Alexander Walters
"Alex, you're a big mess up," Beckham commented as I missed yet another opportunity to make a score in our football game. Beckham had come over as I hadn't had enough time to spend with the group in a while, so he decided to come check up on me. We were playing video games. Well, he was playing video games; my mind was pretty much occupied with other things.
Or rather, with someone.
And how I was actually a big mess up, not just in the game, but in the plan I promised myself I was going to go through with yesterday.
On my way to Katherine's apartment, I told myself I would break up with her and that's exactly what I wanted to do. I followed through with the plan up until the moment she opened the door and I saw her in that cute top and that hideous eyeliner stain all over her face.
My heart melted.
She had her hair up, and I made a mental note to remember how her face was more defined and the blue glint in her eyes was more prominent. And her top was beautiful, it showed her off nicely and the stains on her face made her look so fucking cute as well, and funny too.
At that moment, I dropped every inhibition I had to call off things with her at the doorstep and entered her house. We laughed—God, we laughed so much—we made dinner together and watched a movie. She fell asleep in my arms, and I had to take her to the bedroom and tuck her into bed.
Then I left. The moment I stepped out, my inhibition returned and I was in deep regret as to why I wasn't able to end things with her. And now, she occupies my mind, all of it, with a force that couldn't be reckoned with.
Everything about her replays in my memory; her smile, her voice, the way she walks, and the way she fucking looks at me with those mesmerism eyes of hers.
Damn.
"...Alex, Alex. Bro?" Beckham's calls invaded my thoughts and I was brought back to reality.
"What's up?"
"You stopped playing man. Like just suddenly stopped and started staring into space. Is something going on that I don't know about?" Beckham questioned, placing his controller on the couch. I sighed and dropped mine as well—I was done with the game, I was losing by four points anyways.
I contemplated whether or not I should tell Beckham about what was going on but I ultimately decided against it. I had told him and my other friends that I was only doing this to play Katherine and if I tell him that the girl now sits on a throne in my brain, he'll scorn me to death.
Even though Beckham is the most reasonable out of all my friends, I still felt that I should keep my problems to myself. He won't understand. They'll never understand.
"It's nothing man, I'm not just in a good mood to play games." I dismissed him, but now that I think about it, I actually meant that game–wise and Katherine–wise.
"Well, I know something that would put you in a good mood," Beckham suggested and I swear, if he says something about going drinking, going partying, or bringing some girls over, I will—
"Samantha's face!" Beckham burst into a fit of laughter and I stared at him confusedly. What did her face have to do with anything now?
Was this a sick joke?
"What are you talking about?" I inquired with furrowed brows.
"Just hold on, man," Beckham said and brought out his phone from his jeans pockets and swiped about it before bringing it to my face.
I couldn't believe my eyes, what was on his screen was fucking hilarious!
"Bro, is that Sam? Why does her lips look…inflated?" I questioned as Beckham kept swiping across her pictures and it was just slide after slide of pure ridiculousness.
"She got fillers. Lip fillers or whatever they call 'em." Beckham answered and took his phone away from my face. I couldn't contain my laughter at all, it was just too funny.
"Well, does she know she looks like this? How does she feel walking around with a literal destruction on her face?" I questioned, trying to catch my breath from so much laughing.
Beckham was laughing along too, "Someone should tell her she looks like she's carrying a fucking trailer on her lips— on second thoughts, I should really comment on that." He took out his phone again and began typing on it.
I wanted to stop him; for some reason, I felt guilty that he was about to bully her, even though he was truly right about a massive trailer sitting on her face as an excuse for her lips. And that's weird, I never feel guilty during things like this, it's what we do, we…bully girls.
Well, I never thought of it as bullying before, but now that I reflect on it, it really is bullying. I chose to remain quiet and let Beckham do this thing, but that doesn't mean I was comfortable with it.
"Oh boy, check out the comments!" Beckham brought the phone to my view again and began scrolling down the comment section. "A lot of people are saying she got them because of you. They're saying you like girls with fuller lips because you've been hanging about with little–miss–boring. Well, she's not that boring anymore, she actually dresses her age now and I have to admit, she's one hella fine-ass lady. What did you say to her that got her to change?"
"I simply told her to." I rose up from the couch. Like I said, I don't like discussing Katherine with my friends because it would always bring them to ask if—
"You fucked her yet?"
I stared at Beckham, he was concentrating on his phone but when he saw I hadn't answered, he looked up at me.
"Well?"
"I haven't yet," I answered honestly.
"Bro, what the fuck? How haven't you gotten into her pants yet? How hard can a nerd be? Maybe you've lost your touch. If she's too difficult for you then let me or Nathan—"
"Don't you dare complete that statement, Beckham?" I don't know why I instantly got so defensive. He stared at me with surprise at my tone and the fact that I had just yelled at him because of Katherine.
"Bro, are you sure you haven't fallen in love with this chic?"
If I could answer that question, I would've done that long ago. That same question rings in my head as often as Katherine's smile does.
Am I in love with her?
I really don't know. People may think I am. If not, why would I have arranged a vacation to Cape Cod Island, Massachusetts during the weekend so I can relax and have fun with her?
I've actually been planning this for about, two weeks now. But I haven't been able to tell her yet. Why? Because I don't know if she'd accept. A weekend beach date may be overwhelming for her and I'm scared of rejection or something coming up and ruining it.
All our planned dates have been ruined by one thing or the other.
The moment Katherine's name is said, it activates a rhythm that tugs my heart's strings. Two weeks ago, I sat in front of my computer and booked a thousand of dollars worth weekend beach dates for a girl I was supposed to have been done with weeks ago, a girl I was supposed to play with and break her heart in the most brutal way possible.
But I did the exact opposite.
It was in that second I knew that I was already far gone and turning back at this point, maybe too late.