Our First Love Has Closed Shop

For the sake of his new freshman flame, my childhood sweetheart kicked me in front of a crowd. That night, I blocked him on everything. Everyone waited for me to go crawling back to him. I had followed him like a shadow for ten years, ever since I was twelve. Until the day I went to the airport. He cornered me, his eyes bloodshot, his voice trembling uncontrollably. “Zoe, are you insane? All because I kicked you once?” I looked up at him, my expression perfectly calm. “Once was enough.” That’s all it took for you to lose me. … The moment he kicked me, my world went silent. Caleb’s leg swung with a vicious force, slamming into my shoulder. Thud. The dull impact sent me stumbling backward. My lower back crashed hard against the sharp corner of a desk. A blinding explosion of pain shot through me, as if a thousand needles had pierced my spine all at once. I gasped, my vision going dark. I could barely stand. My knuckles turned white as I gripped a nearby chair for support. The initial numbness in my back gave way to a searing, tearing agony. When I looked up, I saw Caleb just pulling his leg back, his fingertips trembling. My childhood friend, my boyfriend, was defending a girl from his university club by kicking me in front of a room full of people. Realization of what he’d done flickered across Caleb’s face, stiffening his expression. But it was quickly replaced by a wave of irritation and impatience. “Zoe! Can you stop being so damn dramatic?” In the tiered lecture hall, a few people stifled laughs. Most just watched the spectacle in silence. Bella’s auburn hair glowed softly in the sunlight streaming through the window. She stood beside Caleb, a smug little curve to her lips. “Caleb, don’t be so harsh,” she purred. “Look, Zoe’s face has gone all pale.” At her words, Caleb’s jaw tightened, the anger in his eyes flaring hotter. “Zoe, this is the university, not your house. No one’s here to coddle you!” His voice was as cold as winter snow. Whispers rippled through the classroom. A dull ache throbbed through my body. I couldn’t tell if it was from the impact or from my heart breaking. Ten years. I had seen every side of his temper, but I never knew he could be this violent. Shame, hurt, and rage washed over me in a suffocating tide. My nails dug into my palms. Caleb started to say something else, but I didn’t want to hear it. I grabbed my bag and bolted from the room. As I fled, I heard someone whisper behind me: “Oh my god, getting kicked by your own boyfriend in public? I’d die of embarrassment if I were her.” I didn’t know where I was going, but I wasn’t going to class. I couldn’t face their pitying, mocking stares. Caleb had always been impatient with me, but he’d never, ever laid a hand on me. Not like this. This was the first time in my entire life anyone had treated me with such brutality. When I was twelve, we moved into a new neighborhood. I saw Caleb for the first time by the basketball court, sipping a soda. The setting sun slanted between the apartment buildings, stretching his shadow so long it covered my little leather shoes. We lived in the same building—him on the fifth floor, me on the third. My mom always said Caleb and I were like two vines, destined to grow intertwined, supporting each other. Except his vine had always grown wilder, more freely than mine. For all these years, it was always me looking up at him. But we had our golden days. The autumn of my first year of middle school was unusually hot. A boy named Kevin dropped a caterpillar into my pencil case. I shrieked and burst into tears while the whole class roared with laughter. The teacher just smoothed things over. “Boys will be boys. He didn’t mean any harm. He probably just teases you because he likes you. Don’t cry.” Her words made me feel sicker than the slimy green bug. I cried all the way home from school that day. When Caleb’s dad heard about it, he called his son away from his video games. “Caleb, go check in on the kids in seventh-grade, room three, tomorrow.” The next day, during break, he cornered Kevin by the bathrooms. The image is seared into my memory. He was like a furious young lion, pinning Kevin against the wall, his fists landing with heavy thuds. “Listen up,” he snarled, grabbing Kevin’s collar, his voice still raspy with puberty. “Zoe is with me. You ever mess with her again, and I’ll make sure you don’t last another day in this school.” When he walked away, he ruffled my hair with a grin. From that day on, I became Caleb’s little shadow. In middle school, after his basketball games, I’d wait for him by the court, clutching his jacket while he and his teammates went to the campus store, staying until the streetlights flickered on one by one. He’d stomp over, grumbling, “Zoe, are you my freaking shadow?” But he’d still twist open an orange soda and hand it to me. He hated it when people called me his “little wifey.” Once, at a gaming cafe, one of his friends yelled, “Look, Caleb brought his child bride for an inspection!” He went stone-faced and ignored me for the rest of the day. But the next day, when I was home sick with a stomach bug, he skipped class to come to my house. He passed medicine and his class notes through my window, with all the key points meticulously highlighted. In high school, I caught him looking at me countless times. When I was chewing on my pen, memorizing vocabulary. When I tucked my bangs back with a clip. Even when I was napping at my desk. His gaze was like an autumn leaf, brushing past me before quickly fluttering away. “Caleb,” I said one day, turning suddenly and catching his eye before he could look away. “Do you know how to solve this one?” The pen in his hand clattered to the floor. Sunlight streamed through the classroom window, turning his ears bright red. “I…” He fumbled to pick up the pen, his fingertips brushing the back of my hand. “You just… use that formula…” His voice trailed off into an incoherent mumble. I propped my chin on my hand and just watched him. The boy who would fearlessly defend me could be reduced to a flustered mess just by my presence. The night our parents joked about arranging our marriage, he pulled me out to a corner of the athletic field. The streetlights cast a dim, yellow glow. His palm was sweaty, but his grip on my wrist was painfully tight. “Think this through,” he said, his voice strained. “We’re too close. So close you might not be able to tell if it’s just habit or…” I stood on my toes and gently touched his lips with my fingertips. “Caleb, I can tell.” His breath hitched. Suddenly, he pulled me into his arms, his kiss landing softly in my hair. A cool autumn breeze swept past us. I could feel the scar on his shoulder—the one he got in ninth grade, shielding me from a bicycle crash. The moonlight was so beautiful that night, wrapping around us like a gentle blanket. It made me believe this was forever. After graduation, we both got into the same university. I chose literature; he chose business. Then, at the start of our senior year, Bella appeared. She was a freshman in the business school and a new recruit for Caleb’s basketball club. On her first day, she handed out chocolates to everyone with a bubbly smile. “Please take care of me, seniors!” When she got to me, she paused. “Wow…” she giggled, covering her mouth. “People still use Lotso Bear pencil cases? That’s so cute! But, senior, how old are you? I thought all the senior girls were so sophisticated and had, you know, taste!” Every eye in the room turned to me. My cartoon-covered notebook, my phone case, even the Lotso keychain on my keys—things Caleb used to lovingly call my “treasures”—suddenly felt ridiculous under their collective gaze. My head buzzed as if I’d been stripped naked in public. It was the first time I’d ever been mocked for something I liked. The shame made me want to disappear. “Haha, sorry, I’m just a really direct person!” she said, tilting her head, her freshly manicured nails tapping on the bunny-shaped eraser on my desk. “You’re not going to get offended by a little joke, are you, senior?” My knuckles were white where I gripped my shirt. “That’s enough,” Caleb’s voice came from behind me. I turned to see him frowning. For a fleeting moment, he was that protective boy again. Bella pouted. “I was just chatting with her! Is the club president going to police that too?” “Club time isn’t for gossiping, Bella. If you want to chat, you can do it outside.” Bella reluctantly shuffled back to her spot. I didn’t know when she and Caleb had gotten so close. But one day, our regular two-person lunch in the dining hall became a three-person affair. “Everything on the menu today is vegetarian,” my voice trembled. Caleb didn’t even look up from his phone. “We’re eating light today. Bella said it’s healthier.” Bella sat down next to me with her tray. “Sorry, senior!” she chirped. I just looked at her. She raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her lips. “I forgot you don’t like eating grass. But less oil is better for you. You should probably go on a diet anyway, that shirt looks like it’s about to burst. Unlike me…” She let the sentence hang, her mocking gaze saying the rest. “You enjoy commenting on other people’s bodies?” my voice was quiet. “My weight is perfectly healthy. And if I’m not mistaken, you weigh a few pounds more than I do.” The cafeteria went silent for a beat. Bella’s face froze, as if she’d swallowed a fly. Caleb finally put down his phone, but it was to frown at me. “Zoe, that was out of line.” The boy who used to get into fights if someone called me chubby was now scolding me for another girl. “Out of line? Or am I just interrupting you two?” I sneered, picking up my tray to leave. Caleb instinctively grabbed my arm, just like he always did when I was about to storm off. But this time, his hand smelled like someone else’s lotion, and his voice was laced with annoyance. “Alright, alright, we’ll eat at your favorite place tomorrow. Stop being angry, okay?” Bella’s face immediately darkened. After that, her attacks became relentless.