The Blond Arrow has no fucking clue what love is.
The pain in my gut jacks up and I almost grab the railing to keep myself standing. I need to get out of here. I need to get away from her and I will, in a second.
Because I remember something.
Something that I want to say to her.
“Oh, and one last thing.”
She goes alert.
“Your sister…” I pause and Sarah’s eyes turn malicious, leaving me to wonder if this is the first time she’s looked so ugly at the mention of her sister or has she always looked this way.
I wish I knew.
I wish I had noticed.
“What about her?”
“She’s a hell of a soccer player.”
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t think I’ve seen her kind of talent in a long time. But she thinks that you don’t appreciate it. You think that she’s wasting her time.”
“So?”
“So I suggest you watch your mouth when you talk about your sister. Because if you don’t, then I’ll have to give you a lesson on what being an asshole really means. And trust me, I’d love to do that. I’d love to make you understand what’s gotten into me.”
With that, I leave.
My chest burns with the pain, with something that I have no clue about.
I don’t know what it is. I don’t know how to curb it.
All I know is that I can’t breathe. The whole world is closing in.
I need to get out of here.
I need to get out of this fucking city.
I need to go the fuck back.
Ever since he went away and left me with a note, I’ve been thinking about Sarah.
A lot.
She said she’d be waiting for him when he came back.
Was she?
I bet she was.
She said that eight years’ worth of love is bigger than her one mistake. Honestly, I thought so too.
Until I found out about her mistake. About what she did to him.
To my Arrow.
I know he’s not mine but still.
Still, I’m so mad at her.
I mean, I’m not in her position, okay? I don’t know what went through her mind when she did what she did, when she slept with Ben.
But surely there was another way. A better way.
A better way than lying to the man you love and making him think that he failed, making him beat himself up like this.
So this past week I thought about it.
About the mistake she made and how angry I got over that, and how I still struggle to understand it and I wish I could call her.
I wish I could talk to her.
Because even though I never understood their relationship – I admit that now after that disastrous Friday dinner – I do understand something about making mistakes.
I’m in love with her ex-boyfriend.
I fell in love with him the exact same time she did.
Although I know now that I never would’ve done anything to hurt their relationship, it still wasn’t right.
You don’t do that to your own sister, and I’ll always be regretful of that.
Not of my love for Arrow but what he was and still is to my sister.
So maybe we should talk and figure things out.
Maybe. I don’t know.
I don’t know anything except that he’s gone and he might be getting back together with my sister.
Which is great because everything will be right in his world.
He won’t feel like a failure. All his anger will go away. He will be like the old Arrow, calm and collected, unruffled by anything around him.
So why do I wanna cry?
Why do I wanna dissolve in my sheets at night?
Why do I wanna tell him to never ever change? To be like this forever.
But that’s not all I want.
I also wanna tell him.
I wanna tell him that I love him, which is crazy. I went to great lengths to protect this secret. I was running away because of it.
I don’t know what I hope to accomplish by telling him because we’re completely opposite of each other.
He’s this great perfectionist who hates making mistakes and I’m anything but perfect. He has all these rules and I love breaking them. He’s a soccer superstar and up until recently, I hadn’t even played on an actual team. And even though I have this little dream of applying to the youth program for next summer, I’m still not a fit girlfriend for a celebrity athlete.
Besides, for all I know, he’s back together with Sarah and if my sister makes him happy, then so be it.
I’ll never stand in the way of his happiness.
At least it’s Friday and I’m out with the girls at Ballad of the Bards, and I don’t have to think about all these things.
Plus Miller has been particularly nasty to me all week so I really need a little break.
I’m not dressed up or anything though. I have my regular clothes on, my cargo pants and a simple t-shirt with my chunky sweater over it.