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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14. Matt's POV

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered as I stared at myself in the mirror. These past couple days have been absolute torture. Christina hates me and has a new boyfriend that plays guitar and soaks himself in Axe, Kaitlyn is hurt and wounded and won't even speak to me, and my mom has somehow convinced me to wear this ridiculously preppy shirt and khakis to church. She said that girls like guys that are "well polished." What the heck does that even mean? I stared longingly at my Green Day shirt in my closet, and the most comfortable pair of jeans I own. Goodbye, comfyness, and hello total torture. I unbuttoned the collar of my shirt so that my chest peeked through.

I sighed. I really, totally hated my life. I thought back to a couple of days ago, at the mall.

Kaitlyn had stormed off, probably to the ladies room, tears streaming down her face, and I just stood there like a complete idiot on idiot tablets. Why should I run after her? I thought. All she's been doing is manipulating me, and I'm sick of it. I thought I was in love with her, but maybe I'm just in love with her too-short skirt and well-filled bra. Christina, on the other hand, she was perfect. She never manipulated me, and whenever we hung out, we talked about life and crap and listened to actually good music, like Coldplay and Green Day and All American Rejects and stuff. I remember in sixth and seventh grade there was this hill that we always lay down on to look at the stars. It was really nice, and I realized that I could talk to Christina about anything. My overprotective, goony family, my grades, my life... everything. And she listened. It was perfect. She told me stuff too, and made me laugh. I smiled a bit then at a joke I remembered her telling me.

And then I realized what I had to do. I had to walk over to her and tell her right then and there that I missed her. I missed all the time we had spent together. I missed her smile that lit up her face and her eyes and made the whole room suddenly a brighter place. I was going to do it, and I wasn't going to back down. This was Christina we were talking about. I loved her; and I wasn't going to let her go for some random blonde ditz that wore heels so high I thought she would break her legs every time she took a step.

I stepped up to her. "Hey, Christina." Then I realized it was a big mistake. Because she had been talking and laughing with the other dude right there. And when they looked up at me, their expressions hardened and they stopped laughing and then just looked at me.

Can you say awkward?

"Hi," Christina said finally, her voice blank. I mean it. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, in her voice. No relief, no sadness, no regret. She just acted like she had never seen me before in my life. "Was there something you wanted?"

I saw the other guy looking at me questioningly. His eyes were curious but had a territorial hint to them.

"Christina, I need to talk to you," I said.

The guy exchanged confused glances with Christina. "Is this your... boyfriend? Should I...,"

"No, Nick. It's fine. Stay here," she said firmly. Then she looked at me; her chocolate brown eyes, usually warm and happy, were hard and cold. "I don't want to talk to you," she said finally. "You broke my heart; and I need my space. You need to respect that."

"Christina--" 

"No means no, okay? We can't be together again. Right now, I don't even think we can be friends." She laughed without humor. "You hurt me. You played me. I'm not going to crawl back into your forgiving arms, just to be crushed and broken again. I don't need that. Right now, just stay away from me. Is that clear?"

I stared into her eyes. 

"Crystal," I said finally.

"Good," she said.

"Good."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"FINE!"

"Okay, Christina, maybe we should go to another store now. I think they have a sale at Charming Charlie's." Her friend Arianna (Ari for short) said, putting a hand on her shoulder. Then she glared at me, and sneered. Actually sneered.

I've always hated that girl. What's up with her super-red hair, anyway?

"Fabulous. I've got about fifty dollars left. Think they still have that necklace I wanted?" Christina replied, sugary-sweet.

"I'm pretty sure I saw it in the window," answered Ari. 

"Nice seeing you," Christina said to me, because she was polite. But that's all it was-- polite. There was nothing more. No friendliness, no sweetness. Just her. I knew she hated me. I was just going to have to accept that, as hard as it was. We were never going to be the same again.

And whose fault was that?

Mine. 

All because I made a mistake with a miniskirt-wearing cheerleader.

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

I sighed. The sermon was dragging on and on and on. I mean, I'm a Christian, okay? I listen to Flyleaf and Fireflight and bands like that (I still get teased; my friends call it "Jesus music.") But I really don't think a sermon should last over an hour. But at Austin Community Church, that wasn't how it worked.

I was kind of glad Christina went to a different church on the other side of Austin.

"And now," the pastor said after we prayed, "We have Nick Anderson here, and he's going to tell you a little bit about an upcoming event happening later this summer."

Wait. Nick Anderson? Wasn't that... Christina's Axe-marinating cheesy-guitar boyfriend...?

It was, in fact, the Nick I had feared it was. He got up to the mic and said, "Hey, guys. How are you doing this morning?"

A bunch of "goods" ran through the crowd.

Nick smiled. "Good. Well, I'm here to tell you about the church-sponsored event that's happening, believe it or not, in about a week. It's called the midsummer dance, and it's gonna be tons of fun. It's being held at the community center on July 6th. There will be a DJ there, plus a few bands. Actually, I'm playing there, with the help of my very talented friend Christina Simmons." 

What?!

He was playing there? With her? 

The world was legit spinning around me. I had to hold on to the back of the pew to keep myself from puking.

I don't know why, but this rush of anger came spilling out of me just then. It was weird. I always knew Christina was a good singer; in fact, she was amazing. Her voice was serene and clear, like an angel. But she was singing along... with HIM. I felt, as lame as it sounds, totally territorial and jealous.

I sat back in the pew. Things were getting all too weird around here. When was it safe to ask, "When the heck will things go back to normal?"

 

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