Age Is Just a Number

Zara’s POV: 

Kayla snorts, “Everyone knows Zara has the perfect little life. You got guys chasing your left and right.” 

They also call me an easy slut because I like wearing cute clothes. 

“You’re so smart that Princeton is accepting you.” 

Princeton hasn’t accepted me. 

“You come from a fucking perfect family.” 

Mom abandoned dad and me when I was younger for another man. My dad is an alcoholic who hits me whenever he is drunk. 

“Your love life is perfect.” 

lan is my fake boyfriend to distract me from the man who will never see me more than a younger sister. 

“That causes you to be so fucking ungrateful.” 

I’m grateful for everything, having a roof over my head, food on the table, a bed to sleep at night. 

“Girls like you don’t have a flaw in her life because you like a fucking perfect life.” 

My life is not perfect. 

The cafeteria was in silence. Ian grabs Kayla’s arm. “That’s enough, Kayla.” He glances at me with apologetic eyes. 

1/7 

Inhaling a deep breath, I gave her my usual smile. “You’re right. My life is so fucking perfect, that’s why I need a better boyfriend.” 

Water. 

She splashed water on my face. 

“You’re a bitch Zara Lee!” she shouts. 

Carla and the other cheerleaders slam their hands on the table al 

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towards us. She covers me and crosses her arms as I stand there, while Nina pats my 

face dry. 

“You are the bitch here Kayla. You don’t know anything about Zara so fuck off,” Carla snaps. 

Before I knew it, Carla and Kayla started bickering. Nina drags me out of the cafeteria and into the bathroom, “Are you okay?” 

“Mind giving me some time alone?” I ask. 

She hesitantly walks out of the restroom. 

I leaned against the counter, lifting my face to meet my pathetic self. After some time, I decided I didn’t want to attend class and went home. 

Reaching the quiet house, I stand there. “Welcome home, Zara,” I mumble to myself and walk upstairs. I threw my backpack into the corner of the room and changed into more comfortable clothes. 

Leaning against the bed, I threw my head back, eyes staring at the ceiling. My hands reach under the bed to pull out a box, placing it on my lap. Slowly, lift the lid to see the white pills. There was an old note inside, and I grabbed it reading the content. 

Dear whoever found this note, 

First, I apologize for being weak, for being pathetic. I can’t stand to live any longer. Everyone always thinks I’m happy, living the perfect life. I’m sick of being 

2/7 

called a slut or whore at school. I’m sick of watching the love of my life holding 

another woman, knowing he will never love me. I’m sick of dad blaming me for everything. I’m just sick of everything. So, I decided on my 16th birthday. I’m going to- 

That’s it. 

That was where the note ended because I was too afraid to write any further. I slip the note back inside the box, wrapping my arms around my legs, knowing no one would miss me if I disappear. Nina would be sad, but knowing her, eventually, she will move on. William wouldn’t even remember me ten years from now when he is happily married to this random hot woman. My dad wouldn’t care. He’s probably happy his useless daughter is gone. 

The whole day, I merely sat there, staring at the ceiling, ears listening to the wind blow swiftly. I was on the brink of something I couldn’t describe, weight heavily pressed down on my shoulder. These past few years, I tried to step forward, but now it feels all too much. The darkness grew darker; the pain became sharper, but I never said a word. 

Sometimes I wonder if my smile- the horribly fake smile is ever seen through. 

If someone ever notices that sad, broken look in my eyes that I see in the mirror. 

If they see beauty where I see ugliness. 

And then I laugh, a bitter, sarcastic laugh, at myself. 

Nobody cares. 

No one notices. 

They never seem to, do they? 

Around a random time, I decided to go for a walk in the park. Hands in pockets, hood covering my face, I kick the small pebbles I saw on the ground. When I heard a laugh, I glanced up to see this little girl being spun around by her dad, mom taking pictures in the background. 

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3/7 

I remember and cry lightly. 

men my 

“Zara?” 

Cautiously, he walked towards me and wiped my tears. “Angel, what w-” before he can finish, I wrap my arms around his waist and let out a terrible cry. “Awww Angel, don’t cry,” he whispers. 

I can feel myself in William’s arms. He opens the door, and I knew it was his house even when my face was shoved into his chest as it had this unique smell. He sat down on the couch, arms wrapped firmly around me. “What happened?” 

I should tell William the truth, how unhappy I am with everything, but instead, I lied, like always. “lan and I broke up,” I cried. 

“That fucking bastard doesn’t deserve you,” he whispers, laying a sweet kiss on my forehead. I glance up at him, seeing his features clearing up. “You deserve someone who will love you,” he said, causing my body to tremble as he laid another kiss on my nose then my cheek. 

William brushes his thumb against my lips. “That kid really doesn’t deserve you 

I laid my head on his Zara.” I can feel him making small circles around my hip while beating heart. 

He plants his forehead against mine. “Want to do something special for your birthday?” 

“What?” I question while he hands me a tissue to blow my stuffy nose. I blew my nose, very loudly, and unladylike, then threw the dirty tissue on the table. 

Perhaps this is why William doesn’t see me more than a little sister. I’m sitting on his lap, like a child, dangling my feet while he comforts me over my breakup. Not to mention, I burped and farted in front of him. Reflecting, I probably should’ve behaved more like a lady, more girlfriend material. 

He wraps both arms around me. “I think I got something in mind.” 

4/7 

I want to ask William if he did beat up lan, but something tells me I shouldn’t. Maybe, I’ll ask him later why he did that. From my viewpoint, even if William was trying to be a big brother, lan should be okay. He is the perfect boyfriend, with good grades, manners, and captain of the football team. If my parents cared, they would have approved of him. 

Later, William attempted to cheer me up by cooking me dinner. I sat on the counter watching him, throwing in all the different seasoning. 

William would make a good husband. 

He places a plate of yummy spicy curry in front of me. Grabbing a spoonful, he blew it and fed it to me. I open my mouth, letting out a low moan of satisfaction. Food 

is life. 

“How is it?” 

“It’s okay.” I reply casually, attempting not to squeal or fall on the floor and roll 

around the carpet yelling: William fed me! He fed me! 

After we finished dinner, I grabbed my backpack, getting ready to go home. He stands there, awkwardly swaying back and forth, puffing his cheeks. “I was wondering if you want to sleep over tonight?” 

Yes! Yes! Yes! A trillion times, yes! 

“No, I think it’s better if I head home. Thanks for everything.” I mumble. 

When we got to the front door, there was an uncomfortable silence. 

“So-” I release a cough. “I should get going,” I point at the front door. 

He nods, “Right, you should.” 

I should get going. Yeah. Leave. 

He takes a step aside. “It’s getting late. I should walk you to your house.” 

5/7 

I scratch my head. “No, it’s fine, it’s right there.” I point next door. 

“R–Right,” he pauses, staring at me. “Bye.” 

My fingers start twirling around the strap of my backpack. “Bye,” I walked back home, and when I turned around, William was standing on his front porch, staring at 

1. me. 

I give him a slight wave, and he smiles at me, waving back. Turning back, the smile on my face refused to leave as I walked into the house. I threw my backpack down inside my room, opening the window to see William grinning. 

“Hi, neighbor,” he said. 

I lean against the frame. “How can I help you neighbor?” 

He taps two fingers together. “I was wondering if I can borrow a cup of sugar?” 

I couldn’t help but burst into an unfit laugh, but play along with him. “For what?” 

“To bake some muffins for this girl I like.” 

My face grimaces, head shaking. “If you really like the girl, don’t bake her muffin. I saw how you baked before.” 

He tucks his lips over his teeth. “Then, can you come over and teach me how to bake?” 

“What’s in it for me?” 

“I’ll drive you to school every day for the rest of the year?” 

I let out a low, humming sound. “Sounds tempting, but what about work?” 

“Fuck work,” he grins mischievously. 

“Wow, you sound like a responsible adult.” 

6/7 

William let out a shoulder shrug. “Sometimes, I don’t feel like being an adult,” he grumbles. “I want to be a kid and just fuck around,” he lifts a brow. “So, want to come over and fuck around with me?” 

I roll my eyes. “Fine.” 

I closed the curtains. 

With my hands on my jacket and I prepared to go back to William’s house. 

Shattered glass. 

My bedroom door creaks open. 

The blood drips down his fingertips. 

I stumbled backward, only to be forced forward by a handful of hair. 

Laying in bed, I can hear the phone ringing on the nightstand. 

When it stops ringing, I grab it, seeing a voicemail. 

“Hey Angel, where are you? I have all the ingredients ready, and I’m here waiting. Call me back when you have the chance.” 

I didn’t meet William that night. 

I couldn’t.