Kicking
I see her standing there talking to Max. My hands are balled up in a fist ready to punch anything in my way. Max saved her. Why didn't I. I'm mad at myself. I could have been the one. Of course I was afraid. So I'm just the guy that makes out with her best friend and leaves. I don't know why I did. She was there. I was alone. I wanted her. But she wasn't there. Maria was. She probably thinks I'm nothing. I don't blame her, but then, she was there. When I was sick she joined the circle. But it was for Max and not me. I know it but I just want to feel that she did it for me.
She stands there in her red tank and bellbottomed jeans, laughing and smiling, leaning against her locker while Max talks to her. How I wish I could just push Max out of the way and let her see me. But I can't and for obvious reasons. Max is the leader and he gets what he wants. I go for it. Without thinking. Why am I thinking now? Why can't I just go for it? Do what I think is right and not hold back. I think I know why. It because it's her. I read her journal. It was filled with things about us, about him, about me, but not as much as him. He stands there with his cocky smile. She smiles at him. I feel myself tighten as I see his hand soon wrap around her waist. I can't take it anymore.
I walk away. Then again that's what I'm good at. Walking, running away. I've done it so many times before. I need to interrupt them. It's the only pleasure I get during the day. Interrupting them, that way he can't get what he wants, but neither can she and that thought always brings me down. I want her to be happy, but why does it have to be with him. I stand here and watch, as they lean in. As they kiss passionately. I hate it. I didn't interrupt this time. They both got what they wanted. Why did they have to do it in front of me? And when Maxwell knows. Both he and Isabel know and yet he smothers it in my face. I hate him.
"Maxwell, I need to talk to you," I say as I walk over to them after they're done. He turns and smiles at me. She looks down. I look straight ahead and I don't acknowledge her.
"Ok, but make it quick," he says. I walk over to the other side of the hall, where she can't here.
"Why do you do that?"
"Well, I know how much you hate it and I'm very surprised you didn't interrupt us like you do usually," he says with that cocky smile plastered on his face.
"I just wanted her to be happy. Never mind, why would you care," I say. He laughs. He laughs hard. Liz hears. She walks over. I turn away.
"What's so funny?" she says smiling. I looked into her eyes. They showed that she was happy.
"Nothing. See you later Maxwell," I say as I walk away. As I walk towards the door, I hear her say I love you. But she isn't saying it to me. She's saying it to him. I hurt more. I finally reach the door and I look back. I must have been dreaming because I see her pushing him away. I then realize they were just playing. I walk out into the parking lot. I get on my bike and drive home. I go into my room. My fits of rage come out here. I punch my wall and I kick. I'm kicking out fiercely at the world around me. I soon sick down in a corner and cry. I don't cry, for anyone but I do for her.
"Michael?" comes a voice from behind my door. It soon opens and she is standing there. I look up. My checks are moist from my tears, my eyes are red. I stand up and walk over to her. She begins to cry and I don't know why. She and I hold each other and soon sick back to the ground. Her head is buried in my shirt.
"What went wrong?" I ask while stroking her thick brown hair.
"Nothing, I just saw you," She says. I could only hope what that meant. And sure enough, it did. I held her head. She placed her hand on top of mine and stared at me, smiling.
Months later, I see her standing there, in her red tank and bellbottomed jeans. She's smiling at him and he's smiling at her. She's leaning against her locker. My hands are balled up in fists yet again. Rage, circulating through my blood. What I thought was true was nothing but a sick game, but I still love her. I can never deny that. I just want her to be happy. If she's happy with Max, then that's where she will be. I can't stop that. I soon see them kiss. I don't interrupt. I don't drag him away when they stop. I leave. I go home. I let out my rage. But I kick. I'm kicking yet again. Out fiercely at the world around me. And I ask myself, what went wrong. I keep kicking.
The End.
I see her standing there talking to Max. My hands are balled up in a fist ready to punch anything in my way. Max saved her. Why didn't I. I'm mad at myself. I could have been the one. Of course I was afraid. So I'm just the guy that makes out with her best friend and leaves. I don't know why I did. She was there. I was alone. I wanted her. But she wasn't there. Maria was. She probably thinks I'm nothing. I don't blame her, but then, she was there. When I was sick she joined the circle. But it was for Max and not me. I know it but I just want to feel that she did it for me.
She stands there in her red tank and bellbottomed jeans, laughing and smiling, leaning against her locker while Max talks to her. How I wish I could just push Max out of the way and let her see me. But I can't and for obvious reasons. Max is the leader and he gets what he wants. I go for it. Without thinking. Why am I thinking now? Why can't I just go for it? Do what I think is right and not hold back. I think I know why. It because it's her. I read her journal. It was filled with things about us, about him, about me, but not as much as him. He stands there with his cocky smile. She smiles at him. I feel myself tighten as I see his hand soon wrap around her waist. I can't take it anymore.
I walk away. Then again that's what I'm good at. Walking, running away. I've done it so many times before. I need to interrupt them. It's the only pleasure I get during the day. Interrupting them, that way he can't get what he wants, but neither can she and that thought always brings me down. I want her to be happy, but why does it have to be with him. I stand here and watch, as they lean in. As they kiss passionately. I hate it. I didn't interrupt this time. They both got what they wanted. Why did they have to do it in front of me? And when Maxwell knows. Both he and Isabel know and yet he smothers it in my face. I hate him.
"Maxwell, I need to talk to you," I say as I walk over to them after they're done. He turns and smiles at me. She looks down. I look straight ahead and I don't acknowledge her.
"Ok, but make it quick," he says. I walk over to the other side of the hall, where she can't here.
"Why do you do that?"
"Well, I know how much you hate it and I'm very surprised you didn't interrupt us like you do usually," he says with that cocky smile plastered on his face.
"I just wanted her to be happy. Never mind, why would you care," I say. He laughs. He laughs hard. Liz hears. She walks over. I turn away.
"What's so funny?" she says smiling. I looked into her eyes. They showed that she was happy.
"Nothing. See you later Maxwell," I say as I walk away. As I walk towards the door, I hear her say I love you. But she isn't saying it to me. She's saying it to him. I hurt more. I finally reach the door and I look back. I must have been dreaming because I see her pushing him away. I then realize they were just playing. I walk out into the parking lot. I get on my bike and drive home. I go into my room. My fits of rage come out here. I punch my wall and I kick. I'm kicking out fiercely at the world around me. I soon sick down in a corner and cry. I don't cry, for anyone but I do for her.
"Michael?" comes a voice from behind my door. It soon opens and she is standing there. I look up. My checks are moist from my tears, my eyes are red. I stand up and walk over to her. She begins to cry and I don't know why. She and I hold each other and soon sick back to the ground. Her head is buried in my shirt.
"What went wrong?" I ask while stroking her thick brown hair.
"Nothing, I just saw you," She says. I could only hope what that meant. And sure enough, it did. I held her head. She placed her hand on top of mine and stared at me, smiling.
Months later, I see her standing there, in her red tank and bellbottomed jeans. She's smiling at him and he's smiling at her. She's leaning against her locker. My hands are balled up in fists yet again. Rage, circulating through my blood. What I thought was true was nothing but a sick game, but I still love her. I can never deny that. I just want her to be happy. If she's happy with Max, then that's where she will be. I can't stop that. I soon see them kiss. I don't interrupt. I don't drag him away when they stop. I leave. I go home. I let out my rage. But I kick. I'm kicking yet again. Out fiercely at the world around me. And I ask myself, what went wrong. I keep kicking.
The End.