"If you say, I love you, then you have already fallen in love with language, which is already a form of break up and infidelity." - Jean Baudrillard.

    If only I had been more careful. I was played like an instrument. I was used for his entertainment. Love officially sucks.
Maybe I should be a nun. Then at least I would not have to deal with dumb players.
I sat with my head between my knees for a long time before I felt someone sit next to me.
"Detention?" I asked.
"No," said a voice that did not belong to Isaac. "I do wish I punched him, though," he said.
"Oh, it's you," I mumbled tightening my grip on my knees.
"Glad you're excited to see me," Dylan remarked.
A long silenced passed between us.
"Why? Why did you do it?" I asked.
"Cheat, you mean? I was a jerk who couldn't see what an amazing girl I had."
"Why me? Why is it always me? Just when I begin to care for someone, they cheat! I know I'm not the type of girl to just throw my virginity at every guy, but it's not like I don't kiss 'em!" I ranted angrily.
"Iwasscaredyouwouldleaveme." Dylan said so fast I couldn't make anything out.
"What?" I ask turning my head to look at him. His head was low, his fringed hair dangling messily in front of his face. He let out a sigh before his emerald green eyes met my watery blue ones.
"I was scared that you would leave me. So I decided to make myself a back up, some idiot for me to go to when you left, but it became the reason you left. And that's what killed me. It killed me that I was the reason we broke up. That I was the reason you sat on the curb in the downpour. That I was the reason you cried. That I am the reason this is so much harder for you." His eyes began to filled with tears as he watched them fall from mine.
"I never kissed her, you know," he said. "I haven't kissed anyone since you. I will never kiss anyone but you. You were the one, Meg. And I pushed you away." His hand reached out to wipe away my tears, but he pulled it back and walked away.
I watched as he walked back into school,his wings drooping. I was left to think about what he has told me.
He was scared that I would leave.

I slowly unfurled my wings from around my shoulders and got up, shifting my bag onto my shoulders. I trudged over to the office and found Isaac sitting in a chair with an ice pack on his knuckles.
"That bad, huh?" I teased slipping into the seat next to him.
"Tristan's face must be made of brick or something!" Isaac complained.
I chuckled. "Detention?"
"Warning, and a long talking too," he said dragging out the "o" in long.
"Warning?!" I asked perplexed. I mean he really hit Tristan.
"They're blaming my actions on our recent adventure."
"What ever happened to the police chase? I mean they just stopped looking."
"Clearly you haven't been watching the news." I tilted my head in confusion. "We are off the hook because they assume it was just a weekend we spent partying that went wrong."
"So that's why all my teacher are looking at me funny."
"Basically, yes."
"Hmm." I guess I just need to be a good girl from now on.
"I'm sure the authorities are not to pleased with us, anyway."
"Probably not..." my voice faded as the tv they kept in the office went off. A banner reading "Breaking News: murder in the city" swept across the screen. I shifted on my heels.
"A new investigation has opened up as father and husband, Franklin Maincan, was found murdered in his home." A gasp left my mouth as the reporter continued on. "The investigation is going slow but it seems that the assailant was known by Maincan. Further updates will be given as the police find more information."
Tristan's father is dead. Does Tristan know?
"No..." I gasped as a thought protruded my mind.
"Meg, didn't Tristan have all his book bags?" I turned to Isaac.
"Yeah, why?"
"His book bag was at home. He didn't have it at the cabin."
My eyes widened. "You don't think he...?"
"Think about it. He arrived at this school and a week in he asks you out, barely ever talking to you previously." He began his facing twisting in astonishment as he figured everything out. "He somehow knows where to find us at that farm. He asked me to help him open his vault. He mysteriously falls out of contact with us. The next day his father is dead. I mean how much do we really know about Tristan?"
"I didn't even know he lived in that part of town. I mean he has an Aston Martin and a cabin."
"Are we sure their his?"
"Are you telling me that we were in a stolen cabin for days?" I asked stunned by the ideas floating through my head.
"Quite possibly, yes."
"So, Tristan m-ki-harmed his father?"
"He did more than harm." Isaac chuckled.
"I really picked a bad guy to date."
"Sure did." He remarked.