Great Expectations

"They say that what doesn't kill us makes us who we are." - Motion City Soudtrack

School on Friday had been uneventful at best. I couldn’t wait to get out for the weekend, to be free of homework and teachers and Dean refusing to even look at me. I paced my room. I couldn’t think. The walls were closing in on me – no, I was being melodramatic. I needed to talk to someone, someone I could trust, who would give me advice. I’d already talked to Poppy. She agreed with Dean. She told me I needed to tell my parents, or Dean would give up. He would let this go and I would be stuck in the past. We would be traveling in two different directions; he would be positive and I would be negative, moving backwards, further and further away from each other.

I reached out for my phone, my body acting before my mind could decide if this was the right thing to do. My thumb dialed the number while I was still thinking. Then it was too late; the phone was ringing and in a moment, I would hear his voice. I couldn’t go back now.

“Hello?” Hunter said.

I took a deep breath before saying, “Hey Hunter, it’s Juliet. Are you doing anything right now?”

“No,” he said. “Do you want me to meet you somewhere? You could come over here, if you want.” Hunter had known me for so long, he could tell what I was thinking by the tone of my voice. We’d grown up together, and I could never see him as more than a friend.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” I said, smiling. Of everyone in my life, I knew Hunter would understand what was going on. He would give me advice, and then maybe, I could finally make up my mind.

I picked up my purse, slipped on a pair of ballet flats, and made sure I had my car keys. After a second’s hesitation, I picked up a CD that had been lying on my desk for a few weeks. I needed something to listen to on the way to Hunter’s house, or I would go insane. And if my mother heard me playing AC/DC, she would probably wonder who had broken the stereo.

I started my BMW and backed down the driveway. Once I reached the end of the street, I put the CD in the player, turned up the volume, and rolled down the windows. It might have been nearing November, but it wasn’t too cold.

Ten minutes later, I turned into Hunter’s driveway. His house was enormous; it sprawled on a hilltop and looked over the city. I parked my car, walked to the front door, and knocked. Hunter opened the door a second later, smiling at me. “Haven’t seen you here in a while,” he said. It was true; I hadn’t been to Hunter’s house in weeks. My mother had assumed I had been visiting him, but in reality, I had been with Poppy, or with Dean.

“I know,” I said. I followed him into his house, down a brightly lit hall to the kitchen. I immediately sat down on one of the stools at the island in the middle of the large room and rested my elbows on the counter, letting my chin rest in my hands.

“Do you want anything?” he asked, getting a Coke out of the fridge. “I think we’ve got iced tea, and Coke, and – ”

“No, I’m fine,” I said. “Well, I don’t want anything, anyways. I can’t exactly say I’m fine.”

“I can tell,” Hunter said, sitting down next to me. “What’s on your mind?”

I sucked in a deep breath. “Dean won’t talk to me – he won’t even look at me – unless I tell my parents that I am pretty much in love with him, which I can’t do, because my mother would murder me. And Charity is lording this over my head and she’s threatening to – oh, my God.” I had completely forgotten Charity’s threat and her demand for a date with Hunter. There was no way he would agree to that. He hated Charity almost as much as Poppy did, mostly because she was selfish and snobby and downright mean.

“What?” he asked, leaning forward and looking sideways at me. “Something is wrong. Something else is wrong, I guess.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Charity.”

He laughed. “Charity is always wrong. She’s a manipulative person and I’m guessing she’s doing something to make your life terrible? She’s not trying to murder Poppy again, is she?”

“No,” I said, my hands resting on my forehead. I stared at the rosy granite counter, not wanting to look up at Hunter. He was one of my closest friends, one of the people who knew me the best. He was one of my oldest friends, and I knew he would do almost anything for me, but I didn’t want to push him like this. I couldn’t demand this of him; it was too much.

“No, she’s trying to ruin me this time,” I said. “She’s threatening to ‘let slip’ about me and Dean to her mother, who I’m sure will tell my mother. There’s only one thing that’s holding her back, but I can’t… it’s not…”

“What?” Hunter asked. He turned on his stool so he was facing me, gently pulling my hands away from my face.

“She wants a date with you,” I said. My eyes stared at my knees, bare skin covered by the frayed threads of my torn jeans. “And I realized that’s ridiculous, and I shouldn’t even ask that of you. I told her I’d try, but I shouldn’t have even told her that.” For a long time, there was no sound at all in the room. The sun’s light gradually slipped, tilting longer shadows along the wall. Hunter’s father worked in Los Angeles during the week and his mother was in Paris for business. The house was completely silent, except for the sounds of our breathing.

“It’s fine,” he finally said. I looked up at him. His gray eyes were dark, not bright with happiness like they usually were, but they were determined. “I’ll do it,” he said. “I might not like it, but I’ll do it. I know you’ll tell your parents about Dean when you’re ready. You don’t need Charity to ruin it for you.”

“Thank you,” I said, wrapping my arms around him. I took a deep breath, inhaling his familiar cologne. He held me in his arms, and I felt safe – protected – from everything that could come my way. “I have no idea what I’d do without you.”

“No problem,” he said. “I’ll see you at Charity’s party tomorrow?”

“Yes,” I said. I didn’t want to let go of him, because I didn’t want to feel vulnerable again. Hunter was comforting, and with his help, I knew I’d survive this and that eventually, everything would be fine.