☯ anything w madeline i'm interested in how you view all that
you / me - maybe we were never meant to be! // accepting!
‘ chloe and jake broke up last week. ’ even in the summer, i’m never free from my gossip-hungry classmates, every night of the week, i lock every door in my house ( and double check that all shutters are closed, and then make sure the locks are functional. ) and then i leave to party, to drink, to spend time with the people i care about, and the girl i love. it’s just a pity i can’t really keep the girl i love happy. chloe and i argue… about twice a week- no, day, i’d guess. it’s always something i said, or something i did, and then we’d argue. the texts always look the same.
message received!my baby 💖💖💖we’re broken up now don’t talk to me xo
message sent!ok
i would fight harder, if i could find it in myself to really care. i feel bad about it sometimes- chloe’s a lovely girl, i’m sure of it ( sometimes. ), but it’s just… jeez. i feel bad when i wake up after bad nights with her next to me, and i’m covered in hickeys from a girl i could never really love. i don’t think i could love anyone properly. and even though i know it’s bad, the way i act doesn’t seem to deter anyone. it’s just a fact, my dick rings truer and taller than my reputation as a smart kid, as someone who’s part of a million extra curriculars. as a kid, anything chaste kind of… went rough, so to speak. remember laughing with your friends about kissing some girl at the middle school dance ? i did that too, but then only a month into freshman year and i’ve got my jeans half-undone around my hips, and some girl pressed close up against me in an empty classroom, because that’s where most kids go, if most kids are me. because only i could be so impossibly cool as to have sex in a classroom. of course.
so chloe and i are rocky, so what? it’s the same thing every few months, and i want to fix it, but also, i don’t care. so. there’s that little thing stopping me. so what do i do after sending that text ? i go out. of course i do. i love going out. it’s midday and the food court in menlo has got to be buzzing at this point, maybe i can catch up with some friends over steaming pizza, maybe i can wave hi to my co-workers, maybe i can get some work done, or-… maybe i can meet another girl. and i do that for a week. and then i meet madeline.
madeline is a nice girl. she’s french ( ? ) and she talks to me in this weird way, always playing with her hair, or her jewelry, which is cool by me, i’m just sat with my arms over the back of my chair. when the conversation begins to run a little thin, i make the offer to go to the arcade- just to play games. it’s not a date, it’s just a hanging out thing, even though i know the school- if anyone sees us, people would assume otherwise. whatever, right ? chloe and i are broken up.
so i take madeline to the arcade- she’s funny, she kind of sucks at the games, but most people i know that go here do, because who’s so much of a loser that they just hole up in here ? no offense to the nerds, but the place isn’t that awesome. so we play games, i kick ass at the crane machine and we play a killer game of air hockey, i coerce her onto the electric chair, and snapchat her screaming. chloe’s gonna see, but who cares ? we’re not together, she can’t get mad if we’re not together. because we aren’t. and she’s not talking to me. we’ll get back together when she gives the say-so.
the arcade games last until maybe five, and then we’re bored, so i take her back to my house. my house isn’t the best place to go, but it’s got a pool table, and i can spend a little longer with someone, at least. i notice the little panic in her eyes when our conversations dry up, because that’s what happens when jake dillinger of all people picks you off his list of adoring fans to hang out with- you want to keep me for as long as possible. i understand. i guess. so i play pool with madeline. we talk, make jokes with each other and flirt. i don’t know what makes me ask- she’s a nice girl, but… god, i’m some unholy incarnation of the world’s worst fuckboy. chloe and i are barely over a week, and i’m already here trying to dig into mads. so i raise my eyebrows and point my pool stick up in the direction of my bedroom- universal code for ‘ hey, wanna fuck ? ’, or at least, as close as it can get. and i wait. i don’t get nervous, but it’s a little awkward for the second that passes between us.
madeline must have already heard about chloe and me, because she says that she’ll only do it with me if i win at pool. which is a foolish challenge to give to me, because i’m a total boss as pool. and i do go easy on her, but jesus, madeline really sucks at pool. i can’t even be nice about it, because she’s just… bad at it. so i win at pool. which is cool.
i can’t even say the sex is bad. because it isn’t. like-.. it’s sex. sex is sex, wow. madeline leaves two hickeys, one on my chest, to the right of my sternum, and then the other one is on my collarbone. she’s all.. girl. you know how girls are, with their really pretty hair and their nice mouths, and just… being good. i don’t know. girls, dude. girls.
… i don’t know, after madeline takes her stuff and leaves, i just feel… bad. i feel like i’ve done something wrong- chloe and i broke up a week ago, so i shouldn’t feel bad. but i do. i feel bad. because chlo is… she’s not my girlfriend right now, but… i’m, like… hers. i guess. i guess i won’t say anything unless people ask. and people will ask. everyone always knows when jake dillinger’s been in bed. it may as well be on page three of the daily news.














