The Drama is Back (And Better Than Ever!)

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I slammed my locker shut as I grabbed my books for the next class, revealing a curly haired boy with dimples. I groaned.

"Ellie," Blake said, chasing behind me as I stalked down the hall, "Can we please talk?"

I ignored him, continuing down my path. He was the last person I wanted to talk to.

I'd been thinking a lot about Ben's letter, his reminder to love myself unconditionally. He was right. I was so used to looking for guidance and acceptance from others in order to justify my own self love. In other words, I'd grown accustomed to loving myself only when others did. That left me vulnerable. When Mom stopped talking to me and Jackie and I grew apart, when Bella left to be friends with Ingrid, I found those things hitting a place in my heart. Seeing them leave or pull away made me feel less worthy of love, and I was sick of it. I wanted to love myself. I was finally ready to love myself.

And Blake kept reminding me of everything I used to hate about myself.

I pushed past him, picking up speed. If, by any chance, I did let him in, there was no saying he wouldn't hurt me again. Leaving myself vulnerable to him wasn't worth it. I was sick, so sick, of trusting him. The feeling of his lips against mine brought me to life and made me sick at the same time.

"Ellie, Please!" He called out after me as I slipped into my classroom, easily escaping him once again. The late bell rang, and I let out a sigh of relief.

Saved by the bell.

***

"Are you going to eat your pickle?"

"Ew, no. That's the worst part. I left it on the side for a reason."

"Here, give it to me-"

"-NO! I don't want your grubby hands all over my lunch tray!"

I watched as Bella and Sydney playfully fought over food like sisters. Seeing them warm up to each other made me happy. It finally felt like our friend group was getting back to normal, and I could sleep in peace knowing that my two best friends were back on good terms.

As I smiled at Sydney, I noticed a tall blonde boy approaching behind her. My smile fell as I realized what was about to happen.

"Ok, guys, don't freak out, and don't turn around, but I think-"

"Bella. Can I talk to you?"

Bella and Sydney both turned to find Shawn standing behind them. Sydney dropped the pickle in her hand.

"What are you doing here, Shawn?" Bella asked, her gaze dropping to Sydney's. She had just begun to win back her best friend, and Shawn was back to ruin it all over again.

He narrowed his eyes. "Bella? Can we talk in private?"

Bella looked away. Shawn, still desperate, took a step closer. "Bella."

"No," She said quickly, shaking her head. "I don't have anything to say to you."

Shawn looked back at the three of us, shaking his head in disgust. "Fine. Hang out with these two freaks if you want." He laughed, staring down Sydney as he backed away. It was then that I realized how pathetic he was- still trying to fight for some kind of power after knowing he'd lost.

"You deserve them, anyways. You know, you-" He pointed to Bella, then turned to Sydney, "-And you, are just the same. A pair of stuck up pretentious bitches. You think you're better than me?Please. I was ready to drop you after a week. Just a bunch of prudes, you three."

He turned to Sydney again, pointing a nasty finger directly into her face. I watched as his face transformed into a sour expression. 

"You're just a little-"

Before he could finish his sentence, something flashed in front of him, pushing him down. IN one fell swoop, Kyle tackled Shawn to the ground, throwing a strong punch.

Sydney, Bella, and I watched in awe as Kyle stood up, wiping his face. Shawn writhed on the ground, moaning in pain.

"I don't know what he was about to say," Kyle said with a deep breath, "But I didn't want to hear it."

Sydney smiled, and then she was laughing, and then all four of us were laughing.

"Kyle Ross!" A voice called out from the end of the cafeteria. "Principal's office!"

***

I was heading home, the memory of Kyle's quick save still fresh in my mind. As I walked past the football field, a voice called out to me.

"Ellie!"

No. I turned on my heel, quickly heading in the opposite direction. Before I could reach the fence at the end of the field, Blake stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

He was still in football uniform, and he stared down at me from his bulky shoulder pads as his helmet dangled from his fingers. He sighed.

"Can we just talk? Just for a minute?"

Before I could answer, he grabbed my hand, dragging me to the bleachers. He placed me on a bench, and stood in front of me.

"Look," He said, running a hand through his hair, "I've been thinking a lot. About everything. You were right, before. The things I did to you before you left, they had more to do with me than with you. And I'm sorry I got you involved. If I'm being honest, I've been... confused... for a long time..."

I opened my mouth to say something, but Blake cut me off.

"Wait. Listen. What I'm trying to say is... I'm not really sure of anything right now. But if there's one thing I am sure of, it's that, when I kissed you, I felt something. Something real. Nothing was fake with you, Ellie. Nothing. You have to believe me."

"I'm not sure what to believe anymore."

"All I'm asking for is a second chance."

I turned to him, still unsure. My biggest fear was that I'd forgive him, give him another chance, and he's hurt me all over again. I didn't want that. I realized I had to make a choice. And this time, I had to choose myself.

"Are you gay?"

Blake hesitated. "No. I don't know."

I nodded. "...Are you... Do you love Julian?"

At this, Blake, paused. I saw a flash of something in his eyes. A moment of vulnerability. 

"...I don't know."

I pressed my lips into a tight smile. "I'm not ready to choose someone who doesn't know if they want to choose me."

Blake said nothing.

"I think you need to talk to Julian."

"Wait, Ellie-"

"Ellie!" A voice called out, cutting off Blake. I turned, surprised at the voice I heard. As Blake reached out for my hand, trying to pull me back, I pulled away. Staring out over the fence, I saw it.

There, at the end of the field, a red truck parked on the side of the road. A boy stood in the grass next to it, waving to me.

Ben.


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