I'm the girl you'd die for.
I'll chew you up and I'll spit you out.
'Cause that's what young love is all about.
So pull me closer and kiss me hard.
I'm gonna pop your bubblegum heart.
—Bubblegum Bitch by MARINA.

———•———

Clover Han was only sixteen when she broke her first heart.

She remembers every detail of it (she thinks); his name was Jacob and he was seventeen. He liked to vape underneath the bleachers during school hours and he had a way of making every sentence sound like poetry—crappy poetry but poetry nonetheless. They met one random day under the bleachers during Lunch; he was vaping instead of eating his ham sandwich and all she wanted was to eat her lunch without inhaling vanilla-scented nicotine.

She told him to stop vaping because "it makes you look like a poser, you ass" and in reply, he told her to make him stop if she had the balls.

So she did make him stop—she crawled over to him and kissed him long and hard, and they didn't stop kissing until the bell rang, forcing them to separate their lips from each other. They stared at each other for a moment, not really knowing what to do or what to say. Clover left first, leaving behind her lunch and Jacob, dazed and a bit confused.

After that day, it became a kind of routine.

They'd meet under the bleachers and make-out whenever they could—during short breaks, after school, during Lunch. The 'relationship' was never official because it never extended beyond their stolen moments under the bleachers but it didn't stop Jacob from falling in love with her.

He told her he loved her through a poem he handed over to her underneath the bleachers.

Clover can't remember most of what it said but she recalls he compared her kisses to nicotine and he used the word 'addiction' seven times in three verses. She remembers how he watched her read it with hope in his eyes, clutching his juul like a lifeline. She remembers how she kissed him before she shattered that hope, and she especially remembers the rush of exhilaration she got from seeing the light dim in his eyes.

That euphoric rush...she remembers it so vividly. She couldn't forget it if she tried.

Clover is nineteen now and she's in the middle of breaking yet another heart. It's a different person and a different timeline but she knows that the feeling of exhilaration she got all those years ago won't be altered.

She knows it makes her sound like a monster but she swears she's not. Some people are addicted to drugs, some are addicted to work and she's...well, she's addicted to the feeling she gets when she breaks someone's heart. There's something intoxicating about it and she can't explain it but it's not an addiction she's ready to quit—at least, not yet.

Which is sad—or at least, it is for her latest victim.

"I don't understand," Sasha Omar whispers as she stares at Clover, confused. "Why are you doing this?"

They're sitting in a booth in a little coffee shop not too far from campus. On the table in front of Sasha is a plate of half-eaten cake and in Clover's hands is a mug of hot chocolate.

Clover shrugs a shoulder and keeps her face perfectly blank as she watches Sasha. She takes a sip from her cup. "Do I need to give a reason?"

Sasha blinks. "Are you kidding me right now, babe?"

Again, Clover shrugs. "No, I'm not. I really want to break up with you."

Sasha shakes her head slowly. "I still don't understand. You called me here, a day before our four-month anniversary, to break up with me?"

"Pretty much, yeah. I didn't want to do it through text," Clover smiles. "I mean, I'm not that much of an asshole."

"You...aren't?"

Clover rolls her eyes. This breakup isn't going as planned. Usually, there's tears and lots of name-calling but all she's getting from Sasha are incomplete sentences and doe-eyed stares. "I'm not. It's just, it's been almost three months and I'm tired of pretending."

"Pretending?" Sasha echoes and Clover notices, with a pleased smile, that she's frowning now, no longer looking quite so lost. "You love me. You said so yourself. You said you wanted a future with me and you weren't pretending when you said that. Also, I know damn well that you don't fake your orgasms with me."

Clover isn't a theater major but she knows how to act a part. She knows how good of an actress she can be. She knows how to appear like she's in love and she's skilled in the art of making her audience believe it too. So really, she can only take Sasha's assessment as a compliment because that's what she wanted Sasha to see.

But the charade is over, and she needs Sasha to see the truth.

"Sex with you is good. Big whoop," Clover laughs and then drops her still full mug of hot chocolate on the table. "You don't know me as well as you believe, Sasha. I lied. Our relationship was honestly just a facade."

"This doesn't make sense. You can't just break up with me."

"Why not?" Clover rolls her eyes, and annoyance seeps into her tone. She glares at Sasha for extra emphasis. "I don't love you so I don't have to be with you, do I?"

There's something exhilarating—addicting—about ripping someone's heart in two. It's addicting to own someone's heart, and it's almost empowering to know you can shatter it in so many different ways—a callous word here, a reckless action there.

It's even better when you use the truth to do it.

Tears gather in Sasha's eyes and Clover laps up the sight.

"This has to be a nightmare," Sasha shakes her head. "You don't mean that."

Not for the first time but certainly for the last, Clover stares at Sasha and remembers why she ever bothered to pursue her in the first place. She's pretty in a way that makes you stare; with her big eyes and pouty lips and skin just as dark as the forgotten hot chocolate sitting in a mug between them. She's pretty in a way that makes you want to keep seeing her face day after day, and she's pretty despite the mascara tinted tears rolling down her face.

Clover is tempted to kiss her face, just one last time. For old time's sake.

But she doesn't. Instead, she stands and adjusts the book bag hanging on her shoulder. "I'll see you around."

"So you're really doing this. Throwing away four months like it was nothing to you. Like you didn't just waste my time," a strained laugh escapes Sasha's lips, and Clover notices the way some people look over at them.

Clover has always liked making a scene but today, she isn't in the mood to get hot chocolate over all her clothes. She shrugs, pulling out a five-dollar bill from the pocket of her jeans. She places it underneath the mug. "I did try to love you, I really did. But I just couldn't. You can't blame me for that."

"For four fucking months?" Sasha cackles and Clover decides she's gotten enough satisfaction from Sasha's tears, and from the whole situation in general.

"I'm leaving now. I have a class," she turns away and walks, ignoring the stares from strangers. She's about to exit when she hears it loud and clear.

"You're a monster, Clover."

Her hand is already on the handle and all she has to do is push and she would be gone but Clover pauses. All eyes are on her now—she can practically feel them glaring holes into her soul—but she stands her ground and turns around to face Sasha. Sasha stares back at her with bloodshot eyes, trembling.

In her weaker moments, Clover Han does believe she's a monster.

By monster, she doesn't mean the kind she grew up learning about like Disney villains or Godzilla or even killer clowns. She sometimes believes she's a monster because there are different types, and someone doesn't have to throw life-altering curses or tear down monuments or commit homicide to gain the title.

Sometimes, being a monster could mean luring people with the promise of a happy ever after only to shatter it in one moment without any remorse.

Being a monster could also mean building something—like a relationship—with the sole purpose of destroying it.

And Clover is much too aware of this; being a monster could especially mean gaining pleasure from watching someone love you while knowing you can, and will never, return the feeling.

So yes, in her weaker moments, Clover Han does believe she's a monster.

Now, however, isn't one of those moments.

She grins at Sasha, exposing perfectly straightened teeth and winks. "Then you're in love with a monster," she says.

And with lighter shoulders and a spring in her step, she pushes the glass door and steps out of the coffee shop and metaphorically, the ruins of yet another relationship.

———•———

After Jacob, there was Tanner, Tyler, Ashley, and...and then, Clover started to think there was something wrong with her.

She didn't understand why she found it hard to feel love for the people who openly showered her with affection. She didn't understand why she kept up the charade of loving the person either way. And she didn't understand why she enjoyed seeing tears fill their eyes when she finally ended these charades—why she found it so exciting to watch them crumble to pieces, to beg for her love, to be hurt over the idea of not owning her heart.

She read multiple articles—20 Signs You're A Psychopath—and took several online quizzes—Are You A Sociopath?—in her quest for answers. She read them all and marked them all and ultimately decided that online quizzes could never be accurate anyway.

She couldn't be a psychopath and she definitely couldn't be a sociopath. She didn't have 'superficial charm' like the articles claimed she would (if she was psychopathic or sociopathic) and she didn't have a lack of 'realistic long term goals' either (she's a communications major for goodness sake, she wants to be a media personality). She doesn't have a criminal record or the urge to commit a crime, and the fact that she sometimes gets the urge to do something and she actually goes through with it doesn't mean she's a psychopath.

She's just impulsive when she's bored, and she's just a girl who gets a cheap thrill from breaking hearts. That's all there is to it. That's all there will ever be to it.

It doesn't make her a psychopath, it doesn't make her a sociopath and it definitely does not make her a monster. She just hasn't met the right person yet—the person that will make her fall in love with them and out of her cheap thrill. The person who will make her want to stop breaking hearts but instead, inspire her to nurture them instead. The person who will—

Scalding hot liquid spills all over her and with dismay, she vaguely smells coffee.

She absolutely hates coffee.

Vaguely, she realizes karma must be real and she's even more of a bitch than her reputation preaches. Smelling like hot chocolate would have been much better than smelling like coffee.

"Fuck!" she screams and jumps away. She's on campus grounds now but she's still so far away from her dorm building and she has a lecture in less than ten minutes. "What the—"

"Sorry," a voice rumbles, but there isn't an inflection of remorse in it. "You should watch where you're going."

"I should watch where I'm going?" Clover hisses and she looks up at her offender. "I will literally—"

She stops talking as she takes in the boy in front of her who only stares down at her with a look of impassiveness.

He's tall—much taller than her—with a chiseled face, pale skin, and blond hair. His eyes are blue with dark shadows underneath it, and his clothes match the haunted expression in his eyes.

"You will literally what?" the boy drawls, and Clover realizes his voice isn't quite so annoying now that she can match it to a pretty face. He raises an eyebrow when she doesn't speak. "You'll compensate me for my coffee?"

Clover finds her voice and decides his voice is nauseating. "Compensate you?"

"It's not my fault you weren't watching where you were going," he holds up his styrofoam cup and shakes it. "This is all on you."

Karma isn't the only bitch around, it seems. Clover frowns. "All on me huh?"

The boy rolls his eyes and shakes his head, dropping the cup to the floor. The remaining contents of the cup splash and land on Clover's legs and shoes, and she sees red as he sidesteps her and continues on his way.

In a split second, she makes her decision and turns to look at the retreating figure of the boy.

"Let me buy you a coffee!" she shouts and she plasters a smile on her face as he turns to face her with raised eyebrows. "It's the least I could do, right?"

The boy continues to stare at her suspiciously and Clover keeps smiling as thoughts of her lecture fade away, one goal in mind.

She's being impulsive, she knows. She's never tried jumping straight into another relationship quite so soon after one ends but then again, breaking a heart has never been personal to her before. It has always just been for fun.

And this one is personal. Very personal. But she has a feeling it's also going to be extremely fun.

The boy finally turns around to face her completely and shrugs. "Yeah, I guess. It's the least you could do."

Her smile widens.

She really can't wait to break this bastard's heart.

———•———

A/N:

Um. Clover is tripping. Coffee is life, what??

Thank you so much for reading. It took such a long time for me to finally get the hang of this writing format and post so I hope you enjoyed it.

As always, feel free to tell me what you think in the comments. Constructive criticism is always welcome.

Thank you again, and I love you ♡