My Cliche Love Story | ✓

Chapter 13

The basement in my house is silent. Nothing, no one, moves, and neither do I. Upset that he got the last word, I shake my head, trying to ignore the frustrating feeling that has warped its way into my stomach. That wasn't exactly how I wanted, or expected, my birthday to go. 

As much as I'm grateful for him catching me, so I wouldn't fall and break my neck, I'm still angry that it seems like I can never get the upper hand with this guy. It's infuriating. He's always one step ahead of me, always knowing my next move. How does he do it? Maybe I'm too obvious. Or he's just super observant. Yeah, that makes sense. Aren't people like him supposed to be freakily aware of their surroundings? In the books, well, in the cliche ones, the bad boys have all gone through some tragedy, like their mom died, or they have a sister with cancer. 

I guess that expectation runs for the girls, too. They've either been suicidal, lost a parent, or been hunted down. I guess, in the grand scheme of things, this is just like one of those books. And let me tell you, I'm not happy about it.

Molly steps in front of me. "Alex, what's up?"

I blink. "What?"

"You zoned out for a minute. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I mumble, and stomp my way up the stairs.

Downstairs, someone mutters to their friends, "I told you we shouldn't have come. I knew it was going to be a drama fest."

As much as that makes me mad, I can't help but nod grimly to myself. They're--whoever that is--totally right. I didn't think it was a good idea to have a birthday party, anyway, but of course, they had to set one up. And it had to be a surprise. 

Everyone's led out by Molly, and when she tries to stay for longer, I just wave her away, flashing her a tired smile. "It's okay," I reassure her, "I'm good. Some tea and sleep sounds good right now."

She nods, not looking completely satisfied with that answer, but respects my answer, and steps out of the house, leaving me alone. Jake's still here, but he knows not to bother me when I get in these moods. Good thing, too. I guess he learned his lesson.

I make some tea, and, slurping it down, curse when I realize that I was supposed to finish that English presentation. I knew I had to do it, I just...forgot? Does that excuse still convince people? I completely forgot about it, and that's the truth. It's a good thing we didn't present today, otherwise that would have been a disaster. 

In my room, my desk is cluttered with several other papers, all of which I have no recollection of writing on. So, with a few quick glances at them, I just toss them into the garbage can, and pull out my laptop to get to work on my presentation about poetry.

Poetry's stupid, why'd I choose that? 

Because it seemed easy, duh.

Well, now that I'm going to end up being the only one working on this blasted project, it's going to prove to be the hardest topic, and I'm going to fail this. There goes my dream of passing senior year with flying colors.

I'm not even sure what I write on the page, and I don't think it makes sense, but I finish it anyway, hoping for the best. It's, like, almost midnight. On my birthday. What a waste. Can I have a redo? Is that a thing? Can people redo their birthday?

Ugh. I'm not thinking straight. The sky is dark, and even Dylan's lights in his bedroom are out. It seems like I'm the only one here, the only one awake. And maybe I am, maybe, in this whole world, I'm the only one sitting up, thoughts blurring together to make a jumbled mess. 

Done with the serious talk(it stresses me out, okay?), I climb into bed, not even changing out of my clothes. It's not worth it. Maybe I'll just go to school with these clothes on, wear them two days in a row. I wonder if anyone would notice.