Eddie didn’t even try to win me back.
Maybe, to him, this was a relief.
Or perhaps he thought I was just making a scene, believing that if he ignored me long enough, I’d eventually come crawling back.
I felt like a shell of my former self as I trudged back to school.
I aimlessly walked around the playground, my heart aching as I tried to convince myself to cut this emotional anchor once and for all.
It wasn’t until darkness fell and my feet ached from all the walking that I realized I was the only one left on the field. Finally, I broke down and sank to the ground, weeping openly.
In the dead of night, a shadow suddenly appeared, climbing over the fence and landing not too far from me.
Nick Fanning spotted me and paused, momentarily taken aback.
His expression shifted quickly into something more aggressive as he rolled up his sleeves and declared, “Well, well, well! Look
I’ve finally caught!”
who I’ve finally caught!”
But once he took in my tear–stained face, his bravado faltered. Nick froze and stuttered, “W… What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
Nick was a childhood acquaintance, but we weren’t particularly close.
His parents were in business, and they had some dealings with my family.
When we were kids, they had left him in the countryside with his grandfather for most of his early years, only bringing him back when he was a teenager.
heir.
By then, Nick was already a bit of a lost cause.
His parents had high hopes for him, envisioning a brilliant future at a top university and expecting him to become a worthy
But sadly, Nick wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.
I might not be the brightest student, but I was a principled kind of underachiever. I followed the rules, stayed out of trouble, and never did anything that would cause my parents or teachers to lose sleep.
Nick, on the other hand, was a whole different story. Growing up in the countryside, he had developed a carefree demeanor. Skipping class and getting into fights were just part of his routine. It got so bad that he was expelled during the second semester of our senior year.
Later, when they learned I was studying art, his parents thought they’d struck gold.
Even if their son was a failure, perhaps exposure to some culture would elevate him to a cultured failure.
So they threw money at him to enroll in my school.
But Nick had no interest in painting. His passion lay in playing the guitar. Every morning, I woke up to his grand plans of forming a band, dreaming of turning it into an entertainment company to launch his classmates into internet stardom.
Eventually, when his parents tried to get the scoop on what Nick was up to, I honestly told them everything.
And then, he got into serious trouble at home.
His mom smashed his guitar and cut off his allowance.
After he’d pooled together quite a bit of money to start his band, they left him to fend for himself to pay back what he owed.
That was when Nick started to resent me.
Now, seeing me cry, Nick turned to leave, but something compelled him to stay.
Nick meekly settled down beside me, obviously torn about how to handle the situation. “Um, hey… could you maybe hold off on the crying until I finish settling the score?”
I ignored him, continuing to sob quietly. He scratched his head and relented. “Alright, you go ahead and cry for now. After you’re done, I’ll come back and we’ll sort out the rest.”
Minutes ticked by, and soon, Nick was tugging at his hair in frustration. “Goodness gracious! So, uh… could you just tell me why you’re crying?”
He offered to order me some takeout and buy me a drink, throwing in a dessert cake for good measure.
Nick quietly placed the cake in front of me, saying, “How about you have a slice? I’ve heard that when girls feel down, they love something sweet…”
Then he nudged the water bottle toward me. “Or, you know, you could drink some water… I mean, you’re crying so hard, I’m worried about you getting dehydrated…”
I felt a pang of sadness wash over me.
After all, Eddie had never once tried to cheer me up.
