How To Destroy Your Ex

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 2 (v.1)

Submitted: March 29, 2014

Reads: 138

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Submitted: March 29, 2014



To say that living across the street from your ex-boyfriend is hard, happens to be a complete understatement.

You literally can't escape seeing one another and our families constantly being together didn't help. No one seemed to accept the fact that Kyle and I were over, not even Kyle, who would continuously try to be all buddy-buddy with me. My parents were either oblivious to the cold shoulder I constantly gave him or thought we were in some minor lovers tiff, when in reality, we were completely over. 

If I said that I didn't bring other guys over to try and prove my point of singularity, I would be lying; almost every get together we went to, I would bring a guy, a fresh piece of man candy to try and drive Kyle away.

Eventually, Kyle took the hint; the once bright, happy, loving smiles were no longer directed at me. It angered me at first, how he could go from loving and caring to a complete jerk. I never quite realized that I had done the exact same thing to him; I shut him out, was rude and even had the indecency to invite guys over to events at his house.

He began having girls over frequently, and although i'd like to believe they were a rebound, I knew they weren't. I knew I had been forgotten, replaced. The small bit's of time I had to share with Kyle were not replaced with leggy girls streaming from his house. We all knew why they were there, we all knew what happened in his house, I knew why Michelle Heusen sent me remorseful looks, something her son would never do.

I buried myself even farther into my studies and popularity. Kyle wasn't in my social group anymore, his alliance was now with the jocks.

He wasn't mine anymore, he didn't fit into my life.




Being popular isn't easy; your hair needed to be frizz-less, your face made up perfectly and your outfit almost fresh off the runway. 

My sister, Ellie, had majored in Fashion Design in college and her made her way up the totem pole from an intern at Vogue to one of the top dogs, leading the company even farther up the charts. With her intense taste for fashion, I had never been able to leave the house looking like anything less than a four. Over the years I had grown accustomed to how Ellie chose her outfits and added a quirky accent of jewelry to complete her look.

Now, picking out an outfit for the first day back after Spring Break was nothing but a quick flick of my wrist and a few jumbled thoughts of what type of shoe to wear.

I shuffled through my closet, humming along to a one of my favorite pieces by Mozart. Carefully plucking a long black skirt from it's hanger, I held it to my waist, debating on the SoHo look and the type of hairstyle I would need to create to give myself a sort of girlish yet fierce physique. With my now tan complexion and blonde tresses, I knew that the SoHo look would work for me. A midriff showing blouse, preferably a patterned one with one of my many denim jackets and some chunky jewelry would fit the look to a 't'.

Content with my outfit for the morning, I decided to gather up my school supplies and stuff it into my child-sized backpack, making sure to not crush the brand new Eos lip balm I had just purchased earlier today. 

My parents were big on Ivy League schools, most of which I had applied for previous to the beginning of Senior year; Ivy League meant great grades, something which I had plenty of. Jefferson was different from many of the neighboring schools because of our academic success; it wasn't unusual to find a large chunk of the student body with books, whether for studying or pleasure, in hand.

The normal cliche of having stereotyped groups was something Jefferson students did not take part of; we were, for the most part, friendly towards our peers, we had no cliche of slutty cheerleaders or bitchy popular's, there was acceptance at Jefferson for all types of people. 

In all, Springbrook was a nice place to live. There were sporting events almost ever Friday night, whether they were scrimmages between our junior varsity and varsity teams or neighboring counties. Our local movie theaters were in the town center and usually played current films, sometimes showing old black and white films every other Saturday as a special treat for the older residents. 

Ellie, though, couldn't wait to go to college, to move far away from her hometown and now lived with her boyfriend of five years, Marc, in New York; coming to visit only on important holidays or celebrations. 

Placing my bag on the hanging Bubble chair in the corner of the room, I turned back to face the closet. In all honesty, I had more clothes than I needed; growing up with an Entrepreneur for a father that gave his two daughters whatever they wanted, was every girls dream, until they had the clothes to sort through. It was called Spring Cleaning for a reason, and although I had never taken part in it before, I knew that this year, many of the unworn, designer labels would be donated to Goodwill. 

There was a knock on the window behind me. 

I turned, curious to who would be at my window this late at night. Complete blackness stared back at me, taunting me to open the window. Nervously, I made my way over to it, watching it carefully for any sign of movement from beyond it.

Another knock sounded on the window.

I jumped in nervousness before slowly opening the window. "Hello?" My voice was quiet, scared.

"Nik, move." Kyle's said in a hushed whisper, his face now looming over mine as he tried to get in. "I said move!"

I shook my head, blocking him from climbing through the window. "What the hell are you doing, Kyle?"

He sighed, looking down at the ground. "Dad came home and found Chelsea and I." Kyle looked up at me, a puppy dog look on his face. "I've never seen him so pissed off before."

"Nice move, dumb-ass." I rolled my eyes. "Go home."

"You suck." He glared at me, his hands still perched on the windowsill, ready to hoist himself in at any moment. 

I shrugged. And here we have typical Kyle, hiding from his problems. I truthfully couldn't figure out how we became friends in the first place. Yes, our families were close, but besides that, there was nothing about us that was similar in any shape, way, or form. Our friendship had never been something that I questioned until this moment, I had never wondered if maybe being friends had been enough and neither of us had shown signs of wanting more but had assumed that we needed each other as something more than just friends.

"It's not my fault you're stupid. Now if you'd excuse me, I have some things to do before school tomorrow and they do not, involve you." I gently brushed his hand from the sill before slamming the window shut and locking it, sticking my tongue out in a cocky victory. 



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