Cassie

3

Cassie

 

 

As soon as I finished up washing the dishes, I ran up to my room and threw my hair up messily.

Today sucked.

I plugged my Phone into the speakers and hit The Ronettes. They’re my go to band when things get a little bit, weird with me. See I like the old types of music, but only when I have to. Some people have food to turn to, some people have their friends or their mom, but I have The Ronettes.

I hummed along with the song and stared myself down in the mirror in utter disgust.

As I looked, I let the usual comments flow through my head, “Too many freckles” and “Too big of ears” and “Too frizzy hair” I kept criticizing and humming, but by now I started whispering the insults to myself, “Your skin is too pale, Your nose is too small, Your legs are too long.” I could go on for ages.

But I stop myself. I don’t want to make things as worse than they already are so I turn my music up and take a deep breath. I grab my laptop from my book bag and hop onto my bed. I open up the tab titled “Skype” and listen to the audio click that was played in the beginning, I see the familiar smiles of my Internet friends pop up on my contact list and click Erik’s name.

I talk to him for a few minutes over the chat box and then tell him I’ll video chat him in a few minutes. Even though I know we’re not dating or anything, nor do I even like him all that much in that way, he’s still pretty attractive and I want to look good for him.

So I take my bun out and brush my hair out a little bit, I fix up my makeup that was sloppily done this morning. “I guess that’s as good as it’s going to get.” I sighed.

I jumped back onto my bed and hit the call button. A few seconds later, his precious face filled my screen and I felt that every second of despair I was feeling a few minutes ago, all in just a second vanished at the sight of this boy’s face.

“Well, well, well. Who do we have here, Ms. Marie.” I can hear the British tone in his accent and it really only makes me want to be with him, in London even more desperately.

“Hello there Erik James.” I’m trying to hide my affection for him as best as I can. It’s really not all that easy. It’s kind of like when someone tells you that you’re allergic to chocolate cake and you are never allowed to eat it ever again, and you think to yourself, this won’t be hard, I can live without cake! But then you come home one day and you can just smell that chocolate cake, and you can almost taste the gooey, sweet chunks of the warm cake in your mouth. And you can feel yourself drooling over it and you run yourself to the kitchen, the cake is sitting there nice and thick and frosted, and you’ve got a plate and fork ready but then you’ve realized, you can’t eat this cake. I mean who knows what will happen!

“So how many people did you turn into a toad today Missy.”  He always makes stupid little remarks like that, almost as if he knows how horrible my day has gone.

“Well let’s see,” I held up my fingers and began to randomly mutter some names acting as if I’m counting all the toads. “Well only three in biology, I imagine we’ll be dissecting those guys soon, and around five from math, and about ten people I saw that just annoyed me in the hall. I’d say I did pretty well today!”

He giggled. Oh God how I love to hear his giggles. And his little dimple kind of just pops out of nowhere.

“You’re friends are lucky I don’t go to your school! From the way you described them, I’d be turning everybody into toads!” Well, the thing is about my school is that not everybody is really all that bad, I mean most of the time I’m pretty sure it’s me who’s the annoying one. But everybody at my school are just so boring! I can’t help but put them in the category labeled, “Idiots” mostly because I just have higher standards for everybody except for myself apparently. So I guess you could say I regret telling Erik that everybody sucks, I mean, he would probably love everyone, there! But that’s just the type of person that he is, loving and sweet and he just seems to care for every minuscule detail about everything even though none of what I ever have to say even slightly actually matters, let alone makes sense.

Just with the thought of how outstanding he is, “You’re so amazing you know that?” Why. Why. Why.

What is wrong with me! I feel like I was just ran over by a bus.

My stomach starts turning and those weird butterflies come back. I hate this feeling. Not only is it addicting, but it’s sickening. It’s like an inevitable drug that always come back whenever I talk to him, flowing through my veins making my heart beat violently, and my stomach to go entirely numb.   

“So are you Cassie.”
Oh God. I think I might faint. This is too much for my body to handle. He’s too much for my body to handle! I have never even see Erik face to face! I don’t even know the little things about him yet, what he sounds like when he first wakes up, or what he smells like when he’s fresh out of the shower, how he would hold my hand when we’re in public, or what he drinks in the morning. And I still find myself falling for this boy.

So weird. I know I’m not like this normally! I mean, I’ve never been a sucker for love. It seems tacky to me, like what’s the point? You spend all of your time with this one person, you open up your heart to them, and you share your every thought to theirs, and for what? The majority of the time you end up getting tired of this person, or they’ll find someone better, and there’s even a chance that you could find someone better, but you sit there and think to yourself that you’ll be with them until the day you die. In reality, you’re lying to yourself. Love is just one big fat and juicy lie. And yet we all fall into its trap.

And so I remain to sit here and glare at his dreamy face on my screen. Wondering how I’ve fallen so deep into his love trap.

“Cassie, are you doing okay?”

I regret that question so much. I wish he hadn’t asked.

“No. No I’m not okay. But somehow you’re making me feel better already.”  

That’s an alright answer, right?

“What can I do to make you feel better Ms. Marie!”

I could feel myself blushing.

“You could come up to my house, then run up to my room.” Should I say it? “And cuddle with me.”

I couldn’t read his face, have I gone too far this time?

“I would absolutely love to cuddle with you. I would just wrap my arms around your waist and hold your little body to mine.”

I think now I understand how people can go so psychotic from their husband leaving them. I think I might just go crazy without Erik. But I also think I’m going a little crazy with him here. There’s no escaping this trap.