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"Yeah, Austin, I get it. I just don't need you riding my ass all the time, okay? Personal space."

Her voice buzzed and echoed through the phone in different octaves, almost to where he couldn't make out a word she said. But he knew the point of it all. He was getting dumped- over a phone call. On prom, yes, prom.

2 hours ago he was sitting on his beaten leather couch with a corsage in his hands. His fingernails picked at the plastic container, his mother accompanying him on the side.

"Is she coming?" She finally broke the awkward silence. He sighed and ran his fingers through his curly hair.

"What do you think." He mumbled, looking into the distance. He had never felt so stupid in his entire life. Prom would've been the most memorable night of his life, at least that's what he thought. I guess you can't make assumptions. I mean not everything's like the movies.

His phone vibrated. He checked it briefly and locked it back. He got up, throwing the expensive corsage like it was a piece of trash. Part of him was relieved though. He didn't have to go through the embarrassment of his mother. It would've been awkward as hell if she had to meet her, because he knew his mom would get overly excited and reveal a little bit too much about him to her.

He wanted to keep a mysterious reputation, but it's hard when you lack posture, balance, and the art of conversation. He lacked the sound of interest to everyone.

The text was from one of his friends, Dean. He had asked where he was. Not like he wanted to tell his friends that he got rejected by this girl. He wasn't close enough to his friends for them to actually know how he feels. He wasn't close to anyone.

He said goodbye to his mother and drove his old rusty Buick to the school parking lot alone, just so he could walk up to the doors alone, and meet up with his friends. It's not that he reeked of desperation, it's that he was just plain out alone. He didn't need a girlfriend, he needed a friend. Someone to pour out his rants and feelings to. He had been spending too much time with himself lately, but he was great at hiding it.

Just as soon as he headed in the doors, his phone began to rang. He made a B-line to the bathroom.

-

"Does this mean you're done with me? Hell, you didn't even get to know me. You could've at least told me you didn't want to go."

She was quiet, and you could hear the bass of pumping music in the background. Almost the same melody as of what was going on on the dance floor...

"Wait, are you here?" He cracked open the bathroom door, and immediately he found the girl from across the gym floor, huddled in a group with their friends. They were all gathered to her ear where the phone was, giggling and laughing as if this was all a joke. A planned one, for sure.

"Yeah... It's not that I didn't want to go- it's just I didn't want to go with you."

He saw her friends snorting at what she said, and he slammed the bathroom door.

"Well I'm here, I'm fine, and I'm getting drunk tonight."

"I'm sure you are Austin." Her laugh was beginning to taunt him. He hung up the phone and took a minute to look at himself in the mirror. He washed his face off with water, letting his eyes close as the cold drops hit his sweaty, warm face.

Sketch (Austin Abrams)Where stories live. Discover now