So, I decided to continue this after all. It kinda bothered me that I didn't properly end it, but if you liked it better as a one-shot, just don't read this haha. Anyhow, please review and let me know what you think, because the next chapter will be in Carly's point of view, although you guys don't seem to be diggin' her very much in this story.
It's strange how it goes, when nobody knows you're not alive.
"You don't have to do this," I mutter, using my hand to shield my eyes from the assault of sunlight pouring in through the open blinds. I'm admittedly experiencing a slight hangover, but it really isn't too bad, mostly because I'm immune thanks to the alcoholic genes my mother passed onto me, and also because it's not like I've been out binge drinking – I still have to work to pay for this apartment and for my classes at the community college.
"Sam, we've been best friends for years, I can't just let you sink into depression. I'm here for you," Freddie says, which is amazing because if I were him I'd still be more than bitter about Big Bad Sam coming around and stealing his girl's heart. He turns back to the stove and puts on some bacon. The sizzling sound triggers my stomach into involuntary complaints of hunger. "Plus, I could use a little time away from my mom," he adds and I can't hold back my grin. I do, however, restrain myself from insulting him because right now he controls my future bacon.
"I really appreciate this," I mumble, slouching down into a seat around the small kitchen table. "It's nice not being alone," I nearly whisper, and I can't stop the thickness that creeps into my voice even as I try not to get emotional.
"I understand. What Carly did – I mean, she's my friend, but that was a really terrible thing that happened. I'm all for going to a good school, but some warning at the very least would be nice."
I nod, not wanting to continue the direction of this conversation. It hurt enough without having to talk about it. Freddie walks over to me with a plate of toast, two sunny-side-up eggs and a pile of bacon on it arranged in a smiley face with bacon-hair – it was true artwork. My face lights up instantly as I eye the food. I begin to eat as soon as he sets it down in front of me, not having eaten a real meal since Carly moved out a little over two weeks ago.
Sixteen days, I think to myself, because no matter how hard I try, I can't stop counting.
"Thank you," I manage to say between mouthfuls of food. Once I devour half the plate of food, I slow down considerably, feeling that I owe Freddie a few words. "I appreciate everything that you've done. I know that I've always been the one to tease you, beat you up and steal the girl of your dreams, but I'm glad that we're friends. I owe you so much," I say, looking him in the eyes as he sits down opposite to me with his own plate of food.
He doesn't say anything for a little while, but then a slow smile overtakes his face. "I knew you never really hated me!" he says in an accusing voice, pointing his finger at me.
"Shut up!" I bark, but I can't keep the grin off of my face. "You still are, and always will be, a dork!"
"True. And you will always be Sam Puckett,"
"Damn straight," I say, leaning back in my chair, having already finished my meal. "I'll handle the dishes," I offer, not wanting to overwork my already generous savior of a friend.
.
"Sam, you don't have to help me pack," she says, leaning over her suitcase. I don't want to help her pack, but I can't stay away when I know that she's leaving.
"It's alright, I want to be a good friend. I know that leaving is hard on you, too," I say, but I know that for her, this is hardly something to bat an eyelash at. I've bawling my eyes out for the last week and she's been carrying on as she had before.
"You know you'll always be more than a friend to me," Carly insists, standing and taking a step towards where I was sitting on her bed folding a shirt.
Lies, lies, lies.
"It's fine," I say as she sits down next to me, placing a warm hand on my upper thigh.
"I hope you realize that I'm only leaving because it's what's best for us. When I'm done with school, maybe we can try again?" she tries to reason, but all I hear is a giant lie that she's trying to feed to me to make herself feel better; to justify her actions.
"Sounds like a plan," I mutter, putting the shirt into her suitcase, and when I look into her eyes, I find her leaning towards me. She kisses me slowly and pulls me down on top of her, and if this is the only thing I can do to show her how much I really love her, then so be it.
.
I blink awake and it's a quarter past midnight, meaning that I've been knocked out for about four hours. I draw a shivering naked Carly closer to me and pull the blanket up to her shoulders. I've been used; I know it, because no matter how good the sex is, I know that she won't be staying.
There's a stinging in the corner of my eyes as tears begin to spill freely down my face. How did it get to this point? I don't even want to know, really. All I want is for Carly to want me, and for her to stay. But, she won't.
Trying to ignore how absolutely filthy I feel, I close my eyes and drift back to sleep.
.
I wake up again and this time it's seven in the morning. The sunlight is bathing the room in an orange glow that caused a sort of uneasy comfort to wash over me. I blink a few times to help myself wake up and I notice an absence of warmth next to me.
Carly – along with all of her stuff – is gone.
Bolting from the bed, I look dash around our apartment, but she's nowhere in sight. There's a sticky note on the refrigerator. I rip it off and read it:
I'm sorry Sam, maybe one day we can be together.
She didn't even bother to wake me up. What could I ever have done to deserve to be treated this way? True, I'm not perfect, but I did everything that I could, and here is where it got me.
I drop to my knees in despair, tearing the note into shreds and gritting my teeth against my urge to scream. She's gone, and her flight doesn't even leave for two days.
.
I look down at my pruned hands in the sink and sigh. I guess I should probably refrain from zoning out when I do the dishes. I dry my hands and walk into my room. Closing the door behind me, I decide to go on SplashFace to see if anyone wanted to hang out with me and Freddie.
When I log in, I see a post from Carly, and it goes on about how great California is and how much fun she's having. One of our friends asks about how I was handling her move, and Carly's response was, 'she took it really well.'
I didn't take it 'well,' I did all I could, because she gave me no choice. I wish someone would wake me up from this nightmare, but I know that this is reality, and in reality, things hurt and good people get fucked.
My mom was right all along – there's no way to love and to not end up broken. I gave Carly Shay everything I had, and even things I had to work my ass off for, and here I am, breaking in two, regardless of how mercilessly I toiled, changing my habits, breaking my inborn vicious cycle to be a drug addicted criminal good-for-nothing, and shaping myself, all for a chance with her.
All hail the heartbreaker, because Carly Shay, you've broken my heart for the first and the last time.
I leave my room and walk into the living area where Freddie was watching some nerdy tech show. "Hey," I address him, grinning. "Let's go out and get smashed tonight!"