"Sometimes... Sometimes our hearts crack a little."
-Jodi Ashton

C H A P T E R 0 1| Through Lost Hopes

I was certain that the very first thing to catch my attention on the opening day of my Senior year would be a creamy brown haired tall, handsome boy, whom I was dreading whole summer.

Our brown eyes of the same shade would meet for a split second, then both of us would remember that we've already broken up; and we would awkwardly head our own ways.

I had imagined this day over and over in my mind all summer, trying to think of ways to face him and not want to dive six feet under the ground at the same time.

So when I actually entered the school premises, anticipation weaving inside my stomach almost like fear, I tried not to look up at the faces. The more I'd stare, the more I'd be looking for him.

To look for your ex-boyfriend on the very first day of your senior year wasn't a good idea. But actually, I wanted to look up. I wanted to find that face that had meant everything to me for the past two years. We had officially broken up; but for some reason, I still couldn't break up with him on my mind.

"Eloine...wait."  Stacey's loud, high pitched voice broke me from my daze. I turned around. She was screaming my name from behind and was running towards me in a way that told me there must be some bad news. When she reached me, she panted heavily for a while, putting her hands on either sides of my shoulders.

"Wh-what's wrong?"

"Have you heard?...Oh my God, I am so sorry." She exclaimed, in between catching her breath.

"What? I did not hear anything."

I never did. Stacey was there to feed me on latest school gossips and rumors. She was the gossip girl of our school.

She got to know all the interesting gossips before everyone else -which teacher was getting married, which senior had made out with the sophomore girl, who was sleeping with whom, which bad boy had played a prank on Mr. Turner, who had passed out in class, etcetera.

"Andrew has left school."

I felt something heavy settle down my chest. "What?"

"And moved to New York. Last week."

"What?" I spoke again.

"You heard me."

There were these moments in life when you anticipated something bad, but in reality, something way worse happened. Like I had been worried how things would turn up between me and Andrew, my ex-boyfriend, after our break up a few months ago. But in reality, he had picked up his bags and heart, and all the memories, and left the town for good.

Honestly, I had never seen this coming. People like Andrew and I had lived in Islaire town almost all our lives. People like us did not just leave town just like that.

"How...What the..." I stuttered through my words, suddenly not knowing what to say.

"Come, let's go." I was frozen to my place, and she motioned me to move.

"He can't leave," I finally managed to spit out.

I was in complete denial.

I had so much to ask that I lost track of my questions. The only stupid thing that came out was, "How do you know?"

Which was indeed the stupidest thing to ask. Of course she always knew everything.

Stacey gave me that seriously-you-are-asking-me-this-question look and I chose not to interrogate her more on that.

"So, uhh..he would stay with his parents now?" I asked, not trying to sound curious. Though I knew I was poorly failing at my attempt.

"Apparently, yes."

"But he used to tell me.." I corrected myself, "I mean, I thought he didn't like his parents."

"I don't know. Maybe he is looking for a better school, to get a better college later.. I don't know. I don't know." She had a habit of repeating sentences when she could not find a suitable answer.

"But what about his grandparents?" I complained.

"Really?" She raised an eyebrow. "You're thinking about his grandparents now?"

"No, but they were kind of nice."

On the rare moments Andrew chose to speak of his parents, hate used to be evident in his voice. Both his parents were rich businesspersons. They never had much time to raise their son, so they had left him to his grandparents when he was young.

When we were together, I had visited his grandparents a few times. They seemed very simple people. I used to like them.

"I think they'll get over it, you know. Andrew had to leave for college in an year anyway. What's the big deal?" Stacey just shrugged.

Many students were waving at us and saying 'hi' as we were proceeding towards our class.

Not at us, at Stacey.

She was waving back with a genuine smile at each of them, a few strands of her sleek blonde hair falling to her face in the process.

Stacey had a large number of friends. Apart from being the gossip girl, she was also an amazing friend. Not only mine, but of many others.

She was whom you could definitely label as beautiful. Ocean blue eyes that seemed to pair beautifully with her eyelashes; long, sleek blonde hair that fell all over her perfectly tanned skin, and the perfect dresses that only showed the right amount of skin to make her look sexy.

The only flaw in her probably was that she was overweight. And sometimes, when were pulling each other's legs, I'd even playfully taunt her about her weight.

I didn't know if she got hurt, though. She was a master at masking emotions, much like me.

Among Stacey's friends group, there were at least 60% boys. I liked to think she sometimes wished a few of them would actually regard her as someone more than a friend, but they didn't. And as much as I wanted to feel bad for her, I didn't. The day the right guy would come, he would accept her for who she was.

"It's so sudden," I wondered out loud when we entered an already filled Calculus classroom. Fortunately, Ms. Joanna had not arrived yet. "Andrew..I still can't believe it."

Stacey gave me a sad smile. She was so far the only person who understood my exact feelings for Andrew. "Elo, I think it's the best for the two of you."

"Ah, quit calling me Elo already!"

I really hated when people tried to cut down my name into shorter syllables like Elo or Elle. Yes, I possessed a 'big' name; but could people not respect that?

They couldn't. Despite my constant corrections and arguments, Stacey continued calling me 'Elo'; maybe it was her way of getting back at me for calling her a 'foodpanda'.

Once in class, we took our seats, settled down, opened our textbooks, and did not talk about Andrew Evanston again. Needless to say, that didn't block my thoughts about him.

I knew it was not fair to regret. Especially when it was I who had stood behind every wrong thing that had happened between us.

Sighing, I looked around. People had changed. The pride of finally becoming 'seniors' was evident in their faces. The tall boys had grown even taller than last time, many girls had changed their clothing styles. I even found a popular girl, Emma, having cut her hair short and highlighted it in bright pink to symbolize her punk attitude.

I always found myself very detached from them. I was shy, and quiet, but it was not completely that. I could never connect to any of them. I was always the odd one.

I would not say I could connect greatly with Andrew either. We were very different people. He was the handsome football player, the popular boy, the rich kid.

I was his opposite. I didn't participate in anything other than the compulsory classes. I was scarcely known to even the guy sitting next to me, and my family was barely financially stable.

We were different, but understood each other very well. And only that was a lot more than what I could ever ask for.

Maybe that's why I was finding it so difficult to digest he had completely forgotten about us, and had left.

And maybe that was also why I started striking up conversations with his friends, who I barely ever talked to, trying to figure out reasons behind his sudden departure.

No one knew anything.

Something stranger started happening. Every creamy brown hair, dark black pair of eyes, every loud footstep, or playful smile -and I'd turn around and that stupid hope would kindle up that maybe, just maybe, he would show up.

But of course, he did not. A disgusting thought was running through my mind; perhaps his departure had everything to do with me.

Perhaps he was finally moving on.. And the worse thing was I couldn't accept it.

By the end of the day, I was feeling sick. Every person seemed to look like him, every comment or action reminded me of him. I felt like the mouse that ran desperately through the wheel in hopes of getting out-but found no exit.

Up until now I had somehow felt things could be fixed between us; but now it was too late. I wondered if this was the real heartbreak, and not the one I experienced when were broke up.

Probably my face was flinched-reflecting the condition of the inside-because when I was in the parking lot, I found a hand on my shoulder, patting me soothingly. It was Peter, one of my closest friends.

"Hey, you all right?"

"Yeah," I lied.

"No, something must be bothering you." As I said, I was good at hiding emotions. But Peter always found out.

"It just feels strange that Andrew left, you know."

"Hmm I know, buddy. It's really sudden. He did not even say anything to me."

Andrew and Peter were best friends since middle school. In fact it was Peter who introduced us in the first place when we joined Islaire High. "No call or anything?"

"No," he nodded, defending his answer.

"Oh."

"I'll see you tomorrow then, Eloine?"

"Yeah. Bye, Peter."

Bidding him goodbye, I ignited the engine of my car. After school, I always came to the Riverwater park. As much my father kept complaining about this, he could not stop me from coming here. See, this was my only escape.

And for the first time, sitting there in the park could not make me feel better in the slightest way.

I could not stop thinking about the past. Each recurring image of the good old days felt like a pang on the chest.

Finally the realization was hard. I loved him. I loved him way too much to let him go.

And slowly all the anger, questions, and doubts, started venting out of my eyes in the form of hot, aching tears-piercing through my eyes like blades on skin. Tears of guilt, regret, and grief. A throbbing pain formulated in my throat.

I cried and cried.

That was, until I noticed a very skinny and mysterious figure approaching me in slow, steady steps.

*****

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This is the very beginning of the book, the story will pick up pace with time. So, I hope you will continue. Thank you.

P.s. I had felt just that much insanity.

P.p.s. dear readers, do ignore my p.s. notes; they are just notes to self, reminding myself of a time.