There he is, tall and handsome. A rouge, a law unto himself with little or no responsibility for the road of broken hearts that laid behind him. Weeping out for him and he never turned his head. His stature said “Don’t mess with me” but his eyes said “Game on” so I took the chance every girl must learn to regret.
I spoke to him.
His eyes seemed to twinkle and I got an image of a better guy lay beneath but like everything else, it was a ruse. A foreboding look into the future we all missed and paid severely for later. That smouldering look and dashing white smile was enough to make a girl weak in the knees long enough for him to swoop in and save the day, while only thinking of where he would take her that evening, she was thinking what to name their kids.
Watching him from the outside made me feel like a ghost no matter what I did I couldn’t prevent the following events to re-occur, the girl locked in his possessive embrace isn’t me, it used to be but I escaped that vipers grip, she won’t know that when he says he has a family event he’s really seeing the blonde from his English class and she won’t know that while she sits alone thinking about if he’s thinking about her, he’s really making love to the girl locked in the embrace.
Sad to know that everyone but those two knew what he was doing tonight, I pity the girls who are lead on by how sweet his voice sounds when your crying, I feel sorry for the ones who can’t stand up against his body of will making you swoon at the mere thought of a touch on the cheek for those strong hands. Some would kill for the chance to be the one who he touched, I died as a result.
So now I see him standing there, looking at me as if I would make a move towards him, enticing me to play his game. But I know the rules and I don’t like to loose. I can play the game but when he’s my opponent I can never win.
I walk on by and for a moment the world seems to slow down and come to a stop, his finger tips brushed mine for a moment, a single moment but he turned round to see who it was.
I turned round because I wondered if it noticed who I was. His eyes briefly flashed with guilt and disappeared, I wondered if he was remembering the night he left me crying on the park swing. I was fourteen and he was my first love, he’d brought me to the place we had met so long ago spun me into his python grip and kissed me hard on the lips, his hands searching for more. I pushed him away and he left me there… My first love gone.
I wondered if even for a moment the memory of me and he still hung in his mind, probably not. But I hoped as our fingers brushed he would remember how perfectly my hand had fit in his, how many countless nights we’d spent on the phone to one an other, keeping our voice low because it was 4 am in the morning and we had school in the morning. How many times did he think about those days I spent in his arms wondering how life could be so perfect.
I wondered but not for long.
He’s turning away so I scoff in defiance refusing to admit that the thoughts that ran through my head never entered yours. He stopped in his tracks, the lanky red head on his arm pulling him on.
“Come on Tag, she’s not worth it.” She pulls him but he doesn’t move an inch, his eyes never leaving mine, he slips a piece of paper into my palm and smirks while allowing the newest in a long line to pull him away, hanging onto his arm to let people know who she was with. Him, a hand lazily running through his hair as the arm she holds in a death grip hangs loosely and uninterestingly by his side.
I look down at the note and smirk once more the words
“For Jelly Bean, From Toffee Butter.” The nick names we had when we were younger, now eight years on and still the names take me back to a simpler time. I look at the note momentarily, tempted to read the words that tortured him to write.
He knew I’d be here and he waited, well I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
I threw the note away and never turned back. If I had though… I would of known he never stopped remembering that day.