The Worst Kind of Love
by Jonah Evarts
Genre: YA Fiction
This is a love story. Just not the kind you're thinking of.
Jaden is dealing with some major heart aches as he enters his first semester of college. All he wants is to forget about his ex, find a new girlfriend, and get semi-decent grades. But life has much more complicated plans for him. During his first day of class, he meets Cole, probably the most attractive male human being on the planet. Jaden is immediately overshadowed, throwing a wrench in his plans to find a girlfriend. It doesn't help that the single girl he is interested in wants absolutely nothing to do with him.
That soon becomes the least of his problems, as old enemies of his mental health, family, and way of thinking begin to overtake his life. Jaden tells a story of friendship, learning, and love as he uncovers truths about himself and life. A journey of endurance and self-growth awaits him as he skates through the roller-coaster that is life with many movie nights and plenty of good food to help him get by.
He isn't trying to have a love story, but he's getting one anyway. With himself.
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We reached the parking garage, and I led him through a labyrinth of Prii (the plural of Prius), until we reached my Corvette. Now, I know what you’re thinking. I seem to be complaining a lot about life, but I drive a freaking Corvette. But what you don’t know is that we got the money from life-insurance when my dad died. Now how do you feel? Be ashamed, ye judgmental heathen.
“Woah,” Cole said. “This is yours?”
I nodded, throwing my backpack in the back seat and unlocking the doors. Cole sat down carefully, so as not to ruin the already stained leather and cracked passenger side rearview mirror.
I never said I was a good driver, or a good holder of drinks.
“Where do you wanna go for lunch?” I asked.
Cole wrinkled his brow and rubbed at a non-existent beard. “McDonald’s?”
“Are you kidding me?”
He looked taken aback. “What do you mean? McDonald’s is never a bad choice.”
I opened my mouth to say something then shook my head and just started the car. Inside, I was shaking. You mean to tell me that underneath that rippling muscle and clear skin was a McChicken? I think not.
God, you gave all the good things to one person. Please stop.
We arrived a McDonald’s six minutes later, our backs drenched in sweat, and sunglasses plastered to our faces. We walked into the heavenly coolness of irresistible French fry smells, and I sat down as Cole ordered some food. He joined me in a booth just a couple minutes later.
“So,” he started, fanning his shirt. “Tell me some more about yourself. What kind of stuff do you like to do?”
I wasn’t sure if I should hate that he wanted to get to know me or be genuinely pleased that someone cared.
“I watch movies a lot. I sometimes play basketball. And I listen to tons of music.”
Cole sat up straight at the mention of music. “You make music?”
“What? No, that’s not what I said. Dear God, I’d be arrested for attempted murder if I sang in public.”
“Oh. Well, I make music sometimes. I play guitar and sing.”
“Really. I’ll show you some of my stuff in the car.”
A number was called from the counter, and Cole went to get his food. I kicked at his seat when he left.
How? How on my first day, in my first class, had I met a guy so perfect that he would overshadow me in every way everywhere we went? I just wanted a girlfriend, man. God.
Cole came back with a tray full of food, multiple fries and chicken nugget boxes clustered together.
“Jesus, man. What are you eating, Ronald McDonald himself?” I asked.
“Well, no. Half is for you,” he stated matter-of-factly. He proceeded to rip open a box of nuggets and indulge.
“You got me food?”
He didn’t even look up at me. “Of course.”
I almost didn’t want to take any. I felt bad, taking food from a guy I’d just met. But then again, it’s not like he was suffering at the moment. I indulged in the mounds of nuggets with him.
At some point, I checked my phone. You know, millennial stuff. I scrolled through social media and lightly chuckled at something that wasn’t really that funny. I switched apps, and immediately, a picture of Maddie with her best friend popped up. I almost dropped my phone, which I guess wouldn’t have been so bad. I wouldn’t have had to look at her face for another half a second before I was able to close out of the app.
I choked on my food and had to force myself to swallow, then I put my head in my hand and held my breath. It stung. A lot. Seeing her face was hard for me. I shouldn’t have opened the stupid app.
Cole, true to his perfect persona, saw my moment of heartbreak and looked up at me concernedly.
“Hey man, you good?”
I closed my eyes, picturing her face again. “Yeah. I’m fine. Food just got stuck in my throat.”
If I was close with him then, I would have told him the truth. The truth about how my gut had just fallen out of my stomach, and how an aching need to be with her filled my body. I just missed her was all. It was like when I lost my dad.
“You sure?” He asked. I nodded, then opened my eyes and realized we had already decimated all the food he’d bought.
“Yeah. We should get going. I have another class in thirty minutes.”
Jonah Evarts is only 18 years old, and began writing his debut novel when he was just 15. He lives in Manhattan, Kansas with two old people who gave birth to him, a twenty-something dude that lives in the basement, and two adorable canines. Growing up as a military child, Jonah lived in Alabama, Georgia, Texas, and Korea (yes really) before coming to Kansas. He says that Kansas is boring. He may be correct. Jonah loves movies, music, and the occasional writing of a book. He hopes to combine these three activities in the future, and make a career out of it. Support this poor man-child in his attempt to do something with his life.
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