned on.

“So, I’ll just wait for

you upstairs. I think

the

bedrooms are

available,” he

whispered

back—huskily, I might

add. While some people

could be sexy with the

whole husky voice, he

simply sounded like a

drunk pervert.

“Sure. I’ll be there in a

minute,” I said and

winked at him.

He jumped out of his

seat, clearly excited. I

sighed and watched as

he disappeared into the

crowd of dancing

people, up the stairs,

while I stood there and

paused, before turning

to the door to leave.

The party was a dump.

There were hardly any

cute guys. And besides,

Cedric wasn’t there, so

what was the point?

When I walked out the

door, I never planned

on

staying back. I had no

plans of going to the

room where Biceps

Guy,

most likely undressed,

would be waiting for

me.

No Cedric, no thanks.

“Yo, Evans.”

I looked to my side.

Only

one person ever called

me that. Excluding my

teachers, but I really

didn’t expect to find

them standing in the

middle of a high school

party where students

are getting drunk,

getting laid, or getting

silly. So despite the

lack of light, I knew

who it was.

Seth Everett.

“Need a drink?” he

asked me.

“Nah. I’m leaving,” I

said

and eyed the skanky

girl

draped all over him. By

the way her lipstick

was smudged, I was

guessing they were in

the middle of

something. And by the

way her blue eyes sent

cold glares in my

direction, it was a no-

brainer that she did not

like the interruption.