Of Arseholes and Bitches

06 | Of Memories and Heartbreak

I REMEMBER THAT day.

This all happened round about a year ago.

It was a Tuesday. 

I hate Tuesdays.

Rain pelted against the misty window that very afternoon, the constant beat of raindrops like harsh bullets striking the building. As moisture flowed freely down the clear glass, like the tears of weeping angels from the skies above, continuous thudding resonated off the walls. This only added to the gloom that was school in itself. I sighed. 

Now, I wasn't one to take such notice of the weather. In fact, I really didn't give a damn as long as my hair didn't get drenched or my skin sunburnt (not that you'd get sunburn in London. The weather is shitty, I know). To be completely honest, I only gazed outside the window because that's the only thing I could have done to block out a certain someone's persistent voice. Who you may ask?

Nathan; my boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend to be precise.

I can't remember his exact word. All that comes to mind was a blur of curses and insults, foul words spilling from his lips like drool, laughter rumbling from his chest. The rest of the form room followed suit, as if they were in a choir and they had just reached the climax, powerful voices combining to reach an orgasmic harmony. If only. Their voices were more vile than melodious, and the sound wasn't pleasant, nowhere near a harmony. A combination of sneers and jeers left the mouths of the onlookers, their lips twisted into sadistic smiles. I hated it. 

That wasn't even what hurt the most. Nathan was going on about me being a bitch, or something like that (not that I cared. I know I can be a bitch at times). But then his arm curled around Ophelia's waist. She spun in his arms so they were chest to chest, and she kissed his neck softly, leaving a scarlet lipstick stain behind. And then he said, his tone genuine, dripping with sincerity and absolute fucking adoration:

"I'm so glad I met her."

I snorted in an unladylike manner, rolling my eyes at them. Stuffing my hands in my blazer pockets, I looked for a distraction, anything. Glancing outside at the cherry blossom tree by the field, I observed that it's usually vibrant petals looked dim, like a washy mixture of grey and pink that would be left discarded and dry on a painter's palette. Fragments of rosy flower petals swam at the bottom of muddy puddles, their beauty dismissed as they were submerged in the darkness.

I tried to look passive, unaffected, bored. To be frank, I know I didn't love Nathan; never did. He was the typical prick who all the boys wanted to be, and all the girls wanted to be with. I was one of those girls - something I'm deeply ashamed of. But I can't help but remember our time together: the walks in the park at dusk, the sweaty parties, the drinks at the coffee shop, the secret kisses on ferris wheel rides, the cute "good morning", "goodnight", "i miss you" and "i love you" text messages every single fucking day and night. All gone down the drain. Simply because, 'I said no to sex'. I'm 16 for fuck's sake. Even worse, I was 15 at the time when he asked me to shag him.

I was fed up.

Without taking notice of Nathan, Ophelia or anyone else in the room, I stood up, heading towards the door. It was times like these when I wondered what the point of it all was. Back then I had no one; no Zara to brighten my day with one of her gentle giggles, no Joseph to scold repeatedly for his perverted ways, no Kayla to welcome me with one of her rude and bitchy remarks. And, sometimes, perhaps, maybe: I had no Levi. To make a long story short, our status of childhood best friends faded slowly as the years of secondary school, relationships, popularity and social media edged nearer to us. It was complicated. All I really had was Nathan. Not anymore, I guess.

I wasn't even out of the door before I was constricted by a grasp on my arm. This hand wasn't Nathan's to my surprise. The fingers were long, slender and icy, manicured nails digging into the skin of my wrist. And when I looked up, I was met with a frosty smile, venom seeping from the pupils of her forest green eyes. Ophelia.

"What?" I hissed, retracting my arm from the grip with a flick of the wrist. I didn't miss the sting that erupted on the surface of my pale flesh, pricks of bright red blood forming from the sharp movement.

She laughed, what to others would be considered as a fairy's airy giggle, light and feathery. In my ears, all I could hear was a witch's wretched cackle.

"Pathetic." She spat out, and that was all there was to it. Ophelia wasn't one of many words. The only thing anyone has ever heard her utter to another student in this school were words of spite. This, however, was easily overlooked due to her - admittedly - ravishing looks. Too bad she spoilt this with her slutty behaviour. She was like a grasshopper, hopping from dick to dick. I'm not even surprised Nathan had suddenly considered her as 'the one'. The dickhead and the whore; a match made in heaven.

I rolled my eyes at her, finding her antics hardly amusing. I flashed a middle finger in her direction, and just as she was about to claw her nails into my neck (or so I guessed), Nathan stopped her by simply placing his hand on her shoulder. With a smirk he proclaimed these words with much conviction: 

"You'll never find someone like me."

"That's the point." I bit back instantly.

I spun around, and bit my lower lip to hide my smile, the hooting from the class following me out of the room. A sense of victory filled me. These moments were short-lived, however, as I turned around the corner of the corridor, and I stopped walking all together. In my path stood Levi, and for some reason I couldn't even comprehend, he looked livid. Absolutely raging.

"Ash," he whispered in a low tone, breathing deeply to calm his harsh tempered pants.

"Ash?" I frowned slightly at the name. The last time he had called me that was nearly four years ago, back when we came over to each other's houses and hung out in each other's backyards, melted ice cream dripping down the side of our cheeks.

"Yes; Ash. Come with me."

I simply furrowed my eyebrows.

"Please."

And this is where it starts.