Bastard.

03/03

The rain fell darkly around in torrents, hitting my shoulders and head roughly, but I felt none of it. I had to apologize; I’ve been a dick to him since 2nd grade, he must hate me.

I turned up the sidewalk to his driveway and sighed, trying to calm my nerves. It didn’t help; my body was still tense and hurt terribly.

I walked to his door and knocked softly, hoping somewhere in the back of my mind that he wasn’t home so I could leave and act like I never came here to apologize.

But, of course, someone opened the door.

It was a short woman in a maid’s outfit.

“Yes?”

“May I speak to Mark?”

“May I ask who you are? And maybe why you need to talk to him now, at midnight on a rainy Saturday?”

“Tell him it’s Dylan, and that I need to apologize, please?” I begged; I needed to talk to him. The woman nodded and held the door open.

“You can come in, if you’d like?” she said after a few seconds. “Put your shoes there,” she pointed to a spot next to the door, “And hang your coat up in there,” she pointed to a door. I nodded and did as she said while she disappeared up a set of stairs.

I walked around, looking at the beautiful house. My house was a piece of shit compared to this. No, my house wasn’t even that good.

“Mr. Levinstein, sir,” the woman walked back in, a very angry looking Mark following her. She walked off again, leaving us alone.

“What do you want, Dylan?” Mark asked icily.

“To apologize. Now say you accept so we can go back to being acquaintances and so I can go back home, and you can go to sleep, ok?”

“Why should I don’t forgive you. Now get out or I’ll call the cops.”

“Mark, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I am such a dick to you, but you’re not any better. You’re an asshole, and you know it, so don’t even get mad about it. I’ve been mean to you since we were 8 years old, and I’m fucking sorry, ok? Now just say you forgive me so I can leave!” Mark stared at me, a shocked look on his face.

“I forgive you,” he whispered.

“A little louder? I think this is the first time you’ve ever apologized for anything, I want to actually hear it.”

“I for-give you,” he repeated, pronouncing each syllable angrily.

“Good.” I went in to hug him; a risky move, I know, but whatever, “Friends?” I asked. He hugged me back, his tiny arms wrapping around me.

“Friends,” he whispered.
♠ ♠ ♠
So, I lied. No boysecks. You don't even get a hinting to boysecks. You just get them being friends. :)
Comment?
This is the end.
o:
I'm so badddd.
xD