PAINTED LOVE

EIGHT

sebastian hayes

.  .  .  .  .  .

I'm fucking this up. I'm fucking everything between me and Loïse up. She and I had become friends overtime and I'm fucking up our friendship by feeling sparkles everytime I kiss her. 

I'm not in love with her. Yet, at least. 

But I don't think she's just one of my regular friends anymore. Last night at Mc Donald's. Everything I said, it screwed everything up. 

I accused her of having a fucking eating disorder. I started yelling at her until she actually broke down in sobs and tears and cries because of my words. And what I said to her. 

Of course she wants to be just like June. She thinks I don't notice her smiling at the girl everytime she's talking, like she's a fan of her. Of course she's self-concious because of June, I should've goddamn known that. But instead, I shouted at her, made her cry again - not just cry, sob until she couldn't breath anymore. 

The 6 nuggets did it for me. I already had noticed she was having some trouble with accepting that she didn't have the flat, super skinny body her friends have. I know, because everytime she's over at my house for a physics class, she doesn't want to accept any popcorn, chips or any goddamn snack I ever offer her. All she drinks is fucking water. 

She loses her concentration so goddamn quickly when I'm trying to explain anything to her about physics. After 10 minutes, she's already dreaming away and not listening anymore and saying she's feeling a bit dizzy. 

But last night was different. It confirmed, to me, that something really is going on. She doesn't really have an eating disorder, but she does watch what she eats way too much. She doesn't really check calories, for all I know, but everytime I want to meet up with her for revising physics, she's going on runs with Luna, or going to the gym. 

So, yeah. Those fucking nuggets made me mad. I was so fucking delighted to see her eat half of my dinner after the breakdown. Her stomach grumbled, with my hand on her belly, and I almost exploded again. 

I'm still thinking about her when some annoying bastard shoots away the puck in front of me. Shit, I should've forseen that. Yet I didn't, because my mind's on Loïse and not on hockey. It's the last 20 minutes of the game and those Yale-fuckers already scored 2 points. Elias scored one, the shot I was supposed to shoot but he must have seen something was off with me today. Luckily, he didn't ask me about anything yet and he probably will not ask anytime soon.

Greyson, the Yale-player who stole my fucking puck, is striding towards the goal. He skates away from our freshman-defenseman, which isn't even hard and then proceeds to shoot it at the goal. 

Luckily, Jayden is able to catch the puck before it hits the net of our goal. 

I almost want to kiss him. He doesn't really look like he's about to kiss me, though. 

"Hey, fucker! Watch your fucking puck! We're already losing this match, you don't gotta be thinking about fucking Janette right now!"

Janette. Does he really think I've got feelings for some mainstream sorority girl like Janette? 

I almost want to throw him into the glass before I change my mind and instead, I say: 
"I'm not fucking thinking about Janette! Yeah, you caught that puck, great, you want a kiss from your mommy now?! Come kiss my ass instead!"

He gives me the finger and proceeds to skate back off. 

The last minutes pass by quickly. I proceed to score one more time, a shit shot. Our freshman could've made that so I'm not expecting to get praised for it by coach or my team mates. I'm playing like shit today.