Hearts and Heels

01 // in which jen realizes she hates being a female

          I don’t think I’ve ever been this humiliated and embarrassed in my life. Ever.

          I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to punch someone this bad. Ever.

          I don’t think I’ve ever thought of my boyfriend screwing my best friend behind my back constantly. Ever.

          My throat clogs up with incoherent words, and colorful curses, and unshed tears, and strangled screams as I watch my boyfriend continue to kiss my best friend on her neck, and many other places I can’t bear to see. My ears start to hurt as my best friend continues to moan my boyfriend’s name in pleasure and delight. Is this really my boyfriend? The same guy who has a girl pushed between him and the wall. Is this really my best friend? The same girl who has her legs wrapped around my boyfriend’s waist, her arms curled around his neck. No, it can’t be.

          “Seth?” I call out my boyfriend’s name, my voice cracking, then my best friend’s, “Melanie?” Why am I still hoping that those two people in front of me aren’t who I think they are? Why am I still hoping that they are another couple who decided to screw each other in an empty bedroom on a pre-Valentine’s day party? Why, when I can already distinguish Seth’s warm dark blond hair, broad shoulders from behind, and Melanie’s fiery red hair that she recently dyed?

          Just as they hear me, Seth’s body visibly freezes, while Melanie instantly shoots her eyes open, staring at me in shock. Then, all at once, as if the fact that I’m right here, staring at them making out behind my back, collides into their small ignorant brains, Melanie scrambles out of Seth’s arms, and he turns around, looking completely alert and mortified. I draw in a huge breath, closing my eyes, processing this image and information into my head. How did this happen?

          “Jen, look, I can explain,” Seth starts, his voice wary and light, his gaze soft yet intense.

          Then, he starts trotting towards me, and I step back, whispering, “Don’t.”

          He obeys, standing in an ample distance away from me. I switch my glance between him and Melanie in disbelief and confusion, and I can’t help but feel the urge to punch one of them—the girl who has been my best friend ever since middle school, and the boy who I’ve loved for four years. “Why?” I breathe airily, barely a whisper. “Why did you do this?”

          His lips turn into a small frown as he watches me; as he’s waiting for the moment when I’m going to break down. And that’s all I can ever do. Just break down. He knows me too well to know that I can never throw a fit at the both of them, because I love them too much. I care about them too much. He’s taking advantage of me.

          “We’ve been . . .” Melanie chimes in, walking towards me with light steps, “seeing each other, Jen.”

          I glare at her, sending daggers in her way. She should’ve known better. She should’ve known that she shouldn’t go for my boyfriend. I’ve talked to her so many times about him, about how funny and charming he is, about he is the perfect boyfriend—then, a thought occurs to me in bolt.

          Is that why she went after him? Because I told so many great qualities about him?

          Oh God. This is all my fault.

          I swallow. “H—how long?”

          “Six months,” Seth answers. “It started when she brought you to the club downtown, and you invited me. Remember that night?”