Girl (completed)

51

   "Blaire, wake up."
   "Blaire, rise and shine," John said, and he threw back the curtains to let the blinding sunlight seep into my room. A pouding coursed through my head, and a wave of nausea washed over me, but quickly passed.
   "What?" I groaned, and John pulled back the covers. I tugged them, but he refused to give them back.
   "We need to talk," he said, and I yawned.
   "We can't do that later?" I whined, feeling quite despondent.
    "No, I have to go to the studio," he said and I finally sat up.
   "What do we need to talk about?" I asked, and he seemed a bit nervous. That slightly troubled me because in all of the years that I'd known him, he had never appeared  nervous.
   "Last night, for starters," he said, and it all came riding back to me. The drinking, the thunder, the fight.
   "I am so sorry. I was drunk, out of my head," I said, and he frowned.
   "Did you mean what you said? Is that how you really feel?" He asked, and I sighed.
   "I don't know how I feel. I think I just got wrapped up in how perfect it would be, you know? You, me, Julie, and Poenix. We would be a proper family. But then there's also this feeling that you give me that no one else can. It's hard to describe," I said, and surprisingly, John looked angry.
  "I can't believe you. You knew that I cared for you, that I loved you, damn it! And you told me to move on? And this is how you feel?" He asked, and immediately regret coursed through my body.
  "John, I am so, so sorry, I thought that was the best way to.handle the situation, and I was obviously wrong," I said, and he ran a hand through his hair.
   "We could've been together!" He said, and I cast my eyes down.
   "We still can be," I proposed, and he laughed cruelly.
   "No, we can't. I don't love you, Blaire," he said, and I felt my heart drop.
   "I'm so sorry," I said again, and he just shook.his head.
   "No, you aren't," he said, and walked out. I felt the tears threatening to spill, but I simply laid back down and tried to forget about John. I failed miserably.
   That night, I found myself in the arms of a stranger yet again. We had met at a bar, and I had already forgotten his name.
  John's words replayed through my head over and over again, like a broken record that never stops spinning.
  "I think she's just sleeping around because she's had it rough làtely."
  "So she is a slut?'
  "I'm not going to answer that."
   "Something on your mind?" The stranger asked, and I shook my head, clearing my thoughts of John. He didn't care about me, and nothing's gonna change that.
   "Nope," I responded.
•••
   In the morning, I had Paul pick me up. I couldn't find the number for a cab company, and there was no way in hell I was calling John.
   "You look...." He started as I got into the car, and I looked down at my appearance. I had on the same dress as yesterday, but it was all wrinkled now from being on the strange Man's floor.
   "Can I stay at your's for today?" I asked, and he nodded.
   "Why?" He asked, and I looked glumly out of the window.
   "I don't have anywhere else to go," I said, and he didn't further question me, thankfully. That was the nice thing about Paul. He knew when to leave me alone.
•••
   When I called John, he wasn't even passed weekend I said that I was staying at Paul's. I was expecting the slightest hint of jealousy, but there wasn't a trace. My mother wasn't bringing the kids home until tomorrow, so I presumed he had a date. I fought the urge not to ask.
   Paul and I slept together that night, and for many more following. We had as mutual understanding that it wasn't anything more than sex, and I often awoke in the arms of other's, as did he.
   In the following weeks, I began going to the studio with Paul after a long night, and John would often take girls too. As much as I wish it didn't, it really angered me.
   Recently, he's been going steady with Savanna again, and it was disgusting. She was so blind in love. She even bought an apartment in London to be closer to him.
   One day at the studio, I was sketching, a past time of mine, and I saw John and Savanna kissing. It made my insides turn, and I excused myself to powder my nose.
   "Blaire, can we talk?" Savanna said as she walked in to the ladies room and I rolled my eyes as I scrutinized myself in the mirror.
  "No, we can't," I said, and she sighed, her reflection joining mine in the mirror.
  "Please, I'm sorry. I love him," she said, and I shook my head, laughing.
  "You're naive. He doesn't love you. It's sad that you stay, when he sleeps with half of London," I said cruelly, and she looked down.
   "I know, but don't act like you're any better than I am. I see the way that you look at him. The way that you long for him. Hell, you live in his house, Blaire! So don't act all high and mighty, okay? You're just like I am," she said, and I couldn't find the words to respond, so she continued, "except I'm not a slut," she said, and walked out.
    I walked back out and tried to seem okay, but it obviously didn't work because George quickly caught on.
   "Are you okay?" He whispered to me, and I glanced across the room at John and Savanna laughing together.
   "Yes," I said through gritted teeth, and George snapped his fingers in front of my face to catch my attention.
  "No, you aren't. What's wrong?"
  "He's happy, and I'm breaking apart. That's what's wrong," I said, and stood, walking away swiftly to talk to Paul.
•••
Wow a lot happened here