floating | ✓

38| gwen

A/N: Caution, this chapter might be triggering to some readers after the first *****. If it is, you can skip it. You won't miss the plot. I'd give you a brief before starting the next one.

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“At any given moment in your life you have the right to say that, no, this is not how my story ends.”

- tidally_locked

38| gwen

I need to get out of here before I start going down all over again, before I break down into pieces. I would rather die before letting anyone see how weak and broken I am right now.

I walk quickly down the hallway.

“Gwen!” I hear my name being called.

How much did I want to hear that voice? How much did I love it before?

“Gwen, wait!”

I don’t slow down. I make my way out of the school building. I am regretting wearing heels instead of regular shoes.

I reach the parking lot. It takes a little time to find my car. That little time is too long.

“Gwen.” I hear that voice closer to me.

He grabs my hand.

“Don’t,” I snap. I snatch my hand out of his.

I don’t look at him. I can’t afford to.

“Gwen, I have been looking for you the whole day. I went to your house, but your parents said you had already left,” he says breathlessly, as if he has been running.

“I called you. I texted you,” he says. “You didn’t pick up, you didn’t reply.”

I look around. Why am I standing here? I should just leave.

“What is going on, Gwen?” he asks. He sounds confused.

Of course, he doesn’t understand.

I gather all of my energy and finally look at him. He is looking at me with wide frantic eyes, eyes full of apprehension and question.

Oliver Carlson looks lost.

He should get an oscar.

I laugh. “You don’t understand. Right.”

Oliver looks helpless. “Gwen, did I do something?”

It feels ironic. It’s taking me so much just to stand here and listen to him. I want to hit him and ask him why. I want to ask him what my fault was. I want to know how he could do this to me.

But look at him acting all innocent and heartbroken, as if I am the one who did something wrong.

I can’t take this anymore.

“No, you didn’t,” I say. My nails are digging in my palms. I have to hurt myself, or else I will break right here.

“You did nothing,” I say. “It’s me.”

It is me. It is my fault for falling so hopelessly in love. It is my fault that I didn’t get it when we were together and he never asked me out.

I didn’t think hard about the fact that we were not even in a relationship in the first place.

He doesn’t owe me anything. I am the one who fell in love with him.

I can’t even say he cheated on me. We were not a relationship. I am not his girlfriend. He never said anything about liking me.