The high school Romance

It happened last week, in the playground at our school. I was sitting on one of the swings, slowly swaying back and forth. While I swung, I happened to look over at the slide. There, flying down the gold channel, was Amy. I smiled, looking at her perfect brown hair, and her sweet, angelic face. Her eyes sparkled in the sun like gemstones, and her lips glowed cherry red. I called “Amy!” I thought I saw her glance towards me, but then her gaze shifted to someone else. That someone just happened to be Chester Gild, another boy in our grade. He smiled as he caught her eye, and I realized he had been watching just like I had. I felt my face grow warm, and hid the sudden emotion by pulling my ball cap down over my tomato-red face. Amy flew off the slide and landed on her worn ballet flats. Chester clapped, and Amy bowed. Then she casually walked over, and sat next to him on his bench. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and I swear he started whispering something in her ear. She laughed at something he said, and then sighed, burrowing her face deeper into his shoulder. He shifted closer to her, and put his hand on her knee. Then was where I stopped watching. I felt sick to my stomach. I quickly got off the still-moving swing. As I stomped past them, Amy looked up. She saw the anger in my eyes, and pursed her lips. Amy whispered something to Chester, and then got up. He let her off his lap reluctantly, and then glared at me suspiciously as Amy followed me to one the picnic tables. I went to one that was far away from Chester, and sat down. She plopped down next to me, and looked at my hands, clenched at my side.
“Jason?” she asked. She took my hand, and gently pulled my fingers apart. There were angry, red marks in my palm from my nails biting into my skin. She sighed when she saw them, and looked into my eyes, her green eyes searching for the source of my distress.
“Why?” I finally asked. She furrowed her brow in confusion, and then opened her mouth to speak.
“I don’t-” I cut her off, squeezing her fingers.
“Why were you with Chester?” I asked, putting as much disgust behind the name as I could. Her eyes hardened, and she squeezed my hand even harder than I had, hard enough to make it hurt. I winced, and she abruptly stopped. When she looked into my face and saw that my eyes were still glaring at her, she sighed.
“I’m sorry…” she said, with difficulty. She obviously thought I shouldn’t be bothered by her toying with other guys while we were dating. I raised my eyebrows, and she sighed again. “I started talking to Chester two nights ago, at the roller rink when you never showed,” she glared at me. “We haven’t done anything, just a little talking, nothing for you to be worried about.” Hearing her say it like that, with so much innocence, was like swallowing a golf ball. I tried to change my expression into a more understanding appearance, but it turned out as a grimace. I groaned, and pulled my hand from her grasp.
“I didn’t think this would work out from the beginning,” which was true; I had had doubts about us being in a relationship like this since she had asked me out a month ago. Suspecting that she would get bored of me, I had kept our relationship distant, so that when she did ask for a break, it would be a clean one. So far, she hadn’t asked, though, and I was beginning to believe she actually loved me; until this. She sighed in frustration, and smacked my knee. I turned my head to face her.
“You just don’t get it, do you?” She asked angrily. “I love you. Okay? Haven’t I told you that countless times?” I let her get her anger out of her system, and took her accusations with a straight face. “Just because I might flirt with some other guys doesn’t mean that I want to marry them.” She rambled on for a few more minutes about her pledging her undying love to me. Finally, she closed her mouth, and sat still, staring straight ahead.
“I’m sorry Amy.” I finally said.