“Not So Over It” By Mia Garcia

It is silent, Silent enough to hear my thoughts. But hushed whispers still dawdles in the area. I skim the last few sentences of the page before turning it. I look up from my overused book and glance at Adrian, who is sitting a little closer to me than I’d like. He softly scrunches his nose in an attempt to make me laugh, and a breathy hum escapes my throat. He smiles with a blushing hue painted on the apples of his cheeks. He stares at me intently with a smile still on his pink lips.


“Nothin’,” He says, “Just starin’”


He guffaws and thanks me sarcastically. “Shut up,” I shove him gently with my elbow as an embarrassing red tint appears on my face. He chuckles at my blush and asks if I’m ready to go home. “Whatever you want,” Just as I finish my sentence, he walks into the scenario. His shaggy curls that drape over his eyes, like a curtain, and dimpled smile never fails to make my chest numb. His dark outfit contrasting to his light soul. Hazel eyes bright and alert with a pinch of painful desperation. He unconsciously shakes his head to get his hair out of his eyes and looks at me. Our eyes connect and my smile drops out of shock. Why is he here? Of all times and places why here and now? While I’m with Adrian– this looks so bad. He clears his throat and mumbles something.

“Isaiah,” I say unintentionally cold.

“‘Ria,” The nickname he gave me when we were kids escapes his goofy side grin and I might have embarrassingly shuddered in delight. The smile comes and goes, and the obvious badly hidden pain replaces the sparkle in his eye. He shifts his vision to Adrian and my chest grows tight.

He’s just a friend.

I only came here because I was promised a book.

Don’t hate me.

It’s not a date.

I still love–

“I, uh, book,” he mumbles awkwardly.

“Wha’?” I question him

“The book I need is behind yeh”, He whispers, accent thick as ever.

“Oh,” I whisper then stupidly turn behind me to see which book he is talking about, “Adrian and I were just leaving, so–” I lift myself off the ground, and drag Adrian with me. The more I acknowledge Adrian the more he’ll think something is going on– and that’s exactly what I want… right? “S’nice to see you again”. I go and walk passed him, but I don’t get very far. He grips my arm and spins me around, so I’m collided with his chest.

“Izza, what are you–”

“Can I speak to yuh?” The lower his voice gets, the thicker his accent. The thicker his accent, the more tingles I get. And I’m still debating if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. “Alone,” he indirectly tells Adrian to leave.“I’m a very private person” Isaiah used to say. Adrian announces that he’ll wait in the car, but right now… All I really want, is to have this conversation over with. I don’t know how much longer I can handle being five feet away from Isaiah without wanting to forgive him and tell him that everything will be alright, knowing everything’s not fine and it’s shot to hell. I was hurt, he was hurt. It’s just best that we remain separated. I harshly retrieve my hand from his touch and pull up my guard, “Make it quick”

“I miss yeh”

“Don’t,” I inhale sharply and close my eyes, “Don’t give me that crap”. I bow my head forward so he doesn’t see right through my lie, “Adrian is a good guy, Izza”. I open my eyes and look up at him, “I’m not giving up a good guy just to put myself in another situation where I’ll constantly have a headache,” the lie seeps right through my teeth stings my tongue like venom.

“I’m just tellin’ yeh the truth,” He sounds so broken.

“You can’t do that,” I take a deep breath. Him and I are better off separated, remember that, Aria. ”You’re not allowed to do that,” I spit harshly, “Can’t just walk in and out of my life and expect me to be okay with it”


“I don’t do half-baked friendships,” I don’t give him the opportunity to talk, because I know if I hear what he has to say; I’ll cave in, “You’re either in it all the way, or you’re not. And coming from you, seems like you weren’t involved to begin with”. Lie after lie after lie and all that lying has just made me a pathetic lying little girl in love with her best friend. But we can’t be together, not after I had confessed my feelings and being taken as a joke. Part of me is praying to some higher being that he sees right through me and we can go back to how things were, but the more realistic part of me knows what he did was wrong and hurtful. And I am not crawling back to him.

“‘Ria, please–”

“Leave me alone, Isaiah,” I snap. Looking at him now, I think I made the right choice. Looking at what happened between us, I know I made the right choice by leaving him. In order to breathe properly, I need to get rid of all the toxic air. Isaiah is the toxic in the air, and just a few steps away is my ticket to healthy lungs. “I’m tired of begging you to love me,” I have never sounded so broken in my life. Whether he heard the scattered pieces of my heart etched into my words is not my problem, at least not anymore. I need to leave before I deliberately poison myself, “Do us both a favor and move on, because I clearly did”. That was the last time I saw Isaiah Amos.


3 thoughts on ““Not So Over It” By Mia Garcia

  1. S H O O K . bro this is great. I WANT MORE!! this article is so well written and detailed. my favorite line was “Isaiah is the toxic in the air, and just a few steps away is my ticket to healthy lungs.” YESSSSS. I loved it so much.


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