Girls Like Me || c.h.

(Previously entitled 'Broken Love')
All plot lines are fictional.
"Guys don't fall for girls like me."


32. fucked up

iCalum's POV

I just sat on my bed. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I didn't want to see anyone or anything. My phone had gone off twice but I didn't want to look at it incase it was Emma.

I'm the worst boyfriend ever. I cheated on Emma. She would never forgive me. She's never going to forgive me. How do I even tell her something like this?

I can't. I didn't want to tell her about a kiss and now it's one-hundred percent worse.

I had sex with Rachael.

I didn't want to be near myself. I've fucked up big time.

I get out of my bed and turn my phone off, not even checking my notifications.

What do I even do? I guess I'll have Rachael to lean on.

"No Calum," I whisper to myself.

I don't want Rachael, I want Emma. Only Emma. I'll always want Emma, no matter what happens.

I felt a tear run down my cheek. It was over. I needed to realize it's over and it's all my fault.

She's gonna leave me. I'm so fucking selfish. I would never let Emma go and I don't want her to leave me. I couldn't handle it. All I want is for her to stay with me, but its all my fault. I fucked up, big time. I deserve to be left by her, she deserves better than me.

I want try and explain. I want Emma to be able to forgive me, but I shouldn't think that way. As much as I want Emma, she probably won't want me.

No, she won't want me. There's no probably.

She trusts me. She trusted me. If she didn't know, she would still trust mr, but I couldn't do that to Emma.

I can't do this to her. Sometimes, I think about what would happen if I just left. I could go to Australia. I could move in with my dad. Get away from my stepdad, but leave Emma.

Leave the person I love the most. The person who has always been there. The person that made me complete. The person who I love.

I hate myself for doing this. I didn't mean to, but I hate the fact that it happened. I hate myself for getting drunk. I didn't need to. I told Emma I didn't need to. I needed to cope in different ways. 

I never got as bad as my dad, but I did drink a lot. I wanted to do it more, but I couldn't do that to my mom. Me and my mom were really close. Me and my dad we're too, but then, that day it all went down. 

I decide to go downstairs. No ones home. 

There's a note on the kitchen counter telling me that he'll be home soon. It's 3:00pm. I don't know when he wrote it or how soon "soon" would be.

I grab a granola bar and head to the couch.

The couch that we had our first date on. When she told me she didn't need therapy. She told me I'd been helping.

Maybe I was able to help then, but I don't think I was thinking about Emma when I had sex with Rachael. She deserves someone to think about her all the time.

I turn the tv and get really into some documentary about J.K. Rowling.

I was trying really hard to distract myself. Emma was coming home in a week.

I hear the front door open, not bothering to look over.

"Hey Calum."

"Hi," I take a glance in his direction before putting my eyes back on the tv.

"Sorry it took so long, I had to get some things," he said before placing his bags down on the kitchen counter.

"It's fine," I whisper.

"Emma's been trying to contact you all day," he walked over to me, "and I tried to text you but you didn't answer."

"I turned my phone off," I said truthfully.

"Well," he got his phone out, "call Emma, now."

"She's fine."

"I said call her Calum."


"Look, I saw a girl leaving this morning and she wasn't Emma, so you're gonna call Emma so you can sort everything out."

"I can't sort it out!" I yell.

"Just talk to her."

"I don't want to," I say standing up and walking up the stairs into my room.

I go in my room slamming the door and kicking the first thing I see which is my book bag.

A bunch of things fell out, but I just ignored it.

I walked over to my bed and smashed my face into my pillow.

There was a knock on the door and in walked my stepdad.d

I like how he liked to knock and then just walk in like I said "come in", when I actually didn't.

He looked at the mess I had made by kicking my book bag and then walked over to me with his phone in his hand.

"Emma wants to talk to you," he said silently.

"Tell her I'm busy," I mumble into my pillow.

"She really wants to talk to you."

I do need to talk to Emma. I just want her to know I love her. I want her to think everything is okay. I don't want her to stress.

"Okay," I agree taking the phone from his hands.

I look at the screen looking at the call on hold. Emma's number is displayed at the top.

He leaves the room and closes the door lightly.

I go back to the call.

"Hey," I whisper, not knowing if Emma is still there.

"Hey Calum!" She exclaimed.

She sounded good. I was glad she was good, now I just needed her go think I was good.

"How are you love?" I lowly chuckle, using the nickname she loves.

"I'm great love," she says in a posh accent, "and how are you love?"

"I'm great too," I try to laugh again, but I can't bring it out.

"Guess who's coming home in two weeks?"

"You are."

"Yes I am, and I'm coming to visit you as soon as I come back."

"I miss you so much Em."

"I miss you so much too Cal."

I don't know what to say. I have so much to tell her, but I can't. I can't do it. She starts to talk again.

"Whatcha been doing lately?"

"Um," I clear my throat, "I've just been hanging out with Michael."

I hear her take a deep breath.

"You sound nervous Calum."

"No. What makes you think that?"

"I can just tell. I remember when you were talking to me when I was in my coma. Your voice would be all shaky and I could tell you were nervous. You sound nervous Calum."

"I'm not."

"Yes you are. What's up?"


There's a short pause.


"I said nothing Emma," I find myself yelling into the phone.

"God, calm down, I'm just trying to figure out what's going on Calum."

"Well I have to go, so."

"Where are you going."

"Nowhere, now, bye."

"Whatever Calum. See you in two weeks," she ends the call after that.

I slam the phone down on my sheets and throw my head back onto the pillow.

I look up at the ceiling trying to clear everything from my mind, but it doesn't work.

I take a few deep breaths and sit up.

I decide to clean up the mess I made when I kicked my book bag over.

I go onto the floor and pick up some books to put back in my bag. I haven't messed with it since the last day of school.

I look down into the bottom of the bag and almost have a heart attack.

I notice a small brown leather journal.

On the front it had Emma's name in white paint. It was covered in post stamps from California. That's always been where she's wanted to live.

"Shit," I mumble.

I pick up the journal and then just drop it.

I can't explain this. How would I explain this? I couldn't.

I can't do this to Emma.

I know what I need to do.















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