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I BARELY SLEPT LAST NIGHT. Every time I closed my eyes, What Aaron’s dad said to me replayed in my head like a broken record.
Rich and spoiled.
Lady friend.
Aaron’s lady friends don’t last long.
A distraction.
I was a distraction.
And the worst part? He’s probably right. Aaron was scared when he got hurt. He was vulnerable, unsure. But now? Now he’s not. He’s healing, and he doesn’t need me holding him back anymore.
I haven’t responded to his texts. Leaving him on read feels like the safest option. But it’s not just him. It’s Felix’s words, too.
It’s like you’re not even here anymore.
It echoes in my head, and it hurts more than it should. I can admit to myself that he’s right. I’ve been slipping away. Bit by bit.
Things were tense this morning when we got ready for school. Felix kept glancing at me but I couldn’t bring myself to hold his gaze. All I would see is disappointment. I’ve seen that look too many times.
Mum made it worse. Going on about how I’m not taking my A-Levels seriously, how I need to “focus more on my future.” I told her Felix’s grades aren’t perfect either, but she brushed me off with a, “That’s different because he has football.”
Of course, it is. It always is.
And then she just had to add, “Stop with the talking back, Carmen. Don’t make me regret giving you your phone back.”
I wasn’t even talking back. But sure, let’s just paint me as the problem. Like always. It’s a cycle. A never ending cycle that I so badly want to escape.
I kept my mouth shut for the rest of the ride, staring out the window as my leg bounced up and down, fingers fidgeting restlessly.
And because the universe just has to keep piling shit on top of shit, I completely forgot about my psychology assignment. My teacher yelled at me in front of the whole class. Her voice still rings in my ears.
So, now I’m at my locker, staring down at a clear bag of pills in my hand. My mind is a mess, tangled and knotted. I just need to shut it all off.
“Hey, Blondie.”
The voice startles me so bad I drop the bag.
I kneel down to pick it up, but Aaron’s already crouched beside me, his eyes flicking to the pills before I can snatch them away. I shove the bag into my locker and slam it shut, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
This can’t be happening.
“Carmen…?” he trails off, his eyes narrowing.
“Ibuprofen,” I say quickly. “I have a headache.”
His gaze doesn’t move from me. That look of his, the one that says he sees right through the bullshit, is making me restless.
“So, what’s up?” I ask, trying to sound casual, but my voice wavers.
He hesitates. His mind is clearly still thinking about what he just saw. Ibuprofen, Aaron. Just believe it.
“Have you been ignoring me?”
I’m not surprised. He’s never shy about being blunt as hell. “Nope.” I purse my lips, avoiding his eyes.
“You’re lying to me now?” He tucks a curl behind my ear, and the gentleness in his touch does something to me. Something that makes my chest tighten and my stomach flip.
“I’ve just been busy, Aaron.” I take a step back, needing the distance.
His brows furrow, studying me like he’s trying to solve some impossible puzzle. “Did something happen?”
“Like I said, I’ve been busy.”
“I thought you kept your promises,” he mutters, a hint of hurt in his tone, that for some reason hurts me too.
“I-” The words die in my throat. My mind’s blank. He’s right. I did promise him. “I think maybe we should stop the tutor sessions,” I finally say, my voice smaller than I want it to be.
He tenses every muscle, his jaw, his shoulders, his expression. “Why?”
“Well, you need to recover,” I say, gesturing at his crutches. “And you should focus on that.”
“Is that why you’re ignoring me? Because you think I shouldn’t be distracted?”
“I’m not-“
“Don’t lie to me, Carmen. Please.” His voice drops, but it’s the please that gets me. It sounds like a plea, raw and real.
I stay silent. I can’t think straight. Can’t do anything right.
“I can tell when you’re lying,” he adds, stepping closer. “So be honest with me.”
“Yes, I think you don’t need any distractions and should focus on your recovery. It means a lot to you.”
“So do you.”
My breath catches. His reply is so quick and sure, like it’s something he’s always known. Like it’s the simplest truth in the world.
“I do?” My voice comes out as a whisper.
“Tell me, Carmen. What changed?”
I swallow hard. “Nothing.”
“Like I said, don’t lie to me.”
“I don’t want to, Aaron.” The confession escapes me before I can realise what I’m saying.
“Then tell me the truth.” Letting out a sigh, he lowers his head, his gaze holding mine. “Please.”
There he goes with the ‘please‘ again.
I look away. My hands are trembling, so I shove them into the pockets of my blazer. “You don’t need a girl like me to help you,” I scoff, trying to sound indifferent.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” His voice sharpens, eyes narrowing. “And choose your next words wisely.”
I can’t find any words to say, the only thing I manage to do is shrug my shoulders.
“Did someone say that to you?” He sounds pissed now, his eyes searching mine for any hint of a lie.
“No-“
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
I inhale deeply. Here we go. “Your dad.”
“What?”
“Yeah,” I breathe out.
Aaron shakes his head, taking a step back, shock flickering over his face. I expect his next few words to be calling me a liar but instead what he says shocks me, “He’s going to fucking regret-“
“Don’t,” I cut him off, grabbing his hand before he can storm off. His palm feels warm against my cold ones. “Just… don’t.”
“What exactly did he say to you?”
“Nothing-” I try to lie again but once I see his expression, I stop. “He said a rich, spoiled girl like me shouldn’t distract you. And…” I pause, letting out a sigh. “That I’m basically your girl of the month.”
“What the fuck.” His tone is rough, like the words physically hurt him. Do they? I can only wonder. But for some reason, a part of me hopes they do. Hopes that he cares about me that much.
“It’s okay,” I whisper.
“You’re not a distraction, okay? I want you with me. You’re the only one that can make this fucking recovery bearable.” His hand is on my cheek now, his thumb brushing softly against my skin. Warmth spreads through me, flooding my chest, and I hate how badly I want to melt into him.
“You understand?” he asks.
I nod, but I don’t think I really do.
“And you’re not a girl of the month to me,” he mutters, his gaze burning into mine. “Carmen, you’re so much fucking more.”
The words hit me hard. Like a punch to the chest and a warm embrace all at once. So much more.
I’ve spent so long being ignored, pushed aside, left to feel like I’m nothing. And here he is, telling me I’m something. Something that matters.
Part of me wants to believe him, let his words wrap around me like a blanket and never let go. But the other part? The other part is terrified. Because what if he’s wrong? What if I’m just some temporary distraction?
This isn’t good. This isn’t going to end well, I already know.
I’m a liar. All I do is lie and hide secrets.
I know he won’t like me-won’t want to be my friend-if he ever found out about the drugs I take. It’s messed up. I’m messed up. Aaron won’t need me dragging him down with my problems. He’ll probably become a footballer, living the life he always wanted. And I want that for him too.
The hallway starts filling up with students leaving their classes. I take a step back, putting distance between us.
“I have to go to class,” I mumble, turning away before he can say anything.
I walk fast, slipping into the crowd. But his words are still with me, sticking like glue.
And for once, I don’t know how to feel.
All I know is I can’t get him out of my head.
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