“Your…your GIRLFRIEND?!” Carolyn choked out, horrified. She steadied herself on a nearby chair, her entire body quivering with fury. “What happened to US?” she screamed. “Do I mean NOTHING to you?!”
Milbert hung his head in shame. “I suppose I should have told you about her sooner.”
Carolyn suddenly burst out laughing—a wild, psychotic laugh. “You suppose you should have told me sooner. Is that all you have to say for yourself??”
“Carolyn, I’m sorry. When we signed our contract, I never imagined you would develop real feelings for me. I thought you understood that we were just helping each other out. I was helping you with your grades, and you were helping me with my social status.”
Carolyn felt herself sink to the floor in a crumpled heap, clutching the stabbing pain in her chest. It was almost as if her heart was literally breaking in two. The one guy she thought was different had just turned out to be the same as all the rest. “How could you do this to me?” she whispered, finding herself unable to scream or even talk at a normal level anymore.
“Please, just let me explain!” Milbert protested. “I’ve been seeing Bertha outside of school for quite some time now. But she doesn’t go to our school anymore—she goes to an all-girls school about 20 miles away. I just missed having a girlfriend I could see every day. So you were my pretend girlfriend. Look, Bertha is my first love. That’s where my heart is—“
“Stop! STOP!!” She screamed, covering her ears. “I don’t want to hear this! I don’t want to hear it because I thought it was ME! I thought it was ME you loved!!” Carolyn couldn’t take any more of this. She yanked Milbert’s front door open and ran down the street, nearly blinded by her tears. She ran all the way around the block to the Gas-n-Go parking lot where she had hidden her car. Some guy on his way into the gas station asked if she was OK. “No, I’m not OK, I’ll NEVER BE FREAKING OK AGAIN!!” She wanted to scream, but she couldn’t find the words. All she could do was jump into her car and speed off.
By the time she got home that night, Carolyn had managed to compose herself somewhat. Her parents were home, and the last thing she needed was a nosy mother asking her what was wrong. When she opened the door, the first thing she noticed was spaghetti and meatballs waiting on the table—her favorite meal. But she couldn’t eat. The sight of food made her sick. “I don’t feel too good mom,” she said hoarsely. “I’m just going to go upstairs and lie down.”
As she crawled weakly into her bed, Carolyn realized she was exhausted. All she wanted to do was sleep. But every time she closed her eyes, the image of Milbert and Bertha holding hands at the library popped into her head. Crying again now, she tossed and turned violently for the next three hours. Finally, she got out of bed, realizing there was no way she was going to sleep tonight. She crept out into the hallway, relieved to find that everyone else had gone to sleep, and headed downstairs for a glass of water. As she made her way to the kitchen, she stopped and eyed her dad’s huge collection of guns. He had been president of the Gun Club for a few years now. “Good ol’ Daddy Dearest. He always did care more about those stupid guns than his own family,” she thought bitterly, sliding open one of the heavy glass doors. She picked up a small hand gun and gently traced her finger along the barrel. As she stared at the gun, a sick idea began to form in her head. It was something she didn’t want to do. But she was beginning to feel she had to. “If I can’t have you, Milbert,” she thought darkly, “…nobody can.”
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