Gone

LESLIE’ S POV I felt physically sick. He’d kissed my shoulder just yesterday, and we’d shared what I thought was intimate moments. But now, his lips were on another girl. Why did I think him kissing me meant something? Why did I have the foolish idea that he and I were going to be something? That he was jealous and possessive and maybe we would finally thread that line we’ve been reminding ourselves not to cross. Now, I was so grateful that we hadn’t. That I had stayed strong and not given into the insane attraction I had towards him. I shoved all my emotions down as the girl gathered herself and left. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me hurt. “Seriously, you couldn’t get a room?” I asked, marching to the bin and dumping the contents of the bag into it. I began to stalk back. “It’s not my fault that we’re sharing one,” he replied, his voice husky probably from the kissing. I wanted to walk past him, to pretend that this night never happened. But, I stopped