The Asshole is my Kryptonite

"Stop playing hard to get, Princess. I know you want me." He growled, pushing me against the wall. "In your deepest dreams, asshole." I responded holding his piercing gaze, whilst struggling to keep my breathing at a steady pace due to his close proximity. "Alright, if that's how you want to play the game. But remember, games are my forte." He breathed heavily near my neck, sending involuntary shivers down my spine. He smirked, before he was gone; leaving me to try calm my rosy cheeks as my heart danced to the ticking of the classroom clock.

"Asshole." I muttered, before slipping out of the unoccupied classroom.


17. Nostalgia?

Chapter 16

Nostalgia; a sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past, typically for a place  or period with happy personal associations.

The remembrance of a past experience; a memory or even a thought, can make or break you. It can be manipulated to pick you up or knock you six feet under. It can piece you back together or tear you apart. Create you or destroy you.

A happy memory could be behind the decision to pick yourself back up. It could be why you genuinely smile once in a very long time. A bad one? That could be behind a number of things.

People advise me to 'live in the moment' but I've never been one to do that - I like organisation. Knowing what's going to happen before I do it, having the time in front of me planned out - so when I catch up to it I'm ready to face it. Time is the enemy of those who don't like living a mediocre life, so you need to be careful who you listen to.


Time can be your worst foe if you give it the upper hand.

Living in the moment can be a perilous thing; you don't always keep in mind the regret you may be facing later.

It's almost like getting a tattoo when your drunk. At the time you don't think too much of it - well really you don't think at all; you just know it's something you want. It isn't until later that it finally dawns on you what you've done - and it's permanently there. Your thoughts are the needle, drawing the scenario up in your mind, pin point.

Don't get me wrong, sometimes living in the moment is good - it just depends on the moment itself and how vital the decisions you make during that time can be. The small thought of apprehension can easily stop all movement and make you stop and think about a possible harmful prospect.


A moment of patience, in a moment of impetuousness, can prevent many moments of regret.


Stress is resistance to living in the moment.




It's been a week. A week since I saw his face. A week since I spoke to him. A week since I got the pivotal information that my own mother had risked her life for his mum.

But the risk was too precarious, and she lost it.

It was almost like I was numb, not specifically at the new found information but more at the remembrance of everything about the watershed moment - the grief, tears, pain.

Just all of it.

I had managed to accept the past only to have a journal in my hands, another piece to add to my puzzle, a single parent, and a grave with my mother's name on it.

I hated it.


I hated remembering. I hated that she was gone. I hated that I'd never hear her advice anymore, or have her help me choose my wedding dress. I hated being vulnerable. I hated the fact that I was so numb. I hated that I couldn't cry but merely tremble.


I hated it all.


I ran. I was being a coward but I didn't know what else to do. I could faintly hear the footsteps coming after me and Miles shouting my name. But I ignored it. I zoned it all out and kept pumping my legs one after the other, not understanding why the hell my car was so far away - why the more I ran towards it, the more it felt further away.

It was as though the world around me was slowly but surely tumbling on me. As though the death was the earthquake and this is no more than a painful aftershock.

A very, very painful aftershock.

"Tiffany wait! Please just hold on!" I forgot that Miles was even following me - my mind was somewhere else, my legs fuelled by pure instinct. He grabbed hold of my arm, whipping me around to look at him, but I'd looked everywhere except his eyes.


"Look at me." I rose my gaze to the bridge of his nose, but stopped there.


He let out a defeated sigh, the grimace on his face overtaking all his features. "How are you?"


"Just fucking dandy Miles." His eyes widened and he just stood there, his gaze not wavering as it continued to lay on me.


"What?" I finally questioned, his watch making me uncomfortable.


"You swore." What?


"Well hello there Sherlock Holmes, I'm Tiffany, nice to meet you." He frowned at my sarcasm.


"You're so innocent I'm not used to it. It was hot." He muttered. I was quite sure I wasn't supposed to hear the last part, but within an instant my cheeks has transformed to a light scarlet colour. As though I had just been slapped back to reality I suddenly remembered what he had previously said. I turned around, walking away from the boy who seemed to fascinate me, but he was hot on my heels. Or currently my converse.  


"Tiffany! Slow down! Wait up!" His usually unrecognisable accent came out thick. But I only picked up my pace.


"Would you stop being so damn stubborn and fucking listen to me?!" He was right. It was hot.


I came to a halt and I spoke in a voice so low I was almost sure he didn't hear it, "You don't know what it's like to lose a parent Miles."


He let out a dour, humourless chuckle. "I don't do I? You don't get it do you? That same day I lost my father. He's bloody secret that he tried so hard to keep from his wife and 13 year old son. The woman that was supposed to be the love of his life! The boy that was supposed to look up to him! We kicked him out Tiffany!" He heatedly ran his fingers through his thick hair, steadying his breathing as though trying to calm down. "But no it wasn't good enough to lose my dad physically. I just had to lose my mum to depression." His voice had lowered to a hoarse whisper. "She lost her best friend, and I lost her. Having gone astray from myself in the process."


I didn't know what to say. I had no clue what to do. So I delayed it. Just like everything else, I needed to organize and plan my response to this.


"I just need time. I'll talk to you soon Miles." His shoulders dropped and he finally let go of the grip he had around my arm, leaving a tingling sensation in its place.




Two hours later I was on the phone with Cass, explaining all that had happened.


"Well shit on my nipples and call me Margaret." She responded after I breathed out all that happened to me within in the past couple hours.


"What the? I'm not even going to bother Cass. Just help me. What do I do?"


"That's up to you babe, it's your feelings, your emotions and your friendship here." She was no help.


"You are useless."


"I know." I could just see her smiling at the moment.  "I have to go Tiff. My brother won't stop calling my name and I think I might actually put his head through a wall." As if on cue, I could hear a light 'Cassidy!' yelled through the phone.


"I swear I am going to tase your balls off Michael!" I small laugh left my mouth.


"I'll leave you to it Cass, talk to you soon."

"Wait Tiff!" I stopped just before I hit the end button, fortunately she was on speaker.




"I know what Miles told you was painful. But he must have mustered up a pair to end up revealing it all. Cut the guy some slack, he was what? thirteen? fourteen? He didn't actually do anything. Don't dwell on someone else's problems and turn them into your own." I hated it when she was right.




"I know the boy did one thing wrong, but don't let that allow you to forget all the things he did right." And with one last yell of her name from Michael she had hung up.




Just like every night I peeked out of my room window and right there, in black whiteboard marker was a little message from Miles.


'Forgiveness isn't about changing the past. Merely the future.'


I sigh left my lips. Every day Miles had written a few words on his window in a marker, whether it be as simple as a good morning or something such as a quote; and he knew I saw them, because for some unknown reason, I always seemed to reply.


I knew I had to confront Miles sooner or later, and thankfully he'd given me my space, but I had even skipped two days this week so I didn't have to attend DT with him.


Don't dwell on someone else's problems and turn them into your own.


Cassidy's words once again rung in my head, almost like a bell. And just like that, it was as though I had an epiphany. Cass was right. As always. But what did Miles do? I could tell how nervous he was once he finally told me and I had just lost it.


And to be honest, holding a grudge was quite tiring. Constantly avoiding them, allowing the scar in your heart to bleed simply at the sight of them, and plain missing them. Holding a grudge is like letting someone live rent-free inside your head.


I said I needed time but frankly, time was overrated.


I grabbed the small marker from my drawer and in my neatest cursive writing I wrote down a few words, hoping that this would work and he would see this.


Let your past make you better, not bitter. Meet me at the lake at 11am tomorrow. See you soon asshole.



Ello there! Well apologies once again for the late update, I had a lot to do and hell (school) started back up again.


Let me know what you think of this chapter :)


Please vote comment share, it motivates to update faster and simply makes me happy :)


P.S This is not edited as usual, I'll go back and edit everything at the end of TAIMK hopefully :)


Thank you all so much my lovely dedicated readers,


Until next time lovelies x

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