8. Fictional Boyfriends Are So Much Better than Real Ones

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XOXO,

LOSALINI

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Growing up, I always wondered whether Mrs Blackstone had a superpower or if she just had a way of making everyone feel like they had no other choice but to do what she wanted them to do.

Sometimes I believed more in the former; I was just a kid after all, and liked to believe that people like Supergirl existed. This of course led to me eating whatever she gave me, especially those broccoli that tasted like garbage in a vegetable. All because I thought that since she ate it, it must've been the source of her powers, so I ate it too, wanting to be just like her.

When people idolized celebrities like Vanessa Hudgens or Ashley Tisdale, I idolized Mrs Blackstone, the woman that to me was better than any superhero the writers of DC Comics or Marvel could ever come up with.

With that belief, that I always had no choice in the matter when it came to Mrs Blackstone, I always went along with whatever she wanted, no questions asked, even when she suggested I go as the Wicked Witch of the East to the Halloween party in middle school because it was something no one else would think to wear. Where tens of my schoolmates dressed up as princesses or fairies, she said that I would be the unique one.

She was right about that though. I was unique. And ridiculed for the next few years that I went to the hell that was middle school. I'd been dubbed the Wicked Witch ever since that fateful night, at least until sophomore year, when people liked me for the simple fact that I was one of the three sophomores that had made it into the junior varsity team.

Despite that mishap, I still, despite my better judgement and Taylor's behest, continued to listen to everything Mrs Blackstone asked of me.

But sometime since they left I didn't want to anymore.

Actually, correction, ever since she made that ludicrous offer yesterday, I didn't want to listen to whatever she wanted me to do.

I had better things to do than spend time at a barbie at the Blackstones' new house.

My new paperback of the second installment in the Red Queen, Glass Sword by Victoria Aveyard and a whole season of Happyland was ideally what I considered to be a better way of spending my Saturday rather than spending it locked in a house with someone that now considered me as worse than an enemy.

In fact, I believed that Taylor and I were now in this stage of our relationship where if I was locked up in a room with him and Kim Jong Un, the leader of North Korea, and he had a gun with only two bullets, he'd shoot me, if he had no choice, twice.

Okay, fine. Taylor wasn't that vindictive. But, still, he wouldn't necessarily be offering a hand to me if I tripped and fell flat on my face.

All in all, I had no desire of spending my Saturday at the Blackstones' home. I had as much of a desire for it as I did at the prospect of finishing up an entire jar of vegemite.

That is, none at all.

"Don't tell me you're thinking about tomorrow?" Alyson asked as soon as we sat down in Biology class for sixth period.

"Tomorrow?" I asked her, confused as to what she meant. As far as I remembered, I hadn't told her about the hijacking of my Saturday date with the characters in the book.

She nodded. "Yeah, or did you forget about your six month anniversary with Nate?" Then her face soured. "Or what would have been if he'd only get it in his pants."

My heart stilled for a moment as if it was on its last tithers of beating at her words.

Tomorrow would have been Nate and I's six month anniversary. Tomorrow was the day that I'd been looking forward to since three weeks ago, planning what I should get him.

I'd dug through dad's old things in the storage room for the football dad had gotten Tom Brady to sign at last year's Super Bowl, to give to him as a gift. Yeah, it wasn't mine to give, but all of the items in there were soon either going to be given to the Salvation Army recycling bin next to Max's Diner or left on the street as refuse. Might as well put it to better use than leaving it to dust mites and critters, or at least that's what I'd thought before the breakup.

"Why would I be thinking about tomorrow?" I asked despite my thoughts now being enveloped in it, hoping my voice didn't come off as shaky as I thought it would. "As far as I'm concerned, our relationship was only five months old."

"Great then. How about you come over and we spend the whole day drooling over hot boys we have no chance with via Netflix?" Alyson offered.

I smiled, knowing what she was doing. She didn't want me all alone on the day that I'd been looking forward to for the past three weeks.

"It's fine, Als." I place my hand on hers and squeezed it reassuringly. "If my plan goes well, I'll be on a date with Cal of Norta." (Red Queen reference)

"Who's Cal of Norta?" she asked, clearly confused. 

"My soon to be fictional boyfriend." I smirked evilly.

"What? What book is this?" she asked, clearly very interested now, forgetting my issue with Nate, for now.

For the remainder of the time it took for Mr Lockington to get to class, Alyson and I went through the list of fictional boyfriends we had now.

"You sure you don't want to come over tomorrow?" Alyson asked as we walked towards our cars, parked side to side after practice. "I've got the latest episodes of Teen Wolf On Demand."

I was torn and still indecisive, given the fact that I was still not sure of what tomorrow held. "I'd love too, but Stilinski's gotta wait. I still have to deal with real life for now."

"Fine. You win." She pouted before pulling me into a tight hug. "See you after you've dealt with real life?"

I nodded. "Now shoo!" I pushed her towards her car.

As soon as she was gone, I turned to my old Cadillac, with the somewhat paling paint-job.

A note was on the windscreen of my beloved car, stuck under one of the wipers.

Before I pulled it out to read it, I looked around, trying to look for the person who had put it there in the first place.

But seeing as it was already an hour after school finished, the only cars left belonged to both students from the squad, the football team or the soccer team, who'd both as far as I'd seen, had all been practicing on the field with me.

I pulled out the note hesitantly, curious as to what it said. Obviously it wasn't a fine, given that this was a student parking lot, but it did leave a lot of possibilities as to what it contained.

As soon as I unfolded it, I knew who it was. Mostly because I recognized the handwriting.

Liz,

I could begin this letter with a simple 'How have you been?' but then again, I know how you've been. 

I see the smile you bare to the world, holding back the Liz that's hurting. I see the way you hold yourself proudly as if nothing's wrong when all you want to do is curl up in a corner and age away. And I see smiles you crack at Alyson's jokes when all you want to do is cry. 

But most of all, I know that this is all because of me.

If, and only if, I could take it backNot the way you found out about it, but everything altogether. Maybe, just maybe then you would still be able to look me in the eye and know how much you mean to me.

I'm sorry. A million times. A lifetime of sorry's wouldn't make up for it. I know.

But nevertheless, I am.

If you could ever forgive me, I hope you will come for the present I have for you for the six months of putting up with a sorrowful and undeserving idiot like me tomorrow.

Forever and hopefully always yours,

Nate.

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