We met at the age of three, when he first came to our neighborhood. I don"t remember it clearly, but my mother says so.I remember we went to kindergarten together a year later, and that was when it all began.
At the age of five, he told me he liked me, and I did too, but he left me on the same day for another girl.
I don"t blame him, because he was just a kid, but I felt pretty bad back then.
He kept doing it every few days.
"I like you," he"d say, and then he"d do whatever he wanted with other girls.
It went on for years, until I got tired of it ten years later. He understood and didn"t bother me, although he still played with other girls.
It did hurt, I, won"t lie, but at least less than before.
His name is Oliver, and he"s now 19.
My name is Emma, and I am a junior college student.
We go to different cla.s.ses, but we"re in the same year.
He"s super attractive, with good grades and wealth. He"s known as the school"s playboy, but it doesn"t bother anyone.
The girls he toy with still talk to him, seduce him, and they have fun together. He doesn"t talk with me anymore, we just greet each other and go to school together.
I also come from a rich family, my grades are no worse than his, even my looks are on the same level, but for him, I"m just a toy he used for years and is tired of now.
He"s cold and distant to me, not like the other girls.
I don"t understand why, but I feel it"s better this way.
Anyway, today I have to go to school with him, like always.
I dress up pretty casual for school, not like those girls who go with a dress on.
Today I chose a white turtleneck shirt and a pair of black pants. I pulled my dark purple hair in a bun.
The doorbell rings, it"s Oliver.
"Hi," I tell him. I think I look awkward, as usual.
He answers: "Good morning. Have you been well?"
His lashes are long, his lips look soft. His eyes are amber colored, whole his skin is very fair and well maintained. He is quite tall, and his body is in good shape. His hair is quite short, but it"s a very beautiful golden color. His fingers are long but his hands aren"t rough.
He is wearing a very normal black t-shirt, and a pair of trousers of the same color.
This feels strange to me. He usually doesn"t say anything. But I can"t deny I feel happy.
Even my lips curled up before I reply:
"Good. You?"
His smile is so charming, and since I haven"t seen it it years, it involuntarily makes me blush.
I close the door and we walk off.
On the way, he walks on my left, so I, can"t help but think that he"s doing it to help me not fall on the road.
"Emma, do you still like me?" he asks all of a sudden, looking at me seriously.
It shock me at first.
I can"t deny I do, especially by the way I look at him everyday.
He won"t do me any harm, and I won"t be able to hide anything from him anyway, so I"ll just be honest: "...yeah?
I don"t know why, but his smile is so dazzling when he asks: "do you want to go out with me again?" looking slightly shy.
Hah, I can"t believe this guy. He still has the guts to ask me that after everything he"s done to me?
I start to remember how he treated me in the past.
"Me? With you? Why? Do you think you"re worthy? To me, you"re not even fit to be a toy, unlike these girls," he told me once. It was the first time I saw him have intercourse, but he looked fine. It couldn"t have been his first time. I felt devastated, and still asked for an explanation, but only received a slammed door at my face.