PAINTED LOVE

ELEVEN

loïse madden

. . . . . .

I wake up that morning with the biggest head ache ever. Probably from all the crying I did yesterday. I felt betrayed, hopeless and just sad that I've lost Sebastian, whom I had started to see as one of my best friends.

He was there for me, to help me with physics. I was there for him to help him by pretending to be his girlfriend. We spent a lot of time talking together, being in each other's presence. He knows a lot about me, and I know a decent amount about him. He never liked talking about himself and his family. All I know is that he has a little sister called Ava and that his mom passed away from cancer a few years ago.

I always shared a lot of information. What I like about my friends, what my childhood was like etc. He's a great listener, and I'm a big talker around people I trust. I trusted him.

I drag myself out of bed, forcing myself to go to classes today. When I get in the main room of our dorm, I notice that Luna and Crystal have already made me a breakfast. They made eggs, toast and coffee. I thank them before taking a seat at the table and eat my breakfast in silence. I don't want to talk to anyone right now and I know they understand. Crystal has gone through this with her boyfriend, Lewis, like 5 times already.

When I'm done eating, I take some Ibuprofen for the head ache, step in the shower and get dressed. It's sunny today, so I decide to wear a beige sundress that comes up to my knees. It has pretty thin straps so I wear a knitted sweater over it, just to stay decent for classes.

I suddenly hear my phone ringing while I'm applying some mascara.

It's Sebastian.

I decide to let the phone ring until he stops calling, but unfortunately, he's really patient and the phone rings 10 more times before he stops trying. I, then, hear a soft pling and realise he's probably sent me a message.

I half-swipe it and read:

Can we talk?? I need to tell you smth

Then, a few minutes later:

Loïse, I know you're reading this. Please pick up your goddamn phone and answer me

The urge to type something back wins from me now, so I answer:

No

Loïse, please just give a chance to explain.

You've already explained it to me a week ago when you were with Janette again

That was different

How is it different?

Please, just give me a second chance

You mean a third one?

No, a second one.

Why would I do that?

I'll pick you up at 7 tonight at your dorm.

Seems like I don't really get a say in this. A part of me really wants to tell him he needs to leave me alone. He already screwed Janette twice (or once, I don't know why he calls it a second chance?) and I hate that he did that to me.

But another part of me really just wants to get this over with, pretend like none of it happened and start over again. That part wants to know why he did what he did and just wants to be with him again, actually.