Ella

September 12th, 2018.

Christian,

I think back to all of the things you did to me and feel ashamed that I ever fell for you in the first place. You wanted to make it seem like you were this incredible guy, and for a brief period of time I believed you. I genuinely thought you had good intentions for me. I didn't realize that being hidden was normal. I didn't realize that every time you deliberately didn't want me to go places with you that I looked at myself a little different each time.

I was so hurt that I became a different person because of you. I got so depressed to the point that I did things I swore I never would. I wanted to try and figure out why you hurt me the way you did, so I tried to hurt others the same way you hurt me. I cried almost every night feeling like I was worthless, I tried to come to terms with the fact that I gave almost a year of my time to someone who threw it away like it was nothing for someone else.

You may not care, you may not even remember me, but I remember every single thing that you did to me. I remember every single ounce of pain that you made me feel. I don't think you realize just how much you fucked my head up. You don't realize just how ugly you made me feel. You don't realize how much you changed me.

Sometimes I hope that a part of you does realize how much you hurt me. I hope that somewhere, deep down, you know never to do this to someone else again. I hope you understand that the hurt you cast upon someone can have a long-lasting impact. I hope you are a kinder person to others than you were to me.

Please don't hurt anyone else.

_______

Patrick brought flowers. A whole arrangement actually with sunflowers, lilies and roses. I was expecting him not to show up and to prove me right. I expected him to prove that he was just playing with me all along, but here he is in a white button down dress shirt with flowers. He actually brought me flowers.

I wish I could say that I feel self-conscious tonight, but when I make eye contact with him he just smiles and makes me feel so beautiful. For a moment there he looks like he's going to kiss me again, and I want that more than anything, but then my grandma appears at the door, my grandpa not far behind as her eyes light up with excitement when she sees the extravagant bouquet he has gotten me. That's when I realize I still haven't said thank you.

"This is really pretty." I decide to say. "Thank you so much Patrick."

My body feels numb and kind of like I'm on cloud nine or something when he greets my grandma with a kiss on the cheek and my grandpa with a strong handshake. He's everything I've always wanted. He's kind, smart, polite, confident, charming, and just everything I've been looking for. I can tell my grandparents approve because my grandpa sends me one of those awful winks.

Back when I was around nine he sat me down once at a family Christmas party and told me, Ells, you can always tell how good of a man he is by the handshake and the eye contact. If he can't shake a hand with confidence or look you in the eye then he's classified as a coward, Ells. You don't need a coward.

I don't have a coward. I have Patrick Connelly, and he is far from a coward.

"It's so nice to finally meet you!" My grandma exclaims as she wraps him in the worlds tightest hug. "Ella told me so much about you last night I thought my ears would fall off."

"Oh god." I groan. "Really?"

"Calm down sweet pea. I bet he did the same exact thing to his mom too. You guys seem real infatuated with each other, right Bob?" She looks back to my grandpa and he nods his head like he always does because with grandma Susan you don't ever want to disagree with her. One thing about her is that she hates to be proven wrong, and if you even for a second disagree with her on even one thing she will –not joking you- sit there for an hour and explain to you why you're wrong and why she's right, even if she's wrong. That's why you just act like my Grandpa and nod your head so you won't have to listen to it.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Patrick smiles, that damn smile that could capture anyone's attention. "I go to the shack a lot with my friends. It's a great place."

"Well ain't he a catch?" Grandpa laughs, sending me another one of his weird winks. "Y'all don't be gone too long. I want her back here by ten."

"Grandpa, really?" I plead. "It's the weekend, and I'm-"

"No later than ten." Patrick interrupts me, placing his hand on the small of my back. I swear I have an electric current run throughout every inch of my body.

We say goodbye and then we begin to walk. Where are we going? I have no idea. The only thing I can focus on is his fingers entwined with mine as he drags me down to the beach, our feet hitting the sand at a semi-slow pace.

I just think it's kind of crazy how one person can change your perspective on everything. Like, when I came here for the summer I never expected to meet Patrick Connelly, and I never thought in a million years I'd be holding hands with him. He catches me off guard and stops right then and there, pressing his lips against mine when we're far enough away from the house. My knees almost give out, my heart wanting to burst out of my chest. I press my hands against the sides of his face as his run down my back, just a little lower than they did the first time.

"I've been dying to do that." He says breathlessly. "Since I saw you just now. You look so good."

"Thank you." I blush, grasping his hand tighter. "So do you."

We begin to walk, and then we walk some more. We pass where we had our first kiss, causing me to blush when I remember since it's still so new. I don't know what I was thinking to kiss him back like that the other night, but I wanted to. I had no idea what I was doing, but he guided me the way he knew I wanted to be if that makes any sense at all. He just knew.

"So what are we doing for our first date?" I ask.

Pausing to give me a little grin, he shoves his other hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out twenty dollars. "I thought we'd go to the boardwalk and go to the arcade. On foot it'll take about ten minutes to get there, but I couldn't drive my parents car tonight, and I didn't want to have to make you drive, so I figured we could just talk before we get there."

"That sounds like a lot of fun." I reply with excitement.

"Really?" He questions. "Are you sure? I feel like it's kind of lame for our first date. I tried to come up with something better."

I tell him I'm sure, more than sure. An arcade is a perfect first date for us. As we continue to walk in silence he asks me the one thing I'm not ready for him to.

"So, why don't you like to drink?"

I'm quiet, too quiet, and he can sense that because he grasps my hand tighter and looks over at me to try and read the expression on my face. It brings back memories, and then those memories bring back even more memories. It just continues, all of them dancing around my head like the nutcracker ballet over and over, repeat and repeat, my tears trying desperately to not spill onto my cheeks.

"I just don't." I mutter.

"You just don't? Like, you don't even have an excuse as to why?"

"Patrick, I just don't."

He's walking on a thin line, a really thin one, and when I look away from him he steps behind me and wraps his arms around my waist as we continue to walk, his head resting on my shoulder. I don't want to say he's instantly forgiven, but he is. He definitely is.

"You're a mystery Ella Carson, you know that?" He whispers.

I feel awkward with his arms holding my stomach like this because I can feel the fat on my body rub against his skin, so I gently push them off so he can resume back to his original position next to me. He doesn't understand that I'm really not a mystery. I'm just boring old Ella Carson.

"I'm not that hard to figure out," I finally say. "But I'm also not gonna be an open book when we practically just met."

"I know, and that's what makes you a mystery. You're just different."

Different. I don't like that word. I know what he means by that. He means that I'm not the typical girl. I'm not skinny; I'm overweight, and not just by a little. So if I'm different, why is he here with me right now? Why is he wanting to take me out on a date? He just keeps bringing out the fears that I have pushed to the back of my head.

"Different." I repeat. "Yeah, sure."

His hand doesn't feel like I wanted to hold it anymore, so I let it go and wrap my arms around myself, staring at the sunset that looks so beautiful. I wish I were the sunset so everyone could admire me, even the worst of people.

"El." He says, my heart stopping at the nickname. "I didn't mean that in a bad way. I just mean that you don't give yourself up like the girls down here. You have respect for yourself. I think it's cool, and I also like the fact that you don't want to tell me personal stuff about yourself yet because you don't want to waste your breath. It makes me want to be worthy of you. You know, so I can like, hear all of those words come out of your mouth that I guarantee will be perfect. They always are. Whatever you say always is."

I stop walking and I stare at him as the wind gently blows through my hair, his eyes looking at me in panic as if he thought he just said something wrong. He didn't say anything wrong. He said everything right and in a way that makes me upset. In a way I wanted to be right about him but dammit, I'm not. Not even by a long shot.

"Fine." I smile, making him laugh that I just ignored everything he said. "You want to know something personal about me?"

"That depends. Are you a serial killer?" He asks.

I gasp, placing my hand over my heart. "Oh my god, how'd you know?"

He laughs harder than I've ever heard him laugh before until it fades into a smile, the lovely melody coming to an end. As we start to walk again he grabs onto my hand and holds it tighter so that this time I can't let go. "No but seriously, tell me."

Something I've never told anyone before comes out of my mouth so easily that I almost laugh. I thought it would be like climbing up Mount Everest or getting up the courage to jump out of an airplane and skydive, but it isn't. With Patrick everything comes easily. He's just Patrick and I'm just Ella, and for whatever reason that seems to work.

"My journal." I begin to say, clearing my throat. "Remember, the one I told you about?"

He nods his head for me to continue.

"There's an entry in it. It's the first entry I ever wrote and it's basically for the person I fall in love with. I've never told anyone about it, but I figure when I do eventually find that one; I want them to read it. It's pretty important to me, but now that I'm talking about it I just sound like a lunatic or-"

"I don't think that at all." He replies. "Actually, El, I think that's brilliant. What does it say?"

"The one who I fall in love with will be the one to find out." I tease.

"God, I really hope I find out."

Then he kind of looks like he didn't mean to say that out loud and I kind of feel my heart skip a beat. He wants me to fall in love with him. Patrick Connelly, the most attractive boy on the face of the earth wants me to fall in love with him. Thankfully we have almost reached the boardwalk so I don't have to embarrass him any further, the sound of children screaming on rides and glasses clinking from bars echoing nearby.

The boardwalk is beautiful just like it always is. There's a huge gigantic Ferris wheel with bright lights shining everywhere as little kids with huge pink cotton candy sticks sit in their stubby fingers, each one running around like crazy trying to get to another ride or to another food stand. Then you have the parents by the bar talking so loudly you thought your eardrums would burst, their laughter making you want to laugh along with them. There's some drunk guy right now inside singing along to Don't Stop Believin', his words slurred as he stumbles over the cord of the mic. Stuff like this is why I love coming to the boardwalk.

When we get to the arcade a man with a weird top hat and long scraggly black hair is seated at the ticket booth with the craziest drawn on mustache. I can tell Patrick is stifling a laugh, so I look away as he buys the tickets to focus on not embarrassing this poor guy. I suppose he's happy though being who he is, weird and with all of his little quirks. He doesn't seem to care one bit what anyone thinks of him here on this boardwalk and for that I admire him. I want to be more like this crazy mustache man.

"What first?" Patrick asks as we look around.

I don't know how to respond because everywhere you look there's a different game. There's bottle games where you throw a ball in the hopes of winning, but I'm not good with my aim at all so that probably wouldn't be a good one to start with. Then I see skeeball and want to start there because I actually kind of know how to play that one. It's not that I don't like arcades; it's just that it's not a talent of mine. I don't exactly have many talents.

"Skeeball." I smile and point to the left corner. "Thank you for buying the tickets by the way. I did bring money you know."

"It's our first date and you think I'm going to let you pay? If I made you pay for the first date then it wouldn't be a date. On the first date the guy pays. That's just the gentleman thing to do."

He inserts the ticket and the machine lights up, a bunch of different noises coming out at once as the balls come down the slot for me to pick up. Patrick motions for me to go first, so I do. I can feel him stare at me as I focus on trying to get my aim right. Unfortunately for me though, just like I knew it would end up, the ball doesn't go into any hole. It just sinks down into the zero spot. I shrug my shoulders to act as if I'm not competitive when I really am.

"It was your first time." He soothes. "You've just gotta warm up."Then he grabs one and I watch him, his eyes focusing on the machine before he moves his hand in an odd motion, his too sinking into the zero hole. I start to think maybe he's right about the whole warm up thing until he gives me a fake pout. "Damn...I guess I'm not that good either." He says, followed by a smug grin.

"You're totally faking!" I laugh. "Don't do that. Don't lose just to make me feel better. I don't want to win out of pity; I want it to be fair. If I lose with zero and you win with like two hundred I won't care."

He starts to laugh too and I grab another ball from the slot so I can align myself again, my hand steadying before I release it once more. This time it goes into the ten hole and not the zero. Hey, at least it's something.

"See? You're warming up El."

I smile at him when I hear him use that name again. It makes me feel like I'm important to him. I've never felt that way to anyone before. "I like that nickname. You know, El. I like that."

"Does anyone call you that? I want to call you something nobody else calls you." He picks up another ball since it's his turn and goes to toss it, but pauses and turns to look at me so he can wait for my answer. I guess I'm taking too long, but I'm just trying to figure out how on earth he's slightly interested in me or why he even wants to give me a nickname in the first place.

"No, actually. You'd think I'd get called that but nobody's ever thought of it."

His ball goes into the zero slot and I have the cheesiest grin on my face even though he has just lost on purpose. I wish I can actually get angry, but I can't because in all honesty he's adorable and he's making tonight one of the best nights of my life.

"Such a smart ass..." I tease, picking up another ball. "But if we're on the subject of nicknames then I think I have the right to call you one. What about Pat?"

"Pat?" He wrinkles his nose up in disgust. "El, that sounds like a girl. I don't like that."

"Rick?"

"I mean yeah, if you want me to be in a motorcycle gang and be a chain smoker, then sure."

"Well it's not my fault your name can only be broken down into two. It's either Pat or Rick. I don't know another nickname."

The ball swooshes into the ten again and I notice we're out, also realizing that I won. I had won out of pity of course, but I had still won, so I drag him towards a car racing game to try and beat him at that too. This one he seems more into, and he can't keep his eyes off the screen as he laughs when he crashes into something and occasionally swears from how crazy of a driver he's being. I hardly drive. I keep my hands on the wheel and stare at him driving the car, watching him glance at me ever so often when he messes up to see if I notice, which of course I do. But I just tell him how good he is and that I can never be as good as he is at this game. I think that's what girlfriends are supposed to do, although I'm not so sure what I am to him yet.

"This is why I don't have a license!" He yells once it comes to an end, his fist slamming on the wheel. His face is a slight red from all of the laughter before he leans over and kisses me. The sounds of the arcade fade, the screams of the children just outside on the boardwalk stop, and all I feel is him.

"I want to win you something." He murmurs, pulling away slightly. "I know just the thing."

He leads me out of the arcade and onto the boardwalk past multiple vendors, past the ferris wheel, past the drunken guy who is currently singing another pop song until we end up at an outdoor game. It has a basketball net attached and a bunch of basketballs in front of it. I'm not a genius or anything, but I can piece together what the object of the game is before I see the prizes. There are three levels, each one containing the small, medium, and large. The small has little things like candy, or one of those small pens with the fluff ball attached on the end, but the thing that catches my attention the most is a huge bear, I mean literally huge bear that's almost my height. I don't know how one would even carry it, but when I see Patrick look at it too I know that's exactly what he wants to win me.

"Five dollars to the young man in the nice dress shirt." The man running the game announces into the microphone, the mess of a crowd pausing to look for a second before they see something better to do and wander off.

He pulls a five out of his wallet and passes it over as I stand to the side so he can have his space. When the game starts I've never seen him so focused in my entire life. The basketballs go quickly one by one, almost every ball making it into the hoop as I analyze everything. The way his feet slightly come off the ground, the way his wrists do a little flick every time – which must be his lucky touch – but more importantly, the way he licks his bottom lip with anticipation every time the ball soars into the air to see if it will make it or not. He wants to win that bear for me, and if he doesn't win that bear for me I won't even care because the amount of effort he's putting in to trying to get it makes it all the better.

The timer buzzes all too quickly and he doesn't have enough points to win the bear. He looks defeated and upset, but before I know it he pulls another five out of his wallet. That's when I put my hand on his arm to stop him from spending more money on me tonight. He's spent enough. "You tried." I say. "That's all that matters."

"No, El. I'm going to win you the bear."

He passes the five over and the game starts up again, his hands doing that flick, his feet coming off of the ground and his tongue licking his bottom lip like no tomorrow. I stand there with the biggest smile on my face and wonder if any other girl right now is looking at him and getting jealous of us. I can't believe I actually have someone worthy of being jealous of, but I do. When that big bear comes off of the wall and causes me to stumble from it being so huge, I kiss him with as much appreciation as I can give.

Patrick smiles when we kiss, he always does, and he pulls me closer to him so he can kiss me even more.

I clear my throat after a couple of seconds of silence once we pull away and look up at him once more. "Thank you for everything you do for me. I know I haven't really gotten the chance to say it, but you are so incredible, Patrick. You make me feel so beautiful every single day. I've just never felt like this before."

"Well you deserve to feel that way." He kisses my cheek, wrapping his arms around my waist. The huge bear is stuffed between us almost, barely giving us any room. "I don't think I've ever seen someone as beautiful as you."

Almost as if right on cue, I watch everything fall apart directly in front of me. I feel his body stiffen and move away from me, his eyes darting side to side as his hands release from around my waist. I look behind me and see his friends walking over to us with confused expressions, and that's when I knew it was happening. This thing between Patrick and I, you know, whatever I thought we had, we don't really have. This thing between Patrick and I isn't meant to be.

I don't know his name, but one of the jocks asks Patrick if we're on a date, Rosie snickering away to her friends before they burst into laughter from a rude comment she most likely made. All I can do is hold on tight to the bear and wait for it to happen. Then, just like that, it happened.

"We- we aren't dating." He stutters, my heart breaking one by one into tiny little imaginary pieces. "I just told her I'd show her around to welcome her here and stuff."

I stand there in shock for a second when I hear him say that before they start talking about practice, pretending I'm not standing here with a bear the size of Texas draped over my shoulder. I don't want to listen anymore, so instead I begin to walk in the other direction with the damn bear sprawled over my body so he won't see me crying. I don't want him to know that my heart is broken. I don't want him to know that tonight was the best night of my life before it officially turned into the worst. I don't want him to know my self-esteem is gone, non-existent, not even a smidge of it left.

Who knows if he called for me, who knows if he looked back at me, but he damn sure didn't chase me. That would never happen though because like I've told myself many times before, love isn't like the movies. In life you're going to find out that he's not going to chase after you, and he's not going to come back and kiss you and tell you you're the one for him. He won't tell you he's sorry as you make love on the beach and forget the argument ever happened. Instead he's going to treat you like you don't exist and you'll be walking home with the world's biggest bear along with the world's most broken heart. Now unfortunately my friends, that is true love.  

A/N:

Ugh, I hate that this happened so much. 

I hate boys sometimes! I really do. I had so many of these encounters (probably why I ended up writing this book) but honestly, it's so hurtful to like lead someone on and then be too embarrassed to tell your friends that you like them. 

But, to all of my fellow girls that have felt this, there IS someone out there :) I'm not happily married to the love of my LIFE who is obsessed with these curves!!! lol IT WILL HAPPEN. High school boys sucks. Even college boys until they grow tf up. 

Also, yay for this story reaching 300 reads! :) 

PLEASE COMMENT/VOTE <3

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