I've always known myself as someone who has a uniquely strong grip on men. So tell me why James isn't chasing or even angered by the slightest? Not that I'm someone who desires chaos and conflict, it's just that this is a first and I don't know how to interpret it.
When you're taught comfort, that's what you always look for. That's how it is for me with men, when I'm taught to seek their attention and yearn for validation, as well as their affection, it's all I will always do. That doesn't stop there, my worth itself circles around all the men who are head over heels for me.
And James is threatening that, scoring me and my well-tended ego.
It doesn't help that Blair is like a simmer pot, ready to explode with all of its scalding hot content. She's had enough of the disrespect she's receiving, such as the two rejections in a month and the principal visit. It's not something she's ever done, given she's a well-calculated person with the greatest grades I had ever laid my eyes on and an endless supply of money to flaunt whenever she can.
People might say money can't heal your sorrows, maybe that's what's wrong with her. Money can't seem to stop her fast-rolling snowball effect that's going to cause her downfall. Rest assured though, money can heal my sorrows.
I can prove that to you in just a snap.
"Michael? Have you seen Priscilla?" I approach my most recent ex-boyfriend, purposely putting up a heartbroken demeanor. "I keep calling her because I need to go and she won't answer me and my mom's sick again. I'm so-"
He gets up instantly, a worried look on his face. "Pause and breathe. We'll find Priscilla." He starts. "You don't look okay though, ba–Carrie."
"I'm fine." I choke out, forcing a few tears to slip. His face is swarmed with pity as he pulls me in for a hug as if we're still dating. I've always liked how he acted on his feet, doing what was needed as fast as possible.
His fingers run through my hair, which makes me shudder because now my hair is going to look messy and out of place. For a second, I contemplate pushing him away and smoothing my hair for practical purposes, but I let matters unfold.
"Shh, I promise you it's going to be okay." He whispers, even slipping me a kiss on the forehead.
Exes don't do that, that's how I know I've got Michael Benjamin Miler back.
I suddenly push him away, wiping my tears to give the impression of me trying to gather myself. "Carrie, it's okay to lean on me sometimes. I know we didn't end well but—you know, I care."
Usually, I would've laughed at such a statement because men rarely ever mean such things. By caring, they mean pestering or watching from afar. Usually, it's the latter, they would do anything to keep themselves from appearing as needy.
Michael thought he could care less. Of all the guys I've dealt with, he's been the sanest. He might have some issues with flaunting his money but it doesn't root in arrogance, it's more of an insensitive habit.
"Michael, I don't want to burden you with my problems," I tell him, turning my back and slowly beginning to walk away. I make sure to walk very slowly just so that he holds me back, saying anything to keep me with him.
As expected, that's exactly what he does. He holds onto my arm, stretching it out with a melancholic look on his face. His eyebrows are meeting each other, and his eyes are fixated on mine. I wonder sometimes how anybody could have the heart to hurt such a pretty boy.
Me, I've got needs. The rest, I really don't understand.
I let myself walk back to him, standing so close that it's getting trippy to even look him in the eye. He doesn't look away like the rest, he searches for the truth instead, eyes intently glued onto mine. I let him search for as long as he wants, anything to make him believe that it could work between us at least for a little while.
"It's taking every inch of me, Charmaine." He says. "It's taking every single inch of me not to break at the sight of you like this."
Run, Mikey, run, please.
I place a gentle hand on his cheek, resting my forehead on his. He's mere inches taller, at the most two inches when I'm in such shoes. "And it's taking every inch of me not to fall back into you," I tell him.
He sighs such a deep, low sigh, that it eats away at me how wounded he is by this.
"Then fall back into me." He whispers. "You can fall back into me a thousand times and I would catch you every time."
Gosh, this boy.
I pretend to be unphased by his words when in reality, I'm feeling the ground shake underneath me. I might be loved greatly by everyone, but if I ever counted the times I've dealt with genuine boys like this, it wouldn't even exceed three. That's how depressingly low the number is.
"Enough of this nonsense, of fighting your feelings, of walking away when you want me to hold you back." He says, making me face him. Both his hands are on my face now, not budging at all. "And if you're gonna walk away, so be it.
I almost shed a tear, I almost let him hold me there for as long as he wants. It never happens though, because I take my composure and put it back together. My heart is not allowed to feel, not when it's going to ruin my chances of getting to my ultimate goals. Nothing gets in my way of making mama proud, and nothing will ever get in my way of reaching success, even if it means I die while trying to get there.
I will die while standing alive if that's what it takes.
"Mikey, my Mikey, I would never walk away. Not intentionally"
"So stay. Please."
I manage to lock eyes with him, this time putting my emotions aside unless it's for my benefit. "I will."
Nobody but myself and I know that everything I've uttered was a lie, even if my heart weeps for him.
No amount of weeping can heal me.
•
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Miscellaneous
Teen Fiction"If money can't buy happiness, tell me why you're happier around me?" In Charmaine's heart, there's only one thing that she's reserved a place for and that's money. With that being her motto and purpose, she thrives on dating countless people of al...
