A/N: I'd hate for my loverly readers to lose interest, so I'm posting a sort of teaser chapter. Very short, less than a page, but it still affects what's going on. I'm going to start writing much more of Pretty Girl than I've been doing, and I hope you all will not murder me in my sleep for not updating. Also, thanks to the following people who have reviewed my story (several of you more than once):
MegTypeD, orange crush3, Sixela555, shaydra, Slayerwitch, EllieNSean4Eva, ssj-shark, Lavenderangel, bratgoddess88, amber-1134, Dense, Starry-Eyez888, Novicia, rollinx3, Goth-girl2, Sheena, Frito the Great, Avamaire, Veronica, Baddaboom95, smoothNcreamy, SHEENA, torian Princess, James, CoRoRST, TeenageStarlet, thelostmarble, and Obscured Illusions.
Also, thanks to my beta Firevega21. Everyone, go read Enchanted. And while you're at it, read Craving, by Romulus, because she's my sister and I've taken it upon myself to pimp her. Wow, this is long... anyway, enjoy.
She never tried to find me after what happened on the steps, and she never tried to apologize. I was the only one home when she called, and I was sitting on my bed with my English book in my lap.
"Ellie?"
"I don't want to talk to you," I said. I pulled up my sleeve and traced the cut. Traced the hurt.
"I know, and I'm sorry. What I did sucked," she said.
"It didn't just suck, Paige. You can never have any idea how much it sucked, because never has such a feeling of suck been experienced. Ever," I said.
"I know."
"No, you don't. Do you know the feeling you get when someone pulls out your heard and finds a way to turn it into glass just so they can throw it against a wall?" I asked.
"No."
"Then you'll never know how much it sucked. I don't really want to talk to you right now, okay?"
"Ellie, wait. I'm sorry. I promise I'll never do it again. I just... I just panicked. It'll never happen again," she said quickly. No. This wasn't happening. She couldn't be trying to get me back. I pressed down on my cut, and tingles of pain shot up my arm. I grabbed my English book and threw it across the room. I heard Paige flinch on the other end.
"How many times have you told me that, Paige? How many times?" I was yelling, thanking God that my parents weren't home, yelling, hurting, needing her, wanting her, and losing her all at the same fucking time.
"I said I was sorry!" Paige said.
"I don't care, Paige! I don't care how many times you say it, and I don't care what you want to do to be with me, and I don't care about you!"
The silence lasted a minutes, and then I started to cry. I choked it back until my throat hurt, and a soft sob came out. My entire body was shaking with it, and I wrapped my arms around my knees, still clutching the phone to my ear. I started to cry harder, struck with it. God. If we had ever been going out, we would have broken up already, and that was when I realized how much I need her.
The pale skin on my arm begged for attention, and the compass was lying on my bureau. I closed my eyes, wanted to drag it over my skin, wanted to hurt myself, wanted to break myself, want to do everything that she'd already done to me. I curled up in a ball under my sheets.
"I love you," I whispered.
