I gripped the edge of my desk as I saw Lucas giving Miley her big Valentine bear, and her lean in and peck him on the lips, wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight embrace.
I don't know why I still let it bother me. Its been three years since Miley broke up with me, I just had to learn to get over her.
Easier said then done.
I saw her throw me a quick glance, trying to make it look like she was just letting her eyes wonder around the room, but I knew her. More than I knew anybody else. When she saw me staring at her and Liam, she smiled, leaned in, and kissed him more passionately.
(After School)
I was walking across the street to my car when I saw it happen. It was all to fast, and I didn't have time to think.
I dropped my bag and dived.
Right infront of a car.
Right in between the car and Miley.
(Three days later, at the funeral)
I attempted to wipe the tears from my eyes, but they were falling to freely, to fast to stop them.
This all felt like a dream, a very painful dream.
I had read about things like these, but the person who I would be playing would feel numb.
I wished for the numbness.
Prayer for it.
But it wasn't coming.
The pain engulfed me, suffocated me, squeezed me until I couldn't breathe and I was gasping at the surface for air.
I felt like I was drounding.
Dying.
Along with Nick.
His parents were walking up to me, and I wanted too be brave and talk to them.
Wanted too.
But I tried to turn around.
Tried.
I felt somebody grab my shoulder. I turned around and attempted a smile, I could feel how fake it would look.
It was Nick's mother, her face stained with mascara that the tears had left trailing down her face.
And I gave in.
I pulled her into a tight hug.
"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Jonas," I choked out through my sobs.
She hugged me back, as tightly, or tighter, as I was hugging her.
She rubbed my back and said in a clear voice, "It's not your fault Miley. You didn't want that to happen. And I know how he would if it were you. It would be intolerable to him."
I swallowed the waves of hysteria attempting to bubble out.
I could feel the line of greavers forming behind me and squeezed tighter before letting go.
I patted her arm and said, "Stay strong."
As I was turning away, she grabbed my shoulder again and said, "Wait, Miley. Nick would want you to have this."
His songs.
(A week later)
Today, Fedruary 23rd, teen Miley Cyrus was found dead in her room at three-ten a.m. The cause of death was evident at first glance. She had hung herself. It was obvious it was suicide. But the most surprising part was a sheet of lyrics, seemingly ripped out from a page of a notebook. It was entitled Grenade, by, late teen, Nick Jonas. It appears that Cyrus spray-painted,"I would catch a grenade for you, Nick," onto the wall behind where her body was dangling from the cieling.
