"It was just a kiss. It didn't mean anything."
I lay in bed with those words running through my head. No matter how much time passed, I could still see her clearly, the slight smile on her lips as she formed the words, masking the uncertainty in her eyes.
She hadn't meant it. I was sure that she hadn't truly meant it. I remembered that night, when she'd stood with me under the moon, and her arms had wrapped around my waist. I'd rested my hand against her cheek, stroked her hair, and she'd closed her eyes as our lips met in the darkness. I'd felt her fingers press against my back, pulling me against her as she pressed her mouth to mine. She'd acted without fear or restraint, she'd been the true beauty I knew she could be, the one who didn't care what everyone else thought or wanted.
But in the light of day, she was back to Miss Perfect. Back to the girl everyone admired, the girl who made her Daddy proud. Straight backed, white teethed, doe eyed, and never a hair out of place. The girl who pleased everyone but herself. The girl who broke my heart. And now I watched her walk through the halls, arm in arm with Mr Perfect, while no one else could see it for the lie that it was.
They loved her because she was perfect. But I loved her for who she was.
I turned my head, half wishing that she would be laying beside me. But the blonde who lay in her place was not quite as lovely or engaging. Her body warmed my bed, but she did nothing to feed my spirit. When I looked at her, I could never see her as she was, only as what she was not; not as beautiful in body, or mind, or soul; not her. It wasn't Brittany's fault; it was just that for all that she was, she wasn't my Quinn.
But for now, she was all I had. At least she didn't lie to me, or to herself. She didn't put up a face for the benefit of her admirers.
She didn't break my heart.
