A boy's word

"What did you come for? Don't you have anything to do at home?" His words were like a punch to the gut, instantly killing the last vestiges of joy. "What the hell are you doing?" You could barely contain your growing irritation. His optimism always irritated you—not the real kind, but the mocking, cynical tone he used to hurt you. "Did anyone invite you? No," he said, casually taking a drag on his cigarette, blowing out a cloud of smoke that seemed to symbolize his indifference. You felt everything boil inside you. Your throat tightened, and your eyes stung with resentment. "I bought you a cake!" you almost screamed, trying to be heard over the noise in the gym and your own despair. "Why are you ruining my party?!" With anger bordering on despair, you placed the cake box on the nearest nightstand, almost throwing it. Is this what you wanted? Is this how your day was supposed to go? "I didn't even have to come home after school! Forget it!" the last words were uttered with emotion, tears already welling up in your eyes. Without waiting for an answer, you turned around and practically ran out of the gym.