Chapter 33
*Mikayla*
I’m sitting on a log in the woods sobbing like a 12 year old girl because my stupid crush likes the hot chick.
What did I expect?
Jake Andrews is a whole other level, he gets supermodels.
“Hey,” a timid voice greets.
Heidi and Lucy walk towards me.
“So that’s Jake's girlfriend, huh? Ex? Or whatever?”
Heidi nods.
“Jesus, she’s not attractive at all. He could do so much better.” I scoff out, my voice laced with sarcasm.
They giggle a little.
“At least tell me she’s stupid, or a horribly mean person, or she used to be fat or something, anything,” I beg.
Lucy spits out, “I wish I could, Micky, but that fucking bitch has it all, ten out of ten every fucking thing. She’s super smart. Like, fucking Harvard smart. She’s nice to fucking everybody. She’s always looked like the cover of a fucking magazine and I hate it so much and if I could get away with it I’d fucking cut a bitch for you.”
My eyes widen and a small laugh escapes.
Heidi shakes her head. “She’s a mean drunk.”
“And a profane one, too,” I add.
Quiet fills the air for a few minutes.
“Look,” Heidi says. “Lucy is right, she’s actually a really nice girl. But he doesn’t like her, not in that way, not the way he likes you.”
I think for a minute.
He has never mentioned her. Not even once.
But if she wasn’t out of town that night, and she was his date to prom, then where the fuck would that leave me?
“I’m fine, guys. You should get back to the party. I just need a few minutes to clear my head.”
“You sure bitch? It’s the last time before we’re all thrown out in the real world. Don’t let fucking stupid shit get you down… fucking…” I love drunk Lucy.
I laugh and nod, and they leave.
***
Five minutes later I walk back to the clearing towards our bonfire. Jake is back in his seat and Marisa is there with him. Not with him, but she’s sitting in the circle, while Derek drools over her.
Great.
I get back to the bonfire and sit in the bed of the truck. I don’t take my spot next to Jake, or his lap, it just doesn’t feel right.
Logan hands me a beer and I take it.
I see jake eyeing me, but I don’t care.
He never mentioned her, not once in the last 3 months.
All I am to him is some stupid girl he took pity on and now can’t get rid off.
And he has supermodel ex girlfriends.
And I need more beer.
Logan cuts me off after my third beer in ten minutes.
Valid.
***
I’ve been sitting here for I don’t know how long and I can see James watching me. His friends, which were also my friends, are about 20 yards from us. He can see me, I can see him. But he watches me, and I’ve seen him get up and grab no less the 15 beers in the last hour. He must be wasted. And he never gets wasted. Ever. His head has dropped forward between his shoulders and he can barely sit up straight. This is not like him at all. He’s going to pass out and none of his dickface friends are going to take care of him when he does.
I jump down from the truck and head towards him. Even an asshole like him deserves to get home safe.
As I walk past Jake, he grabs onto my hand, I turn and see his confused face, but I shrug his hand off and march forward. I don’t really know why I’m pissed at him, all I know is that if she was his date that night, there is no way I would even know who Jake Andrews is.
I stand in front of James and kick his shin gently.
He looks up at me, eyes almost fully hooded, bloodshot.
When he sees me, he straightens up a bit and tries to act not so drunk.
“Mikayla,” he slurs, and get’s up form the chair. Surprisingly, he doesn’t act as drunk as he looks.
“Have you come back for me, baby? Have you forgiven me? Please say yes.”
“No James, I just-"
“I’m so glad, baby, so fucking glad,” he interrupts while throwing his arms around me, lifting me, spinning me around.
“James, put me down, shit!”
He does, and I start walking away, back to my own group.
He follows.
“Shit, Mick, I’m sorry. I don’t know what the fuck-, just wait, please.”
I make it half way before he catches up to me and grabs my arm, forcing me to turn around.
“I’m sorry, Mikayla. I’m so fucking sorry.” Tears are running down his face faster then he can wipe them away.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful, I just love you so much.” His voice is strained.
And then…
He reaches into his pocket…
Pulls out a little black velvet box…
And starts to get down on one knee.
The second I see the box my eyes snap shut, I can’t watch this happen.
I don’t open my eyes.
Not when I feel him get down on the ground.
Not when I feel his hand take mine.
And not when I hear him say, “I asked your dad and everything, I got this for you the day before prom…”