She Was a Friend | Teen Ink

She Was a Friend

May 3, 2015
By Anonymous

“Brandon, didn’t you have a fun night?” Jennifer asks me, my charcoal Valentino tux jacket around her shoulders. We were alone on the sidewalk after our senior prom; it was quiet besides the clacking from Jennifer’s dandelion shoes by Jimmy Choo. Her Le Gala dandelion dress attracted enough attention tonight to drive me nuts. The gloss on her lips and the blonde curls in her hair made me smile when I first saw her, but the rest of the night drove me insane.
“Sure.” I reply, looking down at my Louis Vuitton dress shoes that my father gave me. My dandelion bow tie around my neck. I actually enjoyed how nicely I was dressed, picking charcoal to match Jennifer was such a great idea. I love my yel-dandelion  tie against my black vest with my charcoal pants, all supplied by the genius mind of Valentino Garavani.
“Honestly, did you have a good time?” she asked again, tugging on my arm. Her blue eyes trying to match mine. Avoiding eye contact with her, I look at her bare feet with blue toe nail paint.
“Yea, I did.” I told her half heartedly. Despite learning how to dance, and being the richest b------ at the dance, Jenny almost paid no attention to me at the prom. Also, I definitely was the best looking guy there. Everyone else was wearing black tuxes, but mine was the sole charcoal one there. I stood out amongst all the boys, and I felt like everyone was complimenting me on my tux, besides Jennifer.
I did not have a good time…
Jennifer gives me a pouty look, “Well, I had a fun night.”
“I’m sure you did.” I just want to go back to my house with Jennifer and relax. I’m tired, annoyed, and frustrated. And there’s a nice documentary on ants that I want to watch. My Audemars Piguet watch suddenly feels heavy on my left wrist. The time reads 12:27 A.M.
“Let’s just go back to my house; my parents said we can relax there after the dance. Also, there’s a cool documentary on ants that I have recorded.” I tell her, even though she annoyed the h--- out of me tonight.
“Brandon,” she says, “I want to, I really do. But there’s a party I want to go to.”  This annoys me, obviously. My teeth habitually grit themselves; I feel my teeth grind against each other. I was actually incapable of forming words.
“Bu… But... This is our night” is all that comes out of my mouth. Those words felt incredibly awkward. She gives me a weird look that I don’t understand. Looking around, she spots an oncoming cab and hails it.
“I’ve got to go,” she says. The cab pulls alongside the sidewalk, and I feel like time is running out. This is my senior prom night, this is about what I want to do, and I invited her. How rude? How can she be so blatantly mean to me? To me, the nicest guy she’ll ever meet. I completely respect this girl, any other guys would try to sleep with her because of their dumb animal like nature. But no, not me. I’m one of the good ones;h---, I’m probably going to be extremely successful as well. Why am I thinking so far into the future anyway? I realize that I would marry this dumb girl even though she hurts me so much. I mean, she is the only girl whom I have a deep connection with.
I exhale. I didn’t want to test it with this but whatever. I want to know for sure if my relationship with this girl is coming to an end. Because honestly, I don’t want to end it. I felt the slight trickle of rain from the cloudy night.
“Thanks, Brandon, for a wonderful night.” She kisses me on the cheek. I try to kiss her on the mouth but she turns away. That’s it, the first time she’s done that. We spent these last three years kissing, why is it different now? But that’s a rhetorical question, I know why. That’s when I realize that girls love tearing out your heart. The rain picks up a bit more.
“Goodnight, I love you,” I mutter. She smiles and gets into the cab. She looks at her phone and tells the driver an address, an address that I make sure to remember.
“Bye, Brandon. I love you too.” She closes the door and the cab rolls away. My jacket is still on her shoulders.



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