So Over It [completed, undergoing editing]

Christina: I can’t wait to come back to my hometown, Austin, Texas, to see my boyfriend, Matt.

Matt: I feel so guilty. She doesn’t know that I have a new girlfriend now… and I didn’t even tell her.

Christina: I’m heartbroken. I can’t believe he would do this to me. He cheated on me!

Matt: I miss her, more than anything.

Christina: I’m slowly healing. Maybe things will get better.

Matt: I’m just so confused.

Christina: I’m tired of wallowing around in misery and tears. I’m going to get revenge on this sleazy cheater, if it’s the last thing I do. I’ve got a hot guitar player, an amazing voice, a school dance to perform at, and the best girl-power-breakup song I’ve ever heard. Time to show him girls can be tough, too.

[A/N: WROTE THIS A LONG TIME AGO... SORRY IF IT'S BAD. IT'S UNDERGOING LOTS OF EDITING, BUT YOU CAN STILL READ IT. IT'S ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON A WEBSITE CALLED MISS LITERATI UNDER MY PEN NAME, KRISTY THOMAS. PLANNING TO SELF PUBLISH THIS SOON.]

*NOT A 1D STORY*

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25. Christina's POV

It was only a few minutes until the doorbell rang. I jumped up and race to the door, opening it. Standing there was Ariana. Not the confident, beautiful, sometimes cocky and catty Ariana I knew. Her face was soaked in tears and makeup as they streamed down her face like a waterfall. Her bottom lip was trembling, and her dress that she had picked out for the dance was ruined. The blue, silky fabric was now covered in a dark mud stain.

"H-hi, Chrissy," she sobbed.

"Ariana! What happened? I got your message. I'm really sorry... what-what happened to your dr--"

"I-I was walking to your house because my Beemer broke down the other day. I was getting into my dress so I would be ready for the Midsummer dance. A-and I was running, and there was a puddle on the side of the road. Some-some immature a**hole drove past me, kicking up a dirty splash that got all over my dressssss!" she wailed. "This is the worst summer... ever!" 

"Okay. Okay," I said, my heart aching for her. "Before you tell me anything more, I need you to calm down. Can you do that for me? Sit down." I patted the step next to me.

She nodded, panting, and she obeyed. She fanned her face, slowed her breath, and inhaled, held it for ten seconds, and exhaled.

"There. Do you feel calmer now?"

"Yeah," she admitted. She wiped her eyes, and makeup smeared across her face. "It's just... inside...," she put her hand to her heart.

"Yeah," I said softly. "I know what you mean." 

"I-I'm really sorry, you know, for the way I acted towards you a couple days ago. I didn't mean to... I mean... your arm, is it okay?"

"It's healing." I showed her my bruised and slightly bloodstained arm, which looked a bit better than earlier today. The swelling had gone down, but the bruise was turning purple and looking more defined. Did that mean it was getting better? I wondered. I wasn't sure.

"Oh," she said, crying even more, but just a little. "I didn't know I would hurt you that bad! I-I've become a monster!" She flung herself on me and sobbed onto my comfy green sweatshirt.

"You're not a monster," I tried to soothe her, stroking her bright red hair. My favorite sweatshirt was probably soaking wet now, but it was okay. At least it wasn't my new red dress. "You're just under a lot of stress."

"No, it's more than that," she took a shuddering breath and pulled away from me. "I-I accidentally spilled everything to my mom about what I did to your arm, and how I threatened you. I was just angry. She said that I had been acting out recently, lying to her, being verbally abusive, being isolated in my room, being unusually hyper. I even shoplifted a bracelet recently, from one of those really expensive stores at the mall. I didn't even think about it; I just did it.  She said she didn't even know who her daughter was anymore!" 

I stayed silent, nodding. I felt so bad for her; I didn't know what to say.

"A-and then... when we got home, my mom got on the computer. I pretended to be reading a magazine on the other side of the room, but I was actually spying on her. And-and what she typed in the Google box...," she broke into tears again. 

"What? What did she type?" I asked.

"She-she typed, ''Mental hospital treatment centers in Austin, Texas'!" Ariana placed her head in her hands and wept loudly.

My mom came from the kitchen, with two bowls of Cheez-it crackers in her hands. She glanced from Ariana to me, a questioning look in her eyes. I shook my head and smiled slightly, giving my mom a dismissive glance. She nodded understandingly, placed the crackers on a table near us, and left the room, giving us some privacy. Ariana was so busy blubbing I don't think she even heard my mom's footsteps come into the room.

"A-and then...," Ari regained her composure after a while. Kind of. "She took me to a restaurant. Chili's, it was called, or something like that. And then her cell rang, and she handed it to me. It turned out to be one of the therapists at this mental treatment center just a few miles from here. She told me that I had bipolar, most likely, and she'd like to see me as soon as possible, in the next couple of days. She wants to admit me to a stupid, crazy nuthouse! An asylum! Ugh!"

"But maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe you'll get help there?" I suggested, rather weakly. Amazingly, the pretty redheaded girl looked at me with thoughtful big brown eyes.

"You think so?" she asked. Her voice was gaining strength.

"Yeah. Maybe you'll learn different ways to deal with things. It's okay. There's still hope for you."

"I-I really WANT to change," she said softly, barely a whisper. She ran her fingers along the pure white carpeted steps. "I just don't know how. Whenever I try, I can't control it. I can't STOP it."

We sat in silence for a few minutes. I think just me being there, giving her strength, helped her slowly regain it. 

"Thanks for being here," she said after a while.

"No problem. Anytime. I mean it."

"Oh my gosh. Maybe I should just skip the dance. My dress is ruined...," she looked up at me. "You know, I didn't mean what I said at the mall the other day. I was threatened by you. I just felt--oh God, this is going to sound sooo superficial...," she laughed sadly and rubbed her temples.

"What?" I asked. "You can tell me."

"I was afraid. That... you'd get more attention than me." She flushed a crimson red and looked down at her now muddy high heeled shoes.

"You know what?" I declared. I took both her hands and smiled confidently at her. "We're going to make you beautiful."

Slowly, the light began to sparkle once more in her brown eyes. A smile spread across her face. And then as she said the words that I knew she would say again, I knew she would cheer up:

"Let's do this."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


As I was raking through my many clothes, I found a violet dress that my mom or Phil had gotten for me at the beginning of the summer, when I got here. I rummaged through my huge walk-in closet and found a pair of super-cute light blue peep-toe pumps. Next, I peered in my jewelry box and found the cutest headband, a bright pink one with an adorable bow. I smiled when Iooked at it. This outfit wouldn't work on me, ever. It was flirty, cute, girly, sweet, and a bit sassy--just like Ari.

I got her dressed in that, did her hair and makeup. I curled it at the ends, just softly, and weaved a mini-braid throughout it as it tumbled down. Next, I used just a hint of dark eyeliner, and a lot of mascara--waterproof, of course, in case anything happened. The final touch--super red lipstick-- and I was done.

Then, Ariana did my hair in a breathtaking updo, and did my makeup and earrings. I stared at myself, amazed. The reflection of the girl that I could hardly believe was me... actually was me.

Before this could sink in, I heard the doorbell ring. My heart leaped, and excited warmth spread throughout my body. It was Nick--I knew it.

We raced down the stairs, and slowed to a stop. My mom and Phil had opened the door, surprised to see Nick in a tux. "Oh, you two are going to the dance?" My mom looked confused. "I thought--"

"It's okay, Mom," I quietly interrupted from the staircase, holding softly to the mahogany railing. "I'm going."

They all looked up to stare at me, and Ari behind me. Phil and Mom were beaming proudly, and Nick stared at me, mesmerized, a sweet smile on his face and lights dancing in his eyes. 

Mom and Phil grabbed cameras, and the three of us-- Nick, Ari, and I-- posed for pictures, some together, some apart. When it was time for them to take the picture of Nick and I together, we stood side my side, smiling. I thought the picture was going to be just that, but at the last moment, he wrapped his arms around m and kissed my cheek. I smiled, feeling my face flush with pleasure. I giggled.

"Thanks for the dress and the letter."

Nick whispered in my ear, and my ear tingled at his words, his sweet breath in my ear. "Thanks for being so gorgeous."

And with that, I hugged my mom and future stepfather goodbye, hopped in Nick's expensive-looking car, and drove away into the early evening light.

I grinned. The party was about to begin.

 

 

 

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