Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Summer

" Y ou okay?" A voice sounded next to me as I sat on the bottom step with my head in my hands.

How could I respond to that? I was far from okay, but as a hand reached out and sat on my shoulder, I instinctively responded with an audible sound.

"Yeah, silly question, I suppose. Did he hurt you?"

I looked up to see Lola, Evie's friend.

"No." I stiffened at the thought. Alfie was a pig, but I didn't believe he would hurt a woman physically. He'd just taunt and hurt them emotionally. "Nothing like that. I just thought… Oh, never mind. I don't even know what I thought."

"You thought he'd change the habit of a lifetime and decide to commit?" Lola asked softly.

"Yes? No? I don't know." I really didn't. All I knew is that I wanted Alfie with all my being. I wanted all of him, not just the part of him he was willing to give away more often than I had to make my own meals. "It's not like you can control who you fall for, is it?"

Lola didn't respond for a few seconds. Instead, we sat in silence until she whispered in agreement.

"Look, I'm going to go, but thank you for checking on me. I really appreciate it. I'll see you in class," I said before making haste and heading to the front door.

It wasn't until I was outside in the cold fresh air that the humiliation and rejection hit me.

I was crying.

And no matter how much I tried to stop, there was nothing in the world that could hold back my tears as I tried to make my way home through blurred and stinging eyes.

I felt used.

How could I have mistaken the attention Alfie had given me as anything other than primal behaviour? He was a caveman––his only cares being where his next meal and mating buddy would come from.

I was disgusted in myself that I'd nearly given myself up too easily for another guy even though I'd sworn to myself that sixth form would be different.

I wanted love. I wanted that warm fuzzy feeling you got when you wrapped yourself up in a muscled embrace—the safety and affection that Alfie clearly was never going to give me. Was that too much to ask for?

Did I not deserve love?

I tormented myself, wiping my eyes with my tear stained hand.

I was sick of accepting anything less than I deserved, something I'd done for far too long.

Those short few minutes of being held—the few seconds I felt like I could be loved before they got out of bed to pull their jeans back on. It was no longer something I'd put up with.

Ice cream.

I hated ice cream as much as Alfie. I'd devoured two whole tubs in one day, not moving a muscle as I slouched on my bed watching romance movies. Unsurprisingly, not one of the romantic heroes ran away from the heroine because she tried to kiss him. Of course, in the movies there were many other ways the relationships fell to pieces, but Alfie hadn't even allowed me the privilege of calling whatever we had a relationship. He really just did not care.

I hated myself even more for spending a whole day feeling sorry for myself and consuming my entire body weight in ice cream. I even had to silence the group chat because I was sick of my so-called friends talking about me like I wasn't there.

So, that Sunday morning, I went to the gym to work off the junk food, anger and whatever feelings I still had for Alfie.

I knew that whenever he wasn't running or stomping on the hearts of his victims, he was in the gym, so I booked onto two classes, avoiding seeing him at all costs.

Once I'd endured a forty-five minute spin class, I made my way to zumba, my legs barely carrying me there. I had no idea how I'd manage a full class. I picked a spot at the back of the room instead of my usual space at the front, and danced along to the Latin music.

"Are you okay? You don't seem your usual upbeat self," the instructor asked as she walked past me in between songs.

"I'm fine. Too much junk food," I said, trying my best to give a smile big enough that she'd see under the dim sports hall lighting.

But I wasn't fine. I was far from being fine with what Alfie Wilson had done to me.

The bitter taste of rejection was all too familiar. I didn't belong with anyone. I didn't deserve love. I knew it. Alfie knew it. Even my own Dad wanted nothing to do with me.

I could feel myself getting worked up. Not even the upbeat rhythm of the music or my attempts to focus on the moves could prevent what was about to happen.

I dived towards the exit before the class could finish, before anyone else could ask me if I was okay, because it was written all over my face. I couldn't lie. I was broken––in pieces and no amount of sympathy was going to fix that.

I fought with the padlock on my locker as if it was the source of all my anger and all my problems, before taking out the clothes I'd not bothered to fold. Before I had a chance to take out my shoes, my phone vibrated and lit up the locker.

Evie: Girrrrrl! What is going ON? How drunk was I on Friday night?? And why is the group chat going OFF about you and Alfie? What did I miss? x

Me: Don't ask. It really is not worth it. He's not worth it x

Evie: Well if that text doesn't tell a story, I don't know what does! What did the scumbag do? x

Me: Flirting. Hope. Excitement. Then a whole lot of rejection and humiliation. To be fair, the only things that evening was missing were fire and death x

Evie: You'd think it had had both considering the drama in the Sandy Crew group chat. Are you okay? x

Me: I'm staying well away from that group. I'm having a hard enough time trying to forget about the whole night without everyone talking about me right in front of my nose. Why do I always fall for the wrong guys? He wouldn't even kiss me! X

Evie: He never kisses anybody. He's a waste of oxygen. One day you'll fall for the right one who will see what he has when he has you. I promise! X

Me: You're too kind, but right at this moment, I couldn't imagine getting with another guy. Especially if he's anything like Alfie Wilson x