Don't Say Goodbye

The unpredicted appearance paralyzed her. Kennedy took this chance to actually keep her there; he locked his hand firmly around her wrist. She looked down at their hands between them with a horrific expression. He considered letting her go, just to wipe that look off her face.

“Stay?” he asked her. Her head flipped back up, the same look on her face, just toned down. “Marisa,” he whispered, “stay. Please.” She twisted her wrist out of Kennedy’s grasped, but surprised him when she left it close beside his own hand.

She may have been acting slightly crazy, but he could see that she was calm beneath her eyes. Many years, and she was still exactly the same to Kennedy.

When she didn’t make a movement to run, he raised his hands up as if he was surrendering. He wedged them underneath his thighs. She shook her head lightly, her hair swaying softly from side to side. Marisa tugged his wrist and pulled his one of his hands free before placing it where it was before. Both of them were stunned and slightly confused by what Marisa had just done. She sheepishly glanced down and allowed her hair to create a curtain around how warming cheeks. The boy reached up and brushed the strands of hair aside, tucking them behind her ear. The corners of Marisa’s mouth turned upwards, enough for Marisa to feel it but not enough for Kennedy to see it. She tilted her face away from him, hiding her blush. Two delicate fingers pinched her chin and forced her to look up at him. They held eye contact, brown against hazel, until Marisa grew nervous and glanced off.

“It’s so obvious,” Kennedy mumbled, his fingers still lingering across her chin. She peeked up at him, too uneasy to even look at his face.

“W-what is?” she asked with a slight stutter to her words. He dropped his hands into his lap and leant back with ease. Marisa finally looked up at him, studied his posture. To her, he looked relax, calm; the total opposite of Marisa herself.

“That we like each other,” he sighed, finally lolling his head so he couldn’t watch her. Marisa blushed even harder, but her mood darkened.

Like? Like? How could he assume such a thing when they were constantly arguing and had barely spoken for months? Marisa’s anxious mood snapped, and so did something else.

“Excuse me?” she seethed, her head winded slowly to face him at such a slow pace, it was horrific. Since the boy had not expected this reaction, he stiffened in shock. The roles were suddenly reversed.

“Like you?” she went on, “you’ve been a pain in my ass for months and then you saunter over and proclaim that we like each other? Sorry, but I think you have the wrong person.”

Marisa scrambled to her feet, holding into a nearby bush for support. All she wanted to do now was to go home and drown in some chocolate and TV. Kennedy, on the other hand, had other plans that he wasn’t about to give up.

Right behind her, he struggled to get onto his feet.

“Wait, Marisa,” he pleaded. She ignored him and pulled a few strands of grass from her hair. “Marisa, please. Don’t act so childish.”

The girl that was blushing from nervousness was now beet red from anger. She stepped towards him, her fists hanging by her in tight clenches. Kennedy backed off, inching backwards just in case her fists went flying. When Marisa was within reach of the tree in the yard, she shamelessly ripped a long, thick branch off. Marisa held onto the branch until her knuckles went white.

“Childish? Really, Kennedy?” she prodded him with the stick, making him flinch back. He looked like a helpless puppy that had been cornered into an alley. Marisa was not taking puppy dog eyes at the moment though. Instead, she was more focused on the end of the stick and any spots that were open to be poked at.

“I can’t believe you!” she cried out, “Did you expect me to forgive you and kiss you, Kennedy? After months without you, you expect me to welcome you back into my life with open arms and a fucking smile? No.”

Marisa lightly tapped the branch into his arm. Kennedy was speechless, his mouth moving quickly but completely soundless. It just so happened that he did expect her to simply forgive him.

“Nope, not this time. I wish I could, but I really can’t. You left me – us – just out of the blue one day. Why, Kenny? Why?” she tapped his chin so he wasn’t staring at his shoes anymore. The rough texture of the branch made him grimace.

“Why?”

A sudden fire erupted behind those hazel orbs. Marisa wasn’t frightened one bit, still raging about everything. It was now fire on fire.

“I’m allowed to have other friends, Marisa. You can’t control who I hang out with!” he snapped at her, backhanding the branch away from his face. “Since when was there a rule amongst our group saying we couldn’t be friends with others, huh?”

“Well, friends don’t leave each other for months and then don’t come back! It also would’ve been nice for you to at least visit! Especially when Jess was going through her break up!”

You could almost hear the sizzling of the fire behind his eyes going out. The blank look that had managed its way onto his face told Marisa a lot about what Kennedy knew about the group. She pointed at him with the stick, but didn’t poke or prod – only pointed.

“You didn’t even know,” she deadpanned. Kennedy stuttered and tripped over his words. Marisa only grew more agitated with him than before. “You-“

“I knew,” he speedily rushed in. Marisa brought the stick down and cocked an eyebrow at him. He glanced away from her, picking at his own nails. Marisa shook her head at him, ashamed.

“You’re a liar now, as well. Isn’t this fucking great?” she growled, spinning on her heels and away from him. Kennedy reached out even if he knew he wouldn’t be able to grab her. When she began to walk, her footsteps pounding, he followed closely after.

“Please, Marisa. Believe me. I’m not lying.”

The girl spun around, nearly taking his eye out with the branch that will still clutched within her grasp.

“What was his name?” she demanded. Kennedy was taken back but quickly picked himself up. He thought and thought, trying to dig up Jess’ ex boyfriend’s name. “You don’t know,” she stated, completely emotionless. Before Kennedy could get a syllable in, she asked him something else. “When did they break up?”

Kennedy knew he was screwed so, he just shook his head. Marisa wobbled her head side to side, bringing a hand up to rub her tired eyes.

“Liar,” she mumbled as she turned towards her house. A trail of footsteps crept behind her, making her more irritated. “Stop following me.”

“No.”

He sounded sure and stubborn. Marisa picked up her pace, but Kennedy only did the same.

“Seriously. Stop.”

She gritted her teeth, a sickening grounding sound ringing around. Marisa sped up even more, but remembered Kennedy could outrun her any day. She immediately halted in her tracks, Kennedy colliding into her back. Marisa twisted around and brought her hands up. For a moment, Kennedy thought she had finally caved and was going to kiss him, but was proven wrong when he was shoved onto the floor.

“I don’t want to see you anymore,” Marisa declared, tossing the branch on top of his jumbled body. That helpless expression climbed its way up again, but this time, he was more desperate than ever. Tears flooded at his eyes, giving his hazel orbs an extra glaze.

“Marisa,” he pleaded; his voice deep and husky from keeping the tears back, “you’re overreacting.”

The girl only huffed before dashing off faster than he’d ever seen before. It was like she was there, then wasn’t, exactly like the ghost she had become in his life.