This was the second story I wrote that wasn't for a school project.
I stood there, still as I possibly could, light shining through the trees. The yellow light scattered on the ground in stray beams. A wide beam of warm sunlight reflected off of my hair, making it look even more shiny than usual. The long, honey yellow tresses fell all the way down to my waist. I had my hair curled for the party. I expected it to be a wonderful party, and it was. It was Spring Break and all of the people I invited were able to make it. The make-up I had on was amazing, or at least it used to be. The sunbeams would have been wonderful for the party, but not now.
Blush and liquid eyeliner streamed down my cheeks with the tears that were escaping from my now puffy eyes. I held so tightly onto my purple sundress that if I jerked my arm away, it might rip. Tears dripped onto my black leggings and knee-high patterned Converses. We, as in my band, another band who I was really close friends with (Tally Hall), my boyfriend, and me were cleaning up after the fabulous party that had finished half an hour earlier. But now I stood in front of my boyfriend, Frank Andres, looking like a mess. They had just finished taking about ten trash bags down to the end of the driveway.
Frank had come up to me and said the worst possible thing he could have said to me ever. He had broken up with me. I felt like I was going to be sick. My knees were shaking, my lips trembling, my eyes red and stinging.
“I’m sorry, Serena. But I think we would be better off as just friends. The relationship just wasn’t working out for me. Let me know if we can still be friends.” Said Frank. I nodded slightly, letting him know that I would call him and that he could leave. Everybody else had stopped dead in there tracks when they heard me gasp about fifteen minutes earlier. Now the yard was basically clean.
Suddenly, I collapsed onto the pavement. I heard footsteps crunching in the grass, before slapping against the pavement that surrounded the jellybean shaped pool. I felt a hand on my back. I looked up and saw Joe and Zubin hovering over me. Ashley squatted next to me with her hand on my back. Joe walked around and kneeled in front of me. I changed the way I sat until my knees were touching and my feet rested on the concrete pavement that was one foot below from where I sat. Laurel had gone inside the house and had grabbed a brush, a box of tissues, and my Vera Bradley make-up bag. She handed the brush to Ashley, who started brushing out the curls very gently. Joe grabbed the box of tissues from Laurel, took a few out, and handed them to me.
While Zubin rubbed my back, Ashley brushed my hair, and Joe kept his hand on my knee, I just kept on crying my eyes out until I couldn’t anymore. I wasted about half the box of tissues.
When I couldn’t cry anymore, Laurel used some make-up remover and tissues to wipe the dried, streaked make-up off of my face. She then opened the make-up bag and grabbed a tube of brown liquid eyeliner and gently smudged it onto my upper lash lines. She then swept some rosy blush onto my apples up to my hairline and applied a coat of Amazemint Wetslicks lip-gloss onto my naturally plump and pink lips.
“Thank you, Laurel.” I squeaked and then tried to make a half smile.
“No problem. I’m really sorry about what just happened.” She said sympathetically.
“It’s okay. You’re not the one who caused it.” I then started fiddling with the hem of my dress. By now Ashley was done brushing my hair, which was now wavy, and she had started stroking it.
“Is there anything we can do for you to make you feel better?” asked Katie.
“No. I just really want to go back to my bedroom.”
“Okay.” Grace said. Joe then took his hand off my knee, got up, and held it out to me. I lifted my hand and placed it in his. He gently hoisted me up and put his hand around my waist. I rested my head on his shoulder and put my arm on the other. The house we lived in was three stories tall and the room I lived in was on the second story. Well, it wasn’t exactly my room. I shared the room with Ashley.
When we finally reached the second floor, I took my arm off his shoulder and kept my head on the other. He suddenly pulled me into a big bear hug. Another tear escaped from my eye. I quickly wiped it off before he could see it. We finally got to my room and he took one arm off of me to open the door.
Suddenly, my legs started to feel a little bit numb. I couldn't understand why, though.
“Are you alright?” he asked sympathetically.
“I can’t move my legs. I don’t know why.” Suddenly, Joe picked me up and carried me to my bed, which was sloppily covered by a blue, green, and white striped comforter. He laid me down and covered me up. He then sat down on the edge of the bed. He stared at the hardwood floor and remained silent.
I stared at the walls, mainly at my posters and artwork. My sight was still blurry from the crying and took a few seconds for it to come back into focus. I hadn’t realized it, but Joe had moved from his spot at the end of the bed to right next to my now sore hand, which was fiddling with a now shredded tissue.
Not even grimacing, Joe grabbed the shredded tissue and tossed it into the white trash bin next to the desk Ashley and I usually shared. Ashley and I were really good friends and had a fun time talking to each other when we were really bored and had nothing else to do. The desk was mainly used for when we had big cram sessions for tests and helping each other with tough homework assignments for our grad school classes. He then gripped my hand in his. My hand didn’t feel as clammy and I felt my body somewhat relax. I then gazed into his eyes, which usually had no effect me. But now, I felt like I was to melt. His hazel brown eyes were warm and inviting, while Frank’s electric blue ones made me feel like I was being shocked into excitement every time I looked into them.
Joe looked at my eyes with such intensity that I felt like he might lean in for a kiss. My hair encircled me like a lightweight blanket and wrapped me in a warm halo. It brought me a little bit more comfort that I hadn’t already been given by my friends.
“What happened earlier...I really feel sorry for you.” He finally said.
“It’s not your fault.” I responded, trying to forget the horrid event already. Joe gripped my hand tighter, but relaxed it so he wouldn’t hurt me physically.
“You’re a great friend, you know that? I don’t understand why he would break up with someone as great as you.”
“I can probably think of a hundred reasons why.” I said flatly. Suddenly, we heard classical French music fill the speakers from my iPod dock I had left on a table in the backyard.
“C’mon.” Joe the pulled me up and dragged me out of my room and down the flight of stairs. We stopped in the dining room and looked out the glass paned French doors. Everybody else was dancing along to the music. Joe then pulled through the kitchen and into the backyard. He then pulled me close to him and we started dancing along as well.
I gazed into his eyes and realized something right then and there. All this time, I didn’t even realize it, but I had really liked Joe, not Frank. Joe made me laugh, feel comfortable with myself, was a really good listener when I needed someone to talk to, and so much else. Frank only did that stuff about half the time.
Joe never failed to make feel special and happy. I understood him and he understood me better than any other guy ever did. I knew he was the guy for me. The sun was setting and the paper lanterns in an assortment of colors had been strung and lit. I then rested my head on his chest and smiled.
“Can I ask you something?” he said.
“Sure.” I said, somewhat dazed.
“Do you wanna go on date with me next Friday?” he said with a slight chuckle.
“That sounds great!” I said with a huge smile. Those were the words that I wanted to hear.
