I Choose You | ✓

Chapter 47: "Hours of moping."

S O P H I E   W I L K I N S

I give him my last words before slamming the door in his face.

"I was never yours."

Leaning against the door, I look to the ceiling and draw in a deep breath, rolling in my lips. I blink rapidly to get rid of the glossy sheen of tears that are thickening by the second. All I want to do right now is sob in my mom's arms as she comforts and tells me that everything's going to be okay, but devastatingly, I'm home alone.

I dash up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, and drop my bag on the ground. Suddenly, warm trickles of fresh tears spill out of my eyes and stream down my cheeks. A few tears splash on the wooden planks in front of my feet, and I wipe away the new tears that are falling as much as I can.

A loud grumble sounds outside my house, and I hear Andrew speed away, only causing me to sob harder. I walk towards my bed and spot my favorite picture of Andrew and I cast in a wooden horizontal frame, sitting on my nightstand. I study it and the memories roll in.

In the background of the picture, the sky was painted with streaks of pink, purple, and orange because of the transition from afternoon to nightfall. My Minnie ears were sparkling brightly against the sun as I snapped the photo with the Mickey Ferris wheel also in the background. My pearly whites were on full display as Andrew stood behind me with his aviators on. The apples of his cheeks were also prominent as he smiled while leaning down to give me a peck on the cheek.

The nostalgic flashback becomes a desolate and painful memory, and I slam the frame down so that it won't remind me of the past. Deception vexation and most of all, heartbreak, along with many more emotions overwhelm me. My sobs only become heavier and vehement as I lay there alone, the black hole in my stomach sucking all of the life out of me. 

After hours of moping, I phone Bree, and she picks up on the third ring.

"Hey, Soph." Her tone is bubbly and carefree, and I become slightly envious of the feeling.

"Bree," I whimper through the phone.

"Oh my gosh, what happened? You sound like you've been crying for hours on end." All contentment in her voice is canceled out by concern and perturbation.

"I have." A sniffle escapes and I take in a breath so that I don't start to hyperventilate.

"What? Why?" Before I can respond, she interjects, "You know what, I'm coming over now."

"Okay, I'll explain everything when you're here." Bree immediately hangs up and within five minutes, she shows up.

As soon as I open the door by a crack, she bursts in and engulfs me in a tight and warm embrace. I wrap my arms around her back and nestle my face into her shoulder. A soothing silence envelops is as she rubs my back.

Then, I feel a chill run down my back as I realize something cold and hard is pressed against my back. I pull away and she drops her arms from around me.

"I brought your favorite, Chocolate Lover's Delight." She waves a plastic bag with a rectangular tube of ice cream in hopes of raising my mood, which slightly improves at the mention of my favorite ice cream.

I snatch the bag out of her hands and run to the kitchen to grab a spoon. Bree makes herself comfortable on my bed as I sit cross-legged in front of her, ripping the cover off of the container. I dig in my spoon and take the first bite and exhale strongly as I close my eyes in delight. Mmm, ice cream is always the answer for a heartbreak.

I hear Bree chuckle lightly and she sits up from the headboard, "Now, tell me what happened."

I explain to Bree all of the drama that's unfolded, sniffles and fresh tears forming in my eyes throughout the entire story.

"I can't believe him. What an asshole!" I reply by somberly digging my spoon in the half-eaten tube and stuff a huge chunk of brownie in my mouth. "I'm so sorry, Soph. The way he treated you, and the way he looked at you...I thought he liked you a lot."

"I thought so too," I mope, tracing the patterns of my bed sheets with my index finger.

"Well jokes on him, he just lost the best thing that's ever happened to him," Bree declares, her tone becoming calmer as she wraps her arms around me once again.

Her phone rings with Bryan's caller ID showing, but she ignores it.

"It's okay, Bree. You could've taken his call." But she firmly shakes her head.

"No way. Even though I love bouts of you dearly, you will always be more important." A soft smile sprouts in my face as I lean back down onto her shoulder.

I discreetly wake my phone and look at the screen. No new messages.

A N D R E W   D A L T O N

As I pass through the ornate black gates, my hand begins to grow numb from gripping on the steering wheel, knuckles white from the intense pressure.

The front door slams shut behind me and I run up to my room, too busy in my thoughts to hear my mom calling after me.

I fall backward onto my bed and stare blankly at the ceiling, dazed at today's events. Millions of thoughts race against each other in my mind, and before I knew it, the once orange streaked sky was now dark with white dots twinkling from above.

Feeling to the side, I grab my phone, nibbling on my bottom lip. When I press the home button, the image of Shortcake and me light up my screen.

It's a picture of our kiss at Disneyland while the grand finale of fireworks was going off in the background. A photographer had seen us and snapped a photo of us sharing the intimate moment. After, he had come up to us and said that we were "young and in love teens with a special spark." I chuckled and looked down at Shortcake who was blushing severely.

My fingerprint causes the phone to unlock, and once again, another image of Shortcake pops up behind the apps on the home screen. This time, it's a picture of her posing at the edge of the pier in Santa Monica with another sunset behind her, moments before that asshole bumped her on the shoulder and caused her to drop her cup of ice cream. Her expression is euphoric and carefree, her infectious smile spread across her cheeks while she wore my aviators.

The memories fill my heart with dread. Fuck, I really screwed up this time.

I tap the Messages icon and start to type out a phrase, but quickly deleted it. The cycle continues until I finally groan in exasperation and throw the phone beside me. No amount of messages will ever be a good enough explanation; I need to tell her in person about how my feelings for her have evolved, how she makes me go crazy when she's not around. My hands run over my face before sliding into my disheveled hair.

I huff out a heavy breath and become lost in my thoughts. Maybe I'll just give her a few days of space, then I'll try to talk to her again.

I might've just lost the best thing that's ever happened to me. This time, for good.

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See you in the next chapter! ~Karlee 💛