Fallen Angel

A young teen falls for a guy she had no idea she would ever fall for. But when she realizes that he loves another girl as well. Will she be able to fight for him? Or will she give up just when she realizes that there's no hope?


9. Been there, Not Quite Over That


            I didn't necessarily understand why I was on Caleb's doorstep, but somehow that's where I was. Caleb looked genuinely surprised. I guess he believed me when I said that I was fine. I wouldn't had if I were in his place.

            Honestly, this breakup has been the hardest thing I've ever been through. I don't know why I wanted to be alone when I knew that I wanted to scream, and shout at heavens. I even destroyed my room, and people know I'm very OCD.

            "Are you okay?" He looked down at me, searching my face for anything revealing. My lips made a tight line and I sighed.

           "You were right...okay?" Tears started to form and I couldn't hold back how I felt anymore. His words broke down my wall, and tears stained my face. Caleb embraced me in a hug and I just let go.

            "I'm here for you. Always," He kissed the top of my head. He pulled away and I looked up at him, sniffling. "Wanna come inside?"

             "S-sure," He wiped away the remaining tears and grabbed hold of my hand. He led me into the front hallway, pressing me against the wall as he shut the door close.

              "Mind if I show you around? You don't have to if you don't-"

               "I would love to." I smiled faintly. He smiled wide and led me into the kitchen.

               "This is where I cook and eat my meals. It's not much, just enough to get me by," I looked around the poorly-lightened kitchen, and smiled wide.


               He smiled and continued to lead me to the living room. There was a loveseat, three-seated couch and a tan recliner. The room felt loving, goosebumps formed on my arms. I poked him and he started walking me upstairs.

               The metal rails ran up to the second story of the house and ended in front of a small dark room. The hallway was pitch black, and I could make out were two more doors and a boarded-up window.

             My eyebrows arched. Why is it boarded-up like that? I shook my head and ignored my curosity. There was probably a reason why he did that.

            He shuffled us to the master bedroom to the far right. It was dark; it only had a bed and a table with a laptop sitting on top. Caleb walked over to the bed and sat on it.

            "Viola. What do you think? It's mostly empty. I don't entirely have enough money to buy furniture,"

            "I like it. So...whatcha do for fun?" I grinned.

            "Photography, drawing, and story writing, but none of my stories are any good compared to yours," He stood up from his bed and grabbed his laptop.

             "You've read them? I didn't think anyone did," I shyly rubbed my arm.

             "Of course," His face burned red a bit. "Hey...I have to tell you something...well do..." He slid the laptop to the side, and inched closer to me.

              "What is it?" I gulped. He stood right in front of me, gently pulling my chin up to look him in the eyes. My arms were pinned to my side and his lips touched mine.

               My body immediately reacted, wrapping my arms around his neck. He pressed my backside against the wall, and bit my neck roughly. I let out a moan. All of a sudden, my self-conscious kicked in.

             What are you doing!! You aren't over Dominic!! And you don't even like Caleb...don't use him...he's your friend.

             "Caleb...stop...please..." I moaned out. He kept kissing me and my neck, trying to pull off our clothes.

              "Why?" He whispered in my ear. "We're having fun..."

              "Stop...please..." He yanked off my shirt and laid me on top of his bed. He got on top and kissed me more. I pushed him off and covered my chest. "I said stop."

             "I thought you wanted this..." He whispered to himself. "I thought you loved me."

             "As a friend...I just went through a hard breakup. I can't do these things...I can't rebound like this...I'm sorry," He whispered quietly to himself and punched a wall, leaving his hands bruised, scraped, and covered in blood.

          "Leave. Now," He growled. I grabbed my shirt and ran out of his house as fast as I could.

           What have I done?



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