AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Teresa squeezes my hand. “Was the punch at school spiked?”
“Yeah, I wish.” I stare at the walls of my bedroom, unable to focus on anything through the blur of tears. “After YouTube, I want to burn all his pictures, except I don’t have any because no one prints photos anymore. You have to code an app for an ex-boyfriend exorcism bonfire, Tessie. Can you do that?”
My sister considers for a second. “That could actually be a valid business endeavor. An app that makes a facial-recognition scan of all the pics on your phone and deletes the ones with your ex. The technology is not quite there yet, but I bet a lot of gals would download it if it became available. What should we call it?”
“Burn Your Ex? BurnEx? No, something more dramatic: the witches are burning you, you sorry excuse of a pathetic ex-boyfriend.”
“That might be too long for an app, but we can work on it. Anything else on your post-breakup list?”
I sniff. “No.”
Teresa nods sagely. “And you want to do all that while still wearing your prom dress?”
“Yes!”
“Tonight?”
“No, not tonight. Tonight, I’ll just cry myself to sleep in my room if that’s okay with you.”
“Sweetheart, whatever you need.”
On impulse, I hug her. “I’m glad Mom and Dad went on a cruise and that you’re with me instead.”
Teresa pulls back to look at me. “They would’ve supported you just the same.”
“Not if I had to explain where I was tonight.”
“The Trents’ prom after-party like you told me, right?”
“Not exactly.” I manage the first half-smile of the night. “And that’s why you’re the coolest sister in the world, because you’re not going to ask.”
“I’m not going to ask tonight.” Teresa scowls. “But we’re going to have a talk tomorrow, all right?” She gets up from my bed and drops a kiss on top of my head. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay on your own? We can sleep together in Mom and Dad’s bed.”
“No, I’m okay. I mean, I’m not okay, obviously, but I will be.”
After my sister leaves, I go to my desk and contemplate the photo memo board hung above it. Pinned there is the only physical picture of John I have. It’s four pictures, actually. We took them in one of those tourist booths the summer of junior year. A spur-of-the-moment thing I never thought I’d regret.
In the top one, we’re making silly faces at the camera. In the second, John is kissing my cheek, and I’m smiling like an idiot. For the third one, we’re full-on making out. As I stare at the fourth passport photo, my heart skips a beat and tears resurface in my eyes. This last one is the worst. In this one, we’re just staring at each other unmistakably, helplessly in love.
I open the drawer of my desk where I keep my incense-burning kit and take out a lighter.
With the picture in my hands, I climb out of the window and sit on the windowsill, my naked feet skimming the roof tiles.
I hold the photo up to the midnight starry sky and set it on fire.
The film disappears in a quick blaze, cinders lazily floating into the night.
I take a deep breath, inhaling the smoke from the burning picture, and close my eyes. When I reopen them, an inferno is blazing within me.
I let it smolder and gain momentum, fueling my rage.
“I hate you, Johnny Raikes,” I say into the wind that carries the ashes of our relationship. “I will never forgive you for what you did.”
2
JOHN
Present Day
