It all started October 30th, 2010. Patrick was having his annual Halloween party. Nick was a pirate, I a gangster. That was supposed to be the story we told everyone, the moment that we knew we were meant for each other. Things became so screwed up after that. That one perfect day, the one I had been dreaming of for weeks, came to a screeching halt as she walked through the door. Clearly she had ignored the fact that this was a costume party; her short skirt and cleavage-enhancing top were worn for a reason.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” she whispered into his ear, “You want to go outside?” He nodded, and his hand slipped out of mine and into hers. I froze. Nick’s friends stared after him with disgusted looks, and then tentatively approached me. Alex was the first to speak.

“Are you…ok?” I was surprised; he usually supported anything Nick did. I nodded, unable to speak for a minute. Slowly, I rose, walked out the front door, and went home. As I walked down Patrick’s driveway, I saw Nick and the girl walking the other direction, hand in hand. The tears welled up in my eyes, and I ran, not stopping until I got home. I sat awake for a while, listening to Taylor Swift and eating chocolate chip ice cream, wondering what I did wrong, wondering why he chose her.

A few days later, reality had sunk in, and I had given up trying to look decent. Somehow, I managed to make it through the first five class periods, but when I walked into Spanish, my heart sank. Of course Nick was there, as he was every day, but he was smiling and laughing, and didn’t notice me as I took my seat across from him. It took all my focus not to look at him or talk to him, but for Nick, it was almost too easy. The bell rang, and he left, not looking back at me.
Fast forward to March 5th, and the pain has finally begun to fade. I was at a party at my friend Allison’s, and everything seemed normal until I got a text from Nick. “Hey,” it said “I’m sorry I never apologized for…that night. I was wondering if you maybe wanted to start over.” My mind was telling me two different things. The devil on my shoulder told me to leave him alone, let him be the one to suffer for once. The angel urged me to forgive and forget, to give him another chance. For once, I agreed with the devil, and left Nick alone
Today, I write this story down for the first time. I haven’t talked to Nick in weeks, yet I catch him looking at me during Spanish sometimes. I’ve begun to move on, but I miss him on those days when I feel alone. Yet I am not completely upset; I admit, I get a strange satisfaction from knowing that Nick is alone too. Karma turned around to bite him, but not before it hurt me first.