"It's like he's at the top of a cliff, and I'm tied to a rope that he's holding from the top. I'm trying to climb my way to where he is, but he's distracted or irritated or something, and he lowers the rope ever so slightly. He keeps lowering and lo...
It's like I'm Dr. Frankenstein, except my monster looks beautiful on the outside. His skin glows and his hair is wispy and even his movements are smooth as suede. He's absolutely handsome, but that's the dangerous part.
He's the type of monster who will charm you with his good looks then stab you in the back. I'm the only one that sees it though. I was his best friend when nobody dared to go near him, when he didn't look like a model in a perfume ad.
Now every guy wants to be his friend and every girl wants to be his girlfriend (and sometimes vice versa), because he is no longer just Alex, he is Alejandro Flores, hot shot business man, ladies' man and owner of "Let's See"––the most popular website in the North American Continent.
Oh, and he's also rumored to be dating Bella Hadid, but I know for a fact that's definitely not true.
He hasn't officially ditched me yet, but I have a feeling he's slowly letting me go. I feel it deep in my stomach, an empty longing for my best friend, the only real friend I've ever had.
It's like he's at the top of a cliff, and I'm tied to a rope that he's holding from the top. I'm trying to climb my way to where he is, but he's distracted or irritated or something, and he lowers the rope ever so slightly. He keeps lowering and lowering, and then what? Am I going to fall down the cliff to my doom?
I shudder at the thought. It wasn't too long ago when he was at the bottom, and I was helping him climb.
Everyone's glued to his side now that he has money and a bad ass website and he's still in his third year of college. Big whoop, I'm the same age and education level as him and... well, I... ok, so I don't have a couple million dollars––yet––but I have my blog. An awesome blog.
"Let's See" was a good idea, at first, but now I think it's actually pretty rotten. Alex was always coding and admiring math formulas or algorithms whatever. I never understood it, I'm a bookie at heart.
"Let's See" is an algorithm he created which is supposed to "see your future" or something. It's supposed to predict things like when you'll get married or have kids or have a mid life crisis (you'd think that one would be pretty self explanatory). It will then match you to people who got similar results. It's kind of like Facebook and eHarmony and, I don't know, Ancestry.com, all wrapped up into one.
And it works and it's correct. Some girl got on the news last week because the stupid site said she'd meet her true love in Cancun, so she hopped on a plane and went, apparently met said true love, and now they're getting married before the end of the year. I can't even believe people are taking it that seriously.
I haven't used the site, much to his displeasure. Alex is always trying to get me to go on it, but I refuse to believe a hunk of metal knows my life better than I do. I also refuse to accept something that had a big role in turning sweet letter-writing, chai latte loving Alex into Alejandro, the biggest douche in California.
I snap back to the present and start backspacing on the computer, because I realize I have typed "horrible, terrible monster" onto my lab report. Not sure that'd be a good addition to the "procedure" section for a plant soil lab report.
"Whoa, easy there Tappy," Emily, my lab partner, chortles, amused at her latest nick name.
"What?" I look up from the computer. She's resting her head on her fist and staring blankly at me. Typical. I'm always the one to do the work, especially since if I let her work on it, we will always get a low grade, mostly due to her disregard for correct spelling, grammar, and, well, actual science. This class isn't even for my major, but there's no way I'm going to let it lower my GPA.
I'm ok with being in control of the assignments, although lately with everything going on about Alex, I've been more annoyed than usual. It's absolutely frustrating to hear people talk about him like they've been friends for years, like they've never teased him or alienated him.
"Yeah, you're tapping pretty hard on the keyboard," she mumbles and pulls out her phone with her perfectly manicured hands. I turn my attention back to the computer screen.
"So, what are you wearing to Alejandro's party on Saturday?" Mary, the girl who sits across from us, and Emily's groupie, gushes, triggering that one nerve called "Patience for Alejandro." She has the exact same manicure as Emily, of course. Emily, who thinks she's my best friend because we're both "so popular and pretty," was the first person to object to my even talking to Alex. And that's Alex not Alejandro. And let me tell you, she really did not like him then. That was when I was still with Jake
"Turn it in," Emily mumbles to me.
"Oh." I didn't realize I had stopped typing. I scan over the document and hit 'Submit.' I turn to the instructor who seems to be going on about something he finds interesting. I try to pay attention, something about some article she read about a biotech company expanding and providing schools with health care in Africa. Remmer? Remlor, or something?
Alex and I were good friends, great friends, best friends, and now he embodies everything I don't believe in.
Reader, I think for you to really understand how pissed and heartbroken and cheated I feel, you need to know the whole story. Right. From. The. Beginning.
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