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It wouldn’t matter that I’m doomed.
But they’re gone now.
They’re gone and God, I’ve never felt lonelier.
“You’re not stupid, Salem,” Callie says, breaking into my thoughts. “You’re in love. You just love him.”
I chuckle hollowly. “Yeah, I do. I love him.”
And he’s gone too, isn’t he?
My Arrow.
The boy I wrote those letters for. He left too. He’s probably on a plane right now, going to the place where he belongs.
Because he was always going to leave.
Because everything we had was temporary and it’s for the best.
That’s what he told me and he was right.
It is for the best.
I’ve always been alone in my love. So why should something change now?
Why should my love that has always been doomed suddenly get a new life? Why should he love me when he can’t love anyone?
I’m not that special.
So I’m glad he’s gone. I’m glad it’s over and I’m glad that I can cry and sob and be all emotional without it being a bother to him.
Yeah, glad.
Glad is what I am.
“What happened with him?” Callie asks, hesitantly.
I shrug. “Nothing. He’s leaving.”
“Are you serious?” When I nod, her eyes flash with anger. “God, boys are so stupid, aren’t they? What is wrong with him? Can’t he see that you love him?”
I chuckle again. And again, it’s hollow and it hurts my chest and my throat and my heart.
It hurts everything.
“He can. That’s why he’s leaving.”
She scoffs, sitting back in her chair. “What a giant douchebag. I fucking hate boys.”
And just like that, her dark circles become prominent.
They aren’t even circles; they’re pits, and her cheekbones are sunken and I realize that my friend needs me too.
Gathering whatever energy I have, I pull myself and sit up. “Callie, will you please tell me what’s going on between you and him?” She stiffens and I grab her hand. “I know about keeping secrets, okay? I know. But please, let me help you. Please tell me what’s going on with you?”
Tears shine in her eyes as she whispers, “Nothing.” She sniffles. “Everything.”
“Talk to me. Tell me, please. Maybe I can help.”
“No one can help me.”
“Callie, come on. What is it?”
She opens her mouth and breathes out. A teardrop streams down her cheek as she whispers, “I think… I think I’m pregnant.”
My fingers tighten around her hand. “What?”
Ducking her head, she nods. “I’m pregnant. I haven’t taken the test b-but I know.”
“Is that why… Is that why you’ve been throwing up?”
Her shoulders slump and when they shake, I get my confirmation.
Gosh, I’ve been such an idiot.
We all have been.
Callie has been throwing up in the mornings, but she’d be okay all day. Isn’t that like, the most obvious sign?
Leaning forward, I push back her soft blonde hair and urge her to look at me. “God, Callie. I’m so sorry. I’m…” My eyes fill up with tears too. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
She whips her eyes up, all red-rimmed and angry. “Because I’m such an idiot, Salem. I’m the biggest idiot in the world. He broke my heart, okay? That asshole broke my heart and I promised myself that I’d never ever fall for him again. And he comes back into town and I do the exact thing I told myself I wouldn’t. And now I’m pregnant. With that… villain’s baby and…”
I rub her back in circles. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. We’ll figure things out. We’ll –”
“There’s nothing to figure out. Don’t you see? It’s not as if I can keep it a secret. People are gonna know and they’ll expel me from St. Mary’s and God, my brother is gonna be so mad at me.” She covers her face, crying, and my tears start spilling too.
“Does he… Does Reed know?”
She shakes her head before lifting it, her watery eyes filled with determination, with a look that says she’s a girl betrayed in love. “No, and I’m not going to tell him either.”
“But shouldn’t he know? I mean, he… he’s the dad.”
“Fuck him, okay? Fuck him. He lied to me all those years ago. I thought he loved me but he didn’t. I was the only one in love, and apparently I still am because look at me, spreading my legs for him like a stupid slut. But that’s it. That’s all he’s taking from me. I’m not giving him my baby.”
“But Callie, I think you should really –”
My words die out when I hear a commotion outside.
Much like the one I heard last night when I entered the dorm building and found my love story exposed to everyone at the school.
But this one is much more violent.
This commotion has crashing sounds and thundering footsteps and a growly voice. “Where is she? Where the fuck is she?”
His voice.
It reaches me through the corridor and the glass windows of my room and raises itself above the beep, beep, beep of the machines and the thump, thump, thump of my heart.
