EVE: A Short Unforgettable Love Story

Chapter Five

Isabella Madden POV

The day that I have been waiting for, came-Monday. It’s January 12, 1981. The sun seemed to shine even brighter, birds sang a little louder. My heart leap in each passing of time. Today is a special day. Before I left the house, I ate my annual fluffy pancakes with chocolate syrup, and my parents made me wish on a numbered candle on top of my birthday cake and gave me a couple of presents and sweet kisses. I had picked out my favorite red dress, and showered my floral perfume, with an extra three pumps on my curly brown hair.

The moment I stepped onto the floor of the hallway, I waited for him. He promised me he’s going to give back the umbrella today. My friends who pass by greet me ‘happy birthday’. Thirty minutes passed by; he still didn’t show up. Before I went to class, I left a note on his locker saying, ‘it’s my birthday- Isabella’. I walked inside the class, still bouncing with vibrant energy. People seemed a little nicer today. They smile and greeted me. I went at the library and Cafeteria after class, with great hope and anticipation that he’s there. The thoughts of him, greeting me with a sweet smile unravels thousands of butterflies on my stomach. I sat there alone with an enormous wave of excitement for hours.

The clocked ticked, but the delirious feeling in each strike slowly getting heavier. He didn’t show up. It’s noon, I waited for him outside the campus entrance for an hour before the school closes. I still couldn’t see him. Night came. My excitement curdled into a tight knot of disappointment, like a balloon deflated, like an ice cream melted.

Three days passed. I wasn’t mad at him. I was just saddened. The days after my birthday a crushing realization settled in; he doesn’t care. And with that realization came a far more painful one; I didn’t matter to him. It was an oversight, clear, obvious statement in my head, and I couldn’t ignore it any longer. No matter what I do, he would never see me the way I see him.

A week after my birthday, I saw him at the hallway talking with a girl. I didn’t know her name, but I have seen her a couple times with him. I want to ignore him and walk past through him like he usually does, but I couldn’t. Instead, I approached him.

“Kellan, can we talk?” I walked outside the school and he followed. All eyes were glued on us, but I ignored them.

“What do you wanna talk about? “He spoke, cold. I was filled with audacity and confidence minutes ago, but when he asked that question, I didn’t know what to respond. What do I want to talk about? Why am I angry? Why am I acting like I needed his explanation for not knowing that it’s my birthday?

I sighed, completely overwhelmed by disappointment. “I like you, Kellan.” It should’ve been a nerve ending confession. But I felt blue, I felt a profound sense of losing because deep inside, I know his possible answer. He just stood in front of me, but somehow, he wasn’t looking surprise. A terrifying vulnerability washed over me as I stared at him. “I like you for months now. I didn’t even know why I really like you. I didn’t even know if it’s because of how cool you are when you play chess. How I like your curly hair or your smile? Or how you talk so short, yet precise? I don’t know, Kellan. But I like you. I like you for making me feel this way. I am mad seeing you always talking to that girl. I am sad because you didn’t care if it was my birthday. I am upset because no matter what I do, you will never really notice me. You k****e every ounce of emotions in me. You’re making me crazy, Kellan. So, just tell me if you don’t like then I will stop.”

“I don’t. So, please stop.” He replied so quickly that it got me, dumbfounded and dishearten at the same time. I was left voiceless, trying hard to not weep with tears. Then, I left him.

Seeing him at that moment before I left, the spotlight that I have always seen in him began to dim and flicker. I cannot blame him; I expected so much. I have written the beginning and the ending of our story in my head, published it, expecting it to magically happen in the real world, but it would never exist. It’s bittersweet to think that for the first time in fourteen years he let me feel more alive. But also, for the first time in fourteen years he let me feel colorless and devastated.