Chapter 2: Chapter 1.1
Helpless by: Evangeline Summers.
I stand helplessly against the wooden door frame watching the most vomit inducing scene unfold in front of me. My best friend -now ex-best friend- and my boyfriend -now ex-boyfriend- making out on my bed, in my house on my 15th birthday.
"Best birthday present ever", I semi yell sarcastically finally gaining their attention.
"E-Evangeline?" My ex-boyfriend stammer mortified. He turns pale.
"No, Emma Watson", I reply sarcastically attempting to get the horrific scenario out of my head but it keeps replaying like a video on loop.
"Its not what it looks like", Max and Dawn say in unison.
"You say that every time, I'm human too. I have feelings too. I also have a heart..." I pause trying to fight back the tears which threaten to spill. I pinch the palm of my hand and furiously blink them back. "I also have a heart, I'm not some emotionless toy that you can play around with Max Heesters. Please leave." I continue.
"Are you dumping me? Cause I decide when we break up", Max shouts.
"Oh, really, who are you? You filthy son of a b-", before I can control myself my palm makes contact with his cheek. "This is how it feels to get dumped."
Dawn chuckles. "Hope you have the worst birthday ever, Evan."
I give my boyfriend -or ex-boyfriend- another bitter laugh. "So you were two timing with my best friend?", I deadpan clenching my fists to try and stop myself from another hard slap across his cheek. "What was it? Was it the hair? The clothes? Was it because I never wore dresses or high heels or skirts? Was it because I never acted like a decent girl or was it because I'm not curvy or beautiful? What was it Max?"
"I-I didn't mean to hurt you", His demeanor changes.
"You mean you didn't expect me to find out", I laugh bitterly.
"No I m-."
"Just shut up", My bottom lip quivers and my voice trembles. In this instant I hate how vulnerable I sound. I hate how weak I feel and I hate how I can physically feel my heart break into countless pieces and fragments.
"You know as cliche as this sounds , Max I really thought we had something special. You were the first boy who taught me how to be myself, to have fun, to love myself. You were the first boy who taught me how to ditch the rules and be free." I paused holding back the obnoxious sobs which threatened to release.
"You know what? GET. OUT. OF. MY. HOUSE", I yell through gritted teeth.
"Whats the noise darling?", my moms footsteps echo through the practically empty hallway. I didn't want her to see me like this; weak and vulnerable.
"Just found my boyfriend cheating on me with my best friend", I summarize plastering a a fake smile on my face.
"Poor darling, there's more fish in the sea. Don't let two bad apples ruin your day.", My mom pats my head comforting me like I'm a little kid who just dropped her favorite candy on the floor.
"Now, you two", My mom turns around to face them. "Please get out of my house, while I'm still being nice", She says in a steely tone.
"Honey buns, double fudge chocolate brownie with choco chips comin' right up", My mom engulfs me in a bear hug as she senses my tears.
The tears I was sure that I was going to run out of soon enough, are still rolling down my cheekbones and I fail to inhale due to my rapid breathing due to crying. I felt horrible, miserable maybe even hypocritical for being so dramatic, weak and pathetic. I hated myself for crying.
"Honey", my mom embraces me as I cry into her shirt. "Cupcake, these things happen. Heartbreak, love, hate, conspiracies, animosity, breakups, failure; its all part of life. These problems, emotions and regrets are here to make you stronger. These are hurdles that you must overcome in order to become stronger and confident. They play a crucial role in shaping you to become who you will be in the future. So don't be ashamed to cry. Crying is a beautiful emotion and it shows that you've been strong for a really long time. Don't be afraid to cry, it doesn't show that you are vulnerable, it just shows that you've fought against every challenge life threw at you. I promise that I'll always be here to listen", my mom pats my head as I continue sobbing.
Did I mention that my mom is the most amazing person ever. The fashionista, table turner, scientist, feminist and the prettiest woman on this planet. I don't live with my dad (Richard Summers) or my foster brother (Carter Owen Rhodes Summers) not because my parents are divorced, its just due to business reasons. Besides I do get to see them during summer vacation and winter break.
My mom is a chemical engineer, my dad is an ophthalmologist and Carter is a second year cardiology student at Cambridge. Every eye surgery I've seen makes me want to gag.
"Cheer up butter-wings", she hands me a bowl of ice cream and I dig in. My mom comes up the weirdest nicknames for me. Butter-wings, cupcake, queenie, cutie pie, ice cream, donut, chocolate; just to name a few. "Dad called and you were crying over a biscuit."
"Why is Max a biscuit?" I shove a spoonful of the creamy goodness into my mouth. Delicious~
"Don't forget to call your dad and Carter", mom reminds, grabbing the keys from her purse.
"Where are you off to?"
"To the lab, something urgent came up."
"But its my birthday", I whine.
"Oh hunny-bunny. How about a midnight feast and loads and loads of movies?" She negotiates.
"No documentaries on chemical reactions, locusts, the animal kingdom or on human evolution?" I ask just to make sure. I don't know about you, but I'm not going to spend my birthday watching documentaries on chemical reactions and animals.
"No documentaries", she assures me. "Bye bubblegum." The door shuts with a click and I peer through the window catching a glimpse of her petite figure waving me goodbye. I watch her white SUV disappear from my sight.
I lean on the wooden door, little did I know it was all going to disappear from my sight sooner or later.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
xThePizzaLoverx
xThePizzaLoverx Like I said before: you've been warned. This is my first online novel as a thirteen year old so there will be ton of mistakes. And yes this story did start of with a cliche.
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