Mr. Heartbreaker & I

He breaks their hearts, she picks up the pieces. He screws them all, she helps them get back on their feet again. They've never met. Complete strangers. But one Chemistry project could change that...for better? Or for worse?


1. P R O L O G U E



            “A-and then he just got up in the morning and left! No number, no nothing! I-I tried to talk to him at s-school b-but he j-just walked right past me! And w-when I finally c-caught him, h-he couldn’t even remember who I was!”

            I stared at the crying girl in front of me, trying to give her the most sympathetic expression I could muster while handing her a tissue. She took it from my hands and blew in loudly.

            I gave her a couple of minutes to gather herself together before launching into the questions. “And when this happen?”

            “Two days ago,” she sniffled, dabbing at the corner of her eyes. Her mascara had left black streaks all over her face, making her look even more disheveled than she actually was. I made a motion for her to wipe them and she did hastily, another sound escaping through her mouth.

            “When did you guys hook up?”

            “Like two weeks ago. I saw him at Ashley’s party. My friends told me that he couldn’t stop staring at me all night, but I knew that he was trouble the instant I made eye contact with him. Those tattoos he was flashing said it all.”

            “And yet…?” I prodded.

            “And yet, I still went for him. I’ve always had a thing for bad boys, you know—” Yeah, you and just about every other girl I know. “My friends started encouraging me to go up to him, and I didn’t want to do it at first, but then I realized how hot he looked with those dark jeans and white v-neck and I couldn’t fight it any longer. But the minute I looked up, he was gone,” she replied breathlessly. “And then I felt arms around my waist and he asked me if I wanted to get out of there, and I said yes.”

            “Where did you guys go?”

            “Back to my house. My parents weren’t home. That’s the reason why I was able to go to the party in the first place.”

            “It was your first party?” There was no way this girl could have been to more than one.

            “Umm…” her cheeks tinted red as she blushed. “Yeah…how’d you know?”

            Your inexperience? I laughed, giving her a warm smile. “I’ve seen enough girls to be able to tell the difference. It’s okay though. You’re not the only one. What happened next?”

            “Well, you know, what usually happens, happened. We went up to my room and…” she paused, blushing again. “One thing led to another, I guess. He made me feel so special. He told me how I was the most gorgeous girl at the party, and that he couldn’t take his eyes off me the whole entire night. It didn’t feel like sex…it felt like something much more than that—like it was something meaningful.”

            I smiled at her sadly. “Yeah, they have a tendency to do that. What happened in the morning?”

            She bit her lip, tears filling up once again in her eyes. I grabbed hold of the tissue box and gestured for her to take another one, but she shook her head, wiping her tears away with her hand. “He was just…gone. It was like nothing ever happened in the first place.”

            “Was it your first time?” I asked gently. Those cases were always the worst. It really sucked when you realized that you had lost your virginity to a complete douchebag. Especially one who would never even look at you twice after it happened. You had given them everything—and they couldn’t even bothered to bat an eye about it.

            Her bottom lip started to quiver, “Y-yes!” and once again she burst into tears.

            “Oh Lissa, come here,” I soothed, opening my arms to give her a hug. She wrapped her arms around me tightly, crying into the crook of my shoulder. I rubbed her back, trying to get her to calm down. “It’s all right. Just let it out.”

            “I just don’t understand how he could do this to me!” she sobbed, her words muffled by my shoulder. “I gave him everything!”

            “That’s what he does,” I replied, biting my lip. “He preys on the vulnerable. He’ll take you home, make you feel special, and be gone as soon as you open your eyes. That’s what people like him do. You should’ve listened to your gut when it warned you that he was trouble.”

            “But he was so hot!” she wailed.

            “They always are,” I sighed. “But looks aren’t everything, and this should teach you a lesson.”

            She looked up, her eyes now rimmed red from the amount of crying she had done. A large wet spot had appeared on my t-shirt from where her tears had stained it. “I feel so stupid…”

            “I understand,” I murmured. “But it’s not your fault. You said that it was your first time doing any of this, right? Mistakes happen. You just have to get right back up again after they happen and learn not to repeat it in the future again. You’re not stupid, Lissa. Just don’t let this happen to you again.”

            “But I don’t even want to date anyone after this! How do I know it won’t happen again? What if it does? What if he ends up being a total douchebag in the end?”

            “What if it doesn’t happen again?” I contradicted. Her eyes narrowed in confusion, but I barreled ahead anyway. “What if you find an amazing guy and he turns out to be everything that you’ve ever wanted? You’ll never find him if you never put yourself out there.”

            Lissa hesitated. “I guess, but—”

            I interrupted her midsentence. “’A guy out there was meant to be the love of your life, your best friend, your soul mate. The one you can tell your dreams to.  He’ll brush the hair out of your eyes, send you flowers when you least expect it. He’ll stare at you during the movies, even though he spent eight dollars to see it.  He’ll call to say goodnight or just because he’s missing you. He’ll look into your eyes and tell you, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. And for the first time in your life, you’ll believe it.’ Can you tell me who said this?”

            “Nicholas Sparks,” she whispered.

            “Right,” I nodded. “Nicholas Sparks. Don’t let this mistake scar you for the rest of your life, Lissa. Otherwise, you might never find your Mr. Right. He’ll love you for you who are, and he won’t leave. You just have to find him first.”

            Her eyes widened as she took that in. “You think so?”

            I gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I know so.”

            And for the first time since I had talked to her, a slow smile started to appear on her lips. “That’s it, that’s the smile that I’ve been waiting to see!” I teased. She giggled, and I felt my shoulders sag with relief at the fact that I had been able to lift her mood.

            “Thanks Abby, you’re right. And you’ve made me feel a whole lot better.”

            I nodded, giving her a smile. “No problem. It’s what I do.” I pick up the pieces…

            “I just hope that Justin realizes what he’s missing one day.” …that he left behind.

            I shrugged. “I hope so too. But guys like him? Bad news. If you need anything, just call, okay? I’ll be there to help you.”

            She gave me a grateful smile. “Thank you so much. They’re right, you know. You are a miracle worker.”

            I laughed. “I don’t know about that, Lissa. But I’m glad I could make you feel better.”

            She shrugged. “Well to me, you are. Thanks again.”

            “It was my pleasure. And Lissa?” she turned around before getting into her car. “You’ll find him someday. I know you will.” She shot me another big smile and nodded, heading out of the driveway. I watched her car disappear into the horizon before heading and picking up all the discarded tissues on the floor.

            Me, a miracle worker? Well I’ve never been called that before…

            I just helped girls get back on their feet after being played by the most notorious player at McKinley High: Justin Bieber. When their self-esteem shattered, I was the one who had coaxed it back up. When they had a problem, I helped them solve it. I took away his satisfaction of breaking hearts by mending them, and helping them heal without remembering his presence.

            I wasn’t a miracle worker—just a friend. I cared about what happened. I helped make things right. Best of all, I had no experience with him whatsoever, so I was able to have a clear head in helping the ones who needed it the most.

            Too bad a stupid Chemistry project had to change all of that.



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