If I Love You
2/2
They were young, too young, in her opinion. Teenagers that were only 15 and 16 couldn't fall in love. Sure, kids said they were in love but it was all just dramatic teen bull. At least that had been her thoughts until recently, when a little thing called denial finally escaped her hold and disappeared into the night. Mostly thanks to her mother.
Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, the realization had come four months too late. That was when everything had changed for her. Her best friend had, after breaking up with his girlfriend almost a year before, had started to use her. He wanted her to be like his ex, to be his next girlfriend.
So many times she had caught his lies. She could still hear his slightly high-pitched voice sliding so easily over sentences she knew weren't true. Even those she almost believed were proven wrong more often than not. Yet she loved him just as much as she would have had he never lied. The boy was her best friend, and like her brother. She instead learned to deal with half-truths.
Even now, she could imagine his pale eyes, smiling behind thick glasses that he couldn't see without. He would smile whenever he saw her, so long as the previous night hadn't ended in an angry fight, which resulted in an apologetic expression. Then he'd hug her as tight as he could, like letting go might just be fatal. And she would wrap her arms just as tightly around his neck, glad they were still friends for just one more day. The faint smell of his deodorant or cologne-she wasn't sure which-still swirled around her as she stood in the empty foyer of the high school, the stage for such scenes.
Other students wandered by carelessly, knowing they had half an hour before school started. Instead she stood, watching the open doorway he used to appear from, just getting off the bus, laughing with friends. He'd walk over to her and hug her as tightly as he could, and she'd apologize and they'd be best friends again. Tears stung her eyes and the fifteen year old bit her lip, urging them to stay hidden.
As her thoughts drifted to the summer, she clutched the hoodie of his that she was currently wearing. He had given it to her for Christmas, and it was the last thing she had left of the friendship that she could keep with her. Her mother's voice still sang in her ears. "He looks at you the way you're father looked at me. He was in love with you."
She didn't know what to be sad for. That she had lost her best friend or that the way her mother spoke made it sound as if her and her father no longer were in love, just friends living together. Either way the sentence broke her heart, made her hate herself for ever hurting her friend, though it hadn't been entirely her fault.
How many times had she had his number pressed in her phone, thumb hovering over the "Call" button before she would shut it again? His away message on AIM making him sound cold, careless, like nothing could ever be important enough to take seriously. She couldn't call only to have that be who her friend had turned into. If that was what had happened, hell, she'd rather not even know. It was hard enough to think about where he might be going.
Quiet prayers were sent often to a God she was afraid wasn't listening, or wasn't there. She begged for the boy to stay strong, to make it big in the band he was in. She begged for him not to get into drugs like so many of his friends were. She begged for him to be strong and to get along with his family, something that had never been easy for any of them. More than anything, she just wanted to beg for his happiness. Instead she had to beg for herself to move on, get over things that couldn't be changed.
A loud voice pulled her from her dangerous thoughts, her other friend waving and smiling. They had to go, or they would be late for class. Only a moment later her boyfriend was there too, ready to take the two friends to class. She looked at the two waiting on her and glanced to her left, where an old friend was laughing and smiling with his own friends.
Things had changed, she knew but this was the final piece to prove it. For just a moment their eyes locked and she looked away just as fast as he did. Shaking her head, she turned and followed her friends down the busy hallway. School didn't care about broken hearts and regrets.
Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, the realization had come four months too late. That was when everything had changed for her. Her best friend had, after breaking up with his girlfriend almost a year before, had started to use her. He wanted her to be like his ex, to be his next girlfriend.
So many times she had caught his lies. She could still hear his slightly high-pitched voice sliding so easily over sentences she knew weren't true. Even those she almost believed were proven wrong more often than not. Yet she loved him just as much as she would have had he never lied. The boy was her best friend, and like her brother. She instead learned to deal with half-truths.
Even now, she could imagine his pale eyes, smiling behind thick glasses that he couldn't see without. He would smile whenever he saw her, so long as the previous night hadn't ended in an angry fight, which resulted in an apologetic expression. Then he'd hug her as tight as he could, like letting go might just be fatal. And she would wrap her arms just as tightly around his neck, glad they were still friends for just one more day. The faint smell of his deodorant or cologne-she wasn't sure which-still swirled around her as she stood in the empty foyer of the high school, the stage for such scenes.
Other students wandered by carelessly, knowing they had half an hour before school started. Instead she stood, watching the open doorway he used to appear from, just getting off the bus, laughing with friends. He'd walk over to her and hug her as tightly as he could, and she'd apologize and they'd be best friends again. Tears stung her eyes and the fifteen year old bit her lip, urging them to stay hidden.
As her thoughts drifted to the summer, she clutched the hoodie of his that she was currently wearing. He had given it to her for Christmas, and it was the last thing she had left of the friendship that she could keep with her. Her mother's voice still sang in her ears. "He looks at you the way you're father looked at me. He was in love with you."
She didn't know what to be sad for. That she had lost her best friend or that the way her mother spoke made it sound as if her and her father no longer were in love, just friends living together. Either way the sentence broke her heart, made her hate herself for ever hurting her friend, though it hadn't been entirely her fault.
How many times had she had his number pressed in her phone, thumb hovering over the "Call" button before she would shut it again? His away message on AIM making him sound cold, careless, like nothing could ever be important enough to take seriously. She couldn't call only to have that be who her friend had turned into. If that was what had happened, hell, she'd rather not even know. It was hard enough to think about where he might be going.
Quiet prayers were sent often to a God she was afraid wasn't listening, or wasn't there. She begged for the boy to stay strong, to make it big in the band he was in. She begged for him not to get into drugs like so many of his friends were. She begged for him to be strong and to get along with his family, something that had never been easy for any of them. More than anything, she just wanted to beg for his happiness. Instead she had to beg for herself to move on, get over things that couldn't be changed.
A loud voice pulled her from her dangerous thoughts, her other friend waving and smiling. They had to go, or they would be late for class. Only a moment later her boyfriend was there too, ready to take the two friends to class. She looked at the two waiting on her and glanced to her left, where an old friend was laughing and smiling with his own friends.
Things had changed, she knew but this was the final piece to prove it. For just a moment their eyes locked and she looked away just as fast as he did. Shaking her head, she turned and followed her friends down the busy hallway. School didn't care about broken hearts and regrets.
♠ ♠ ♠
This is the story of me and my old friend. Its the most personal thing I think I've ever written but it was kind of nice. I like it, even if its strange. To me it makes sense at least.