The Unrealities of Greendale (1/3) *Being Edited*

Chapter 8

A/N:

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Looking back on it as I plopped down on my bed, I had endured an incredible night. I was pleased that I had barely even thought of Evan on the date. Plus, I also hadn't seen him for quite some time either. But my love for Evan was withering away, and I was overjoyed that I was finally getting over him. He was nothing but a rock in my path, something I had to find my way around on my journey to better things. I was happy with myself for being strong enough to forget about Evan.

Maybe I never really loved Evan... I thought. Maybe I just wanted someone to love me. I mean, if my love for Evan was so real, why was I able to forget about him so fast? No, now I was just thinking like a mad man. No matter how unfortunate it was to have to admit it, at some point in my life, there's no denying that I was immutably addicted to Evan Greendale. But, although I thought that addiction was irreversible, it turns out that it was. And the sooner I could bring myself to believe that Evan was a thing of the past, the easier it would be for me to let new people into my life, like Logan.

Speaking of Logan, that charming son of a gun, he had me practically floating around when I was within a 100 meter vicinity of him! It was something I had once thought I'd felt about Evan. Now, I know who I am without him... and I really like who I am without him. Plus, I like who I am with Logan. I feel so... put together when I'm around him. I may not love him yet, but one thing can be classified as definite at this point;

I like him.

I really, really like him.

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I woke up the next morning feeling like a breath of fresh air. I walked to my bathroom, brushing my teeth and unbraiding my shoulder length hair, showcasing my natural beach waves. I walked downstairs, meeting gazes with my mother who was watching the news on the couch at a low volume. She's weird about loud TVs.

"Hey sweetheart, good morning," she greeted, happiness embedded in her words. I took note of the coffee mug that her fingers were tightly clasped around. No wonder she's so energized. That coffee must've given her a wake up call, I thought. I returned with a smile just as gleeful.

"Morning, ma," I replied, walking into the kitchen to prepare a bowl of cereal and some orange juice. She radiantly smiled at me before her eyebrows furrowed slightly in a puzzled expression.

"Well, you seem happy today. Glad to know my money that's going towards those therapy sessions isn't being wasted." She sipped her coffee as I poured a standard amount of juice in my cup before glancing at her. She was staring directly at me, amusement in her face as if she knew Dr. Pestode wasn't the only thing that perked me up. "Who is he?" she asked in an excited whisper. I held up my hands.

"No one! Can't a girl just be happy for a day? I think I deserve it," I began, dunking my spoon into  my bowl before replacing the milk in the fridge, closing the door with my foot. "God knows what I've been through these past couple months," I mumbled, sitting in front of my bowl on the stool in front of the kitchen island.

"Whatever you say, hon," she chuckled. I rolled my eyes. Silence surrounded us before I pierced it with my sudden confession.

"Fine, his name's Logan," I said. She grinned anxiously.

"Really? Is he cute?" she asked girlishly. Why does everyone ask that? I thought, reminiscing on Tiera's exact question when I first conjured up the topic of Evan.