I woke up that morning to the sound of my alarm. I hadn't even realized that I set it, but then again, last night was mostly a haze. Well, after everything between Roger and I. Because after that, there wasn't much to pay attention to. The night mostly consisted of tears, and more tears. Why would I even try?
I was irratable now, especially since there hadn't been much sleep for me last night. Too busy wondering, crying, dying. So now I basically slumped my way up from the bed, reluctant to go to school. Seeing Roger's face at a moment like this was the last thing I wanted. There was no telling how I would react.
So with little effort, I pulled on some clothes and grabbed my book bag. Not bothering to do my hair or see wether my clothes even matched, I walked down the stairs and straight past my family. Talking to them was also something that I tried my best to avoid. Especially since the awkward talk with my dad, I didn't know what that ment for us. Did he expect us to be friends now? It didn't matter to me much, so I disregaurded the possiblity.
I stared at the clock. There was a half hour before school started which was not enough time to walk all the way there, but I wasn't about to ask my parents, so I trudged off without even a good bye.
Thankfully I didn't catch any glimpses of Roger's rusty old pick up on my way. And by the time first hour was half way over, I arrived. It was the first time I had ever been late and the lady at the attendence office gave me a look like she couldn't figure me out. "Can I get a tardy pass?" I asked. She gave me one of those old lady smiles that said she loved to, the kind that annoyed me.
So I walked to first hour, handing my teacher the pass when I arrived. He also gave me a look like he didn't understand, but I was too lazy to make an excuse to why I was late. I just sat in my seat trying to focus on whatever the lesson was about.
Focusing didn't exactly work. Most of the class was spent thinking about Roger, even though I hated to do that at a time like this. I was so angry still, but even with that, I missed him. Does that make sence? It doesn't matter... Nothing really does anymore.
The day passed and when lunch came my friends gave me strange looks. Most of them must've known it had something to do with Roger, so they let me be. Some them tried to spark conversations with me though, but I just told them I was tired, and they left me alone.
I kind of felt bad, not letting my friends help, but I knew that if we talked that there was the risk I would begin crying agian and that wouldn't be good, not in front of all these people. I could barely stand to cry in front of myself. But I couldn't exactly help it when it came to Roger. Some things were just too hard to control.
But I knew it was inevitable. Chemistry was bound to happen, and there I would be, sitting behind Roger, trying not to cry my eyes out. But I tried my best, held myself back, and told myself that there was no way I would let myself do that. I wouldn't give Roger the satisfaction to know that I wanted him. Did hard to get ever really work? Not that I would be able to forget this, even if he did come crawling back to me, but its nice to dream. It'd be even nicer to know that he actually needed me, but I didn't see that coming anytime soon.
So I sat done in my seat, behind the most beautiful man in the world, and tried my best to not look at him. It would only hurt me. But then I heard Mimi's annoying giggle and I looked up. There she was, practically all over him, her arm on his shoulder. "What a hoe..." I mummbled to myself.
To my suprise, she looked up. I guess she'd been called that before. "Do you have something to say?" she asked, her stare turning into more of a glare.
Wondering who she was talking to, I assumed, Roger turned around. He gave me some blank look, so I just stared back at him, hoping he didn't see the pain in my eyes. I couldn't let him know I was dying inside. If he could get along just fine, so could I. At least that's how I wanted him to see it.
But still Mimi stared at me like she wanted me to answer her. "Not at all," I answered with a smirk.
She gave me a dirty look and so did Roger. It gave me some satisfaction that I made him angry, but not as much as it would have if he would've said sorry, and came back to me. But I couldn't change that, so I needed to get passed it.
But there was still that lingering hate for Mimi and when I looked at her, it deepened. And when Roger took his hand a brushed the hair away from her face, wow did that piss me off. But then I realized, this was less hate. More jealousy. I wanted that to be me. I wanted Roger to talk to me, touch me, but here he was, doing that with some random girl, and it killed me.
"What are you staring at?" Immediately, I blushed. I hadn't even realized that I had been looking straight at her, not even trying to disguise that I was looking and listening to them.
Roger turned around again, and gave me an angry look. I could tell that he was getting angry, which made me angry too. "Mark, what is your problem?"
I shook my head. There was no hiding it. The pain was obvious. Tears came in my eyes, but I wouldn't let them fall down my cheeks; I couldn't. I just looked at him, and he looked at me. His face changed a bit. It seemed as if there was concern now, something I had wanted all along.
But he shook his head, closed his eyes, and turned away from me. That made me wonder, was he hurting too? I instantly felt guilty for making him feel that way, although that was how I was feeling. But for some reason, his feelings ment more to me than my own.
Mimi was still looking at me though, her big brown eyes burning me. I didn't know what do to. Why was she glaring at me? Maybe she hated me as much as I hated her. Who knows? "What?" I finally asked.
Roger turned around again, with his face blank again. They both were staring at me. Mimi gave me some dirty look. "Was I talking to you?" she asked.
"No, you were just staring at me," I corrected with the best attitude I could conjure up.
"Mark," Roger snapped. Now he was giving me a look like he was pleading or something. I didn't know for what though.
"Yes?" I questioned, giving him the same attitude I gave her. He deserved it as much as she did. Maybe even more.
He shook his head at me. Was he dissapointed over something? There was no reason for it. "Will you stop?"
"I didn't even do anything. She's the one that's glaring at me like the bitch she is," I said. I didn't care if she heard. I didn't care if anyone heard. That's how I felt and I didn't care who knew.
"Mark, calm down. We went through all of this last night. It's done. Why do you keep on doing this?" he asked, but I could tell there was more. He was pleading with his voice now, but I still didn't know what for.
I slammed my hand on the table. I knew people were looking, but that didn't matter. I was so pissed, so angry, so hurt. "You know damn well why I'm doing this! Why are you doing this? Why are you throwing away everything we built?"
He shook his head agian. His eyes were still begging for me to stop, but I couldn't. He spoke softly, without drawing anymore attention. "You don't understand. I keep telling you that, but you don't get what its like for me."
I rolled my eyes. "What what's like?" What could it be? There was nothing different now than before, other than us not being together. What could possibley be so hard?
He closed his eyes. Mimi was still staring at me, while listening keenly, like she was waiting for him to say something. Roger took a deep breathe then. "Mark. I need to talk to you about this later. Now is not the time. Please. Just let me come over after school or something. Just not right now. Please," he said looking into his eyes. It was like a mirror of mine. I saw pain. I saw sorrow, and I couldn't help but agree.
The class went on with nothing as did the day. That was the last time I talked to Roger in school until it was over. The whole time I was wondering what was about to happen and as I stepped into his car, I was still wondering. But I did not speak. I waited to see if there was something he wanted to say so the whole time to my house I was silent, but so was he.
I watched him drive and he seemed focused on the road, like it was the only place he could look. He didn't once look at me, while I stared at him. I liked to see him, but this time was so different, so wrong. He clutched the wheel like he was holding on for dear life, and he never once glanced at me.
When we reached my house, it was the same. With so much silence between us, so much tension, I began to think that this was a bad decision. Was anything going to change when we reached my room, or was this going to go on? And if it did, could I handle it?
I walked into my room, and sat on my bed. Roger slowly trailed behind and sat next to me, but far enough so our bodies didn't touch. It hurt bad to see that he didn't want to be close to me. Maybe it hurt him to, and he thought I didn't want it. But how could he after what happened today? He knew I loved him, didn't he? "Roger, I love you," I blurted out out of nowhere.
He looked down the way he always did when he was ashamed, and instantly I felt bad for saying anything at all. But slowly, with hesitation, he reached his hand over and placed it softly on mine. The touch was nice and I felt that instant shock I always did when he touched me. "I know that hurt you. I'm sorry." That was all he said.
Tightly closing my eyes, I let a tear fall down my cheek. I didn't know what to do. If he cared, if he cared at all, he would be saying that right now, not feeling bad for me. There was nothing left to do. "I understand, Roger. I just got mad earlier. You know how I feel about you, and now I know how you feel. You can go. It's no big deal." Although it ment everything to me. He ment everything.
"How do I feel then Mark, if you know everything?" he asked, raising his voice. More tears fell down. There was no way it was going to end any better than before. It was undeniable. Pain was the only answer.
"Don't make me say it," I pleaded. I couldn't say that he didn't love me, even though I knew it was true. But there was still this little piece in my heart that hoped that it wasn't true.
"You don't even know what this is about," he said.
He just kept saying that. When would it stop? I thought he was here to explain, but then he says the same thing. I just wanted it to end. Just wanted him to go, but I didn't understand. "Why are you still saying that? What don't I get?"
"It's," he paused slightly. "It's nothing," he sighed.
How could he say that? It was everything. If it was nothing, he wouldn't be doing this, this wouldn't be happening. We'd be happy, we'd be making love, instead of destroying it. This shouldn't be ending. "Why are you so hooked on her?" I asked pleading to understand. I needed to know why none of this was working, and why it would never work again.
"I'm not hooked on her," he said. This made no sence whats so ever.
"Then what are you hooked on? Why do you go to her?" I asked, scared to hear the answer.
"I'm hooked on what she has," he said softly, slowly.
Wow. That's when it hit me. "So this is just about sex? You're giving up the love we had for sex?!" I screamed in his face. How could something so simple, something so meaningless without love, cause him to completely alter his life?
Roger quickly shook his head, flinging his golden hair into the hair. The hair I loved. "No, no, no, Mark. You have it all wrong. How could you even think that of me?" He wasn't screaming, he was truly confused. I was too. I had never thought about him just wanting someone for sex, but then again, if he could do all this, then why wouldn't he do that?
"Then what is it?" I asked for what seemed like the hundreth time.
"Nothing. I was just confused about stuff. There was some much going on with us and so much that people knew. I couldn't handle it. I needed an escape, but I don't care about any of that anymore. I don't need Mimi. I need you," he said, looking down. He made it all sound so simple. He couldn't have gone through all that to say this, could he? I doubt it. But I wasn't about to give up him, for something like this. It could be true.
"What does that mean?" I asked with a slight smile.
He smiled back at me, and my world went crazy. There was so much to his smile, so much to how it made me feel. I felt I was lighting up the room. And when he kissed me it was passionate, forgiving, loving, and there was nothing more that I wanted. And then when we made love, it was real love. Everything that had happen, everything that I thought was ruined forever, was built up agian.
I didn't understand this, this feeling. There was more to it this time. Some how, when you think that things can't get better, they do. Like this very moment. My life was shifting and replacing my broken heart with a healed, happy one. There was nothing I wanted more at that moment that to be with Roger for the rest of my life. And I truly believed thats how it was going to work out.
Well, I liked the meaning of this chapter and stuff, although it was similar to the last one. But it has more meaning. And I know that a lot of Mark's feelings change and I would fix it, but at this moment, I'm way too tired to do any of that. And sorry for all the mistakes and bad things. When I reread it tomorrow or whenever and I think its terrible, I'll just rewrite it, no big deal.
Thanks again for all the reveiws. Hope you like it. Hope its not too boring. Don't worry, next chapter you'll find more about why Roger is being so terrible and such. Thanks.