Wednesday: December 1st, 2016

Considering we broke up, I suppose I can't exactly call him my 'true love'. Besides, this story isn't really even about him. It just begins with him.

Also, he technically broke up with me the day before December began. But that doesn't mean I didn't feel the weight of his absence any less as the new day started.

When the alarm shrilled through my room on the first day of Christmas, I was blatantly reminded that I hadn't gotten a wink of sleep overnight. I had been too busy being in a state of denial. Too busy trying to not cry. Too busy restraining myself from calling him or texting him whereby I would beg him to change his mind. I was not going to be that girl. Because, ultimately, I didn't even want to date him in the first place.

Rowan Hart—with his stupidly mesmerising emerald eyes, and his ludicrous heart-stopping smile—had weaseled his way into my life two months ago despite my attempts to push him away. And then he just... Well, I guess I should just show you.

╔═══━━━─── ∘◦ ❈ ◦∘ ───━━━═══╗

Two Months Ago

I was in no way musically talented, nor was Jojo. But Ria was a virtuoso at the guitar.

We were an odd trio. Me with my pink hair. Ria with her half-blonde, half-blue hair, and Jojo with her jet black hair. Nonetheless, they were the closest friends I had.

Jojo and Ria were both the same age as me: seventeen. But considering I started my education in the UK, I was a year behind in school. So they'd be graduating this year while I would be stuck alone for another 365 days.

Most people would feel awkward being their third wheel (as Jojo and Ria had been dating for over a year now), but I liked feeling like their weird pet, the third musketeer, the friend they both shared.

"Do you have to graduate?" I whined to both of them when Ria had finished another song.

"I mean, I suppose I could sneak into the teacher's staffroom, steal our final papers, and feed them to my nieces," Jojo replied.

Grimacing, I said, "If I ever have kids, remind me to never let you look after them. How does your brother even trust you?"

"Sometimes he doesn't have a choice. I'm a great aunt anyway."

"I still can't believe you're an aunt," Ria muttered. "If they ever legalise gay marriage here, and we got married... that would make me an aunt, too. I'm too young for that." Ria shuddered and began plucking at the strings again to soothe her worries.

"Just how soon do you want to marry me, Ria?" Jojo asked, a giddy grin spreading across her face.

Cheeks slightly tinged with pink, Ria didn't respond to her.

"Anyway, back to my point," I said, disrupting the lovebirds. "You could just rip up your final essays, fail, and stay with me for another year. No need to harm the twins."

"You suck all the fun out of everything, Zazu," Jojo replied, shaking her head. I always hated that nickname she had given me, but alas, Jojo was still obsessed with Disney at the age of 17. "You fun sucker!"

"Okay, Jamie Lee Curtis."

Ria paused and looked up at me, eyebrows furrowed. "Who?"

"Don't tell me you haven't seen Freaky Friday."

"I have. But who?"

"The actress who plays the mum."

"Oh... yeah. Reference is lost on me." She turned back to her guitar.

But Jojo was talking again, energised by my conversation topic I had started. "How about I give you one of my rocks to replace us? George is a lot like me, and Joaquin... well..." She gave a shifty glance to Ria then leaned closer to me. "Joaquin totally has Ria's temper."

"Hey!" Ria scolded, but I just laughed. Because what nut job actually gets offended about a rock supposedly having a temper?

But before I could tell Jojo which of her rocks I would prefer, the door to our music room opened.

Honey blonde hair, glowing green eyes, and a dimpled smile stared at us as he glanced around the room. "Oh, you're not who I'm looking for," he suddenly said. "Have either of you seen Joe or Sarah?"

"I mean, normally I'm referred to as two Joes, but no clue who this Sarah is," Jojo said. The boy cocked his head to the side, clearly not getting her joke.

Stifling my giggle, I replied, "I think they're down the end of the hallway in the other room."

"Thanks... ah..." His brows furrowed as he studied me, clearly recognising me.

I heaved a sigh. "Really, Rowan? We've had classes together for four years now."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry."

"It's Zara."

"Zara." His eyes went over me again, a grin taking hold of his face. "I'll definitely remember your name now, Zara with the pink hair."

Rolling my eyes, I barely glanced at him as he exited the room, but Jojo immediately turned on me.

"He totally just checked you out," she gushed.

"Oh, do you know a lot about the male species and their interests in women now?" I shot back, feeling the heat slamming through my face. I would be lying if I said the idea of Rowan Hart ever checking me out didn't thrill me. He was... very easy on the eyes. But no way, for a second, would I fool myself into thinking that was a reality.

"No, definitely not. But that was as obvious as the seagulls at the Strand who loiter around pretending they don't want to steal your chips, but still end up fighting any other bird that tries to get too close to the chips, just hoping, praying you will drop one morsel."

"And that's... obvious?" I didn't quite follow the whole narrative.

Ria and Jojo both nodded at me.

Shrugging, I replied, "Well, I will never go there. Even if he did, in some strange universe, ask me out."

"Um, why?" Ria questioned. She never joined gossip about boys, but this time... "I may be gay, but that boy is gorgeous."

"Because he has dated almost every girl in my grade? I'd probably just be the last on his long list who he hasn't."

"Oh..." Jojo said, trailing off. "Well, as long as you go into it knowing it would be a fling... might be fun to lock lips with someone like that."

"Stop it. The both of you. You're supposed to be into women."

"He'd make a fine woman," Jojo sighed.

 ∘◦ ❈ ◦∘ 

Jojo and Ria both had music after me, so I was the first to exit the building. But as I made my way to my English class, I couldn't shake the feeling I was being followed.

One glance over my shoulder and I locked eyes with the honey-haired beauty. Sheepish grin on his face for getting caught, he quickened his pace until he was walking alongside me. "Zara with the pink hair," he greeted.

"Rowan the womaniser," I responded with a curt nod.

"Womaniser?" he scoffed, clearly offended.

I shrugged. "If we are picking the smallest attributes as labels, then that's the most I know about you."

"I'll have to work on correcting that label then," he muttered. "So, Zara, who is more than the pink hair... How would you define yourself?"

Shaking my head, I hoisted my bag higher over my shoulder and glanced his way. "As late to class. Bye Rowan."

 ∘◦ ❈ ◦∘ 

Yet for the next week, I couldn't seem to shake him. It's not like he was waiting for me outside of my classes or anything. But each time I coincidentally passed him in the undercover walkways, he'd immediately turn on his heel and start trying to strike up a conversation with me.

"What will it take to get your phone number? Or at least accept my friend request on Facebook?" he asked after the fifth day of his chase.

Coming to a stop, I turned to face him. "How do I say this nicely... I, um, don't fit your portfolio, Rowan." I figured he'd appreciate my reference to his art interests.

He cocked his head to the side. "My portfolio?"

"I'm not another one of your airheads ready for a fun time and putting out, okay?"

Arms crossing over his chest, his eyes narrowed. "That's not really fair on those women to describe them in such a way."

Shrugging, I replied, "I know you dated Paige, and, well... she still thinks it will be a cute idea to get a camel tattooed onto her toe. Without actually knowing the meaning behind it..."

"She was, um... a good kisser? I think... I can't really remember."

I scoffed. "Even you can't take some of them seriously."

"Look, I know I don't have a great track record, and perhaps you don't get along with a lot of the girls I dated. They're honestly really nice people though... even if they can be... dense."

"Thickheaded is more like it," I muttered.

"You're different though. Obviously much different from my exes, and, well, I find you really pretty and intriguing."

"You think dating the geek would be a fun experience to add to your resume?"

Pursing his lips, he took a step closer. "More that I think because you're different and see through a lot of that dumb shit... maybe this time it will be different for me. Maybe I won't just, I don't know... get bored. I mean, most were better than Paige, but... There's only so much Jersey Shore I can withstand hearing about."

I mocked vomiting sounds, and he laughed in response, taking another step closer. One more and our bodies would be touching.

"What do you say, Zara with the brains?" he whispered.

"I say..." Rolling my tongue in my mouth, I glanced to the ground momentarily. I so desperately wanted to swoon for those dazzling green eyes and that wicked smile. But I was smarter than this. Surely he'd only hurt me. Surely I'd be too boring for him when he realises I'm not a party goer... and that I'm not experienced in the relationship department. "I say that you don't know me, and you're trying to hit on me because, for some strange reason, you're attracted to me. And I say you're only interested because I'm one of the only girls not begging for you to date me."

Eyes narrowing, his hand came up, brushing a lock of my hair behind my ear. "Okay," he breathed. "I can get to know you first. But within the week, you'll say yes."

∘◦ ❈ ◦∘ 

I was sure I could avoid him. But as it turns out, Rowan lived only a street away from me. And in the previous week of him coincidentally running into me at school, he had seemed to learn this fact. So after our encounter that lunch when I tried to clearly shut him down, he waited at the front of the school, tagging right on my tail as I walked home.

At first I tried the 'ignore him' strategy. But his questions were relentless and stories hilarious. So then I gave in to his attempts to make conversation.

Oddly, he didn't try to flirt at any point. He asked about my interests in movies, shows, and music. Then shared his. He gave me 'would you rather' prompts. Asked me to play 'Never Have I Ever'. Each day was a new topic. Each day, he genuinely treated me like a friend.

Talking to him was easy. Walking with him was fun.

Which was why, by Friday, when we reached my house, I turned to him, face flushed and heart beating rapidly in my chest after realising what had happened within me over the past week.

He looked back at me, a knowing grin stupidly plastered on his face.

"So, Zara, who still likes Paramore, whose favourite Disney movie is Lilo and Stitch, who is into Marvel movies, and would rather have hands for feet than feet for hands... Will you go out with me?"

"I... I..." I tried so desperately to think up a witty response, but I had nothing. All I could think about was the word I wanted to scream. "Yes. Okay. Yes."

"Great." Then he closed the distance and pressed his lips to mine.

∘◦ ❈ ◦∘ 

Yesterday

Two-month Rowan had been his nickname. Every single girl always dumped him before the two month mark, no one lasting a day over. So when we ticked over a day, I was sure maybe we would be different. Sure, he had been more distant as the weeks went on. He didn't smile at me as often. He came over less frequently. He didn't call me before bed anymore. But I was certain we could be different. There was no way I was going to break up with him.

As I folded mum's clothes—because none of my old winter clothes from when I was thirteen fit me anymore—into my suitcase, a text came through.

Half of my body lit up at the idea that he was texting me again. Yet the other was fearful.

Rowan: We need to talk.

It's okay, Zara, I told myself as my heart pounded in my chest. He has never broken up with anyone before. Surely you won't be the first. He probably just wants to see you before you go.

When? I replied, anxiously watching the three dots appear and disappear.

Rowan: I'm outside your house right now. Can you come out?

Me: You can come in.

Rowan: Please come out.

Biting my cheek, I pocketed my phone and crept towards the front door.

Mum's eyes narrowed at me from the couch, her movie on the TV pausing. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Rowan wants to say goodbye to me, I think." Could she hear the unease in my voice?

"Okay... but not too late. You have to be awake by 7am missy. And I know that is terribly hard for you these days considering it's your holidays."

"I won't be long." And I ducked out of the house before she could say anything further.

The moment my eyes landed on his figure, my heart started to swell at the sight. I almost began to run towards him. But as I neared closer and his head that was turned towards the night sky lowered to look at me, my steps faltered.

Because his face said all about what was to come. The pity. The sadness. The boredom.

"You can come in," I mumbled.

"Let's go to the park," he replied, already walking away from me, hands shoved in his pockets.

We said nothing the whole way. It wasn't until we had reached the park and he pulled up one of the swing seats—me taking the other next to him—that he finally asked, "Excited for your flight tomorrow?" His tone lacked any care. He was just trying to ease me into it.

"Not really. I'm going to miss you," I tried, hoping I was misreading the situation.

He never looked at me. He just continued to awkwardly propel himself backwards and forwards through the force of his feet on the sand below.

Unable to take the silence, I whispered my deepest fears into the world, "Are you breaking up with me?"