Dear Chantelle,

I thought you should know that I’m really mad at you. I’m also really sad. I closed all my shutters and listened to “In the End.” It’s so true: “You tried so hard and got so far/ But in the end/ It doesn’t even matter.” You loved Linkin Park. You knew all the words to the song even though your friends didn’t think it was cool enough. They didn’t think I was cool enough. But I guess those other guys were. My mom said you were a slut, and I used to stick up for you. But she was right. I was so into you. I mean, you’re an older woman and all, but then I was thinking about it. You’re probably going to die first. And I don’t want to deal with that. I’ll never date an older woman again. You aren’t even that pretty. You kind of look like a bulldog, and you always smell like fish. But I love you — loved you. That’s right, we’re over. I can’t take your lying anymore. I was ready to be your baby’s father. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? You told me she had my eyes. I should have known you were lying because my eyes are brown and that’s like the most common eye color ever.

You were my first girlfriend, and I let my emotions get the best of me. Now I regret giving you my jacket when you asked for it, even though I was really cold. And I hate that I walked around the mall with you for hours when I could have been playing WoW, and that I bought you that necklace with the pink sparkly heart for Valentine’s Day. When you first whispered into my ear in the movie theater where we used to hook up, “Let’s do it,” a little shock ran through my body. I was excited, but I wasn’t sure if I was ready. You told me you loved me, and held my hand. Your fingers were so sweaty. I knew that if I told you no, you’d move on right away. Besides, for once, I’d have something to tell my friends about while we were playing video games — not that I ever did. You made me promise not to tell. I thought it was because you were worried about your reputation. It was only because you did it with two of my other friends also. I guess doing it really does make things complicated. It always looks really cool in movies, but you know what? That first time really, really hurt.

So about me breaking up with you: I think you’re a dirty skank whore who uses people just to get attention. Well, it’s not going to work anymore. I’m not going to go to the library with you to do homework anymore, and I’m not helping you babysit your dumb little sister. You’re on your own. I hope those other boys were a lot of fun and really awesome, because you’re really awesome. I mean we can still see each other sometimes, though. I guess that would be okay. Just leave Maisie with your mom in case she poops while we’re out or something. Hey, the new Harry Potter movie is coming out this summer! We should go see it together. I know that’s not for a while, but I’m thinking you’re going to need some time to get over this break-up. I’ll need some time, too. So, July 17th? Want to pick me up? Let me know what you think. See you at school tomorrow.

– Alphie

P.S. I’m still really pissed at you!! (But it’s kind of cool that we were on TV, so that makes up for it, I guess).

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