Shattering Crystals

I place my hands in my locker, trying to look busy as I stall for time.

Leilani’s birthday is today. I’ve been neglecting her for so long, and I have to do something about it. Even if it may be better just to let it be. Because I’m going to have to leave her anyways.

But I can’t leave without making it up to her. I just can’t abandon her. Before I go, I have to let her know that our friendship meant something. She’s not just another friend that you can leave behind like this.

I look down the hallway, but I still can’t find her. Instead, I see Dean and Lorraine walking over. Since that dinner party last one, we’ve all became good friends. There is none of that original awkwardness anymore.

Because of mine and Lorraine’s popularity (mostly Lorraine’s) more people are starting to notice Dean. More girls are going after him, because he definitely isn’t ugly. He doesn’t let it get to his head, though – he treats them in the same way he always did.

“Hey,” I say, half-smiling at them. “I’m waiting for Leilani.

“Oh yeah,” says Lorraine. “It’s her birthday today, isn’t it?”

Without waiting for an answer, I open the shiny violet box – Leilani’s favorite color – to reveal a stuffed polar bear sitting inside. Although it might look just like a cute toy to someone else, it has another meaning to us, referring to one of our many inside jokes.

“Cute,” Dean says, probably not really meaning it.

“It’s more than – “ I start to say, but I get distracted when I see Leilani walking up to her locker. “Oh, there she is. Gotta go.”

“You left your locker open!” Lorraine says after I’m about ten feet away. I look back to see her shrug, then starts going through my stuff. Not that I really care that much.

“Leilani!” I call to her.

As soon as she hears my voice, she slams her locker shut.

“Hey,” I say, smiling at her. “I like the outfit.”

She looks down at herself as if just noticing her clothes now. They’re new - probably a gift from her fashion designer aunt. “Thanks,” she says simply.

“I got you a present,” I say, thrusting the box towards her.

She stares down at it, unmoving as the rest of the students rush off to class.

“I don’t want it.” With her dimpled chin in the air, she walks away, leaving me confused and alone in the crowded school hallway.

----

I walk out the front door of my house and down the newly paved street. At the end of the street is a yellow house, number fifty-three. I head up the long driveway and up the front steps, hesitating to ring the doorbell. But at this point, it's not as if they can kick me out - the family is too kind.

The door opens to reveal a smiling woman, dressed neatly, but casual. I catch a whiff of her heavy floral perfume, and it makes my head slightly spin.

"Hello, Dana," she says pleasantly. "Leilani is just up in her room. You can go up if you'd like." She smiles again. Sometimes I wonder if she fakes her smiles all the time. No one can ever be that happy.

I politely remove my shoes and quickly run up the smooth wooden staircase. I take two steps at a time, desperate to find out what is wrong with Leilani. Have I been missing something, being caught up in all this magic stuff?

I reach the top of the stairs and knock gently on Leilani's bedroom door.

"Come in," she says, her voice muffled.

I enter her familiar room. Everything is purple, from the lilac sheets on her bed to the dark paintings on the wall. Chances are, if a color falls between red and blue in the color spectrum, it could be found in this room. Here and there is a splash of blue or green, but the only major exception is the off-white carpet. Sitting in the middle of the room, on the floor is Leilani, bent over something in her hands.

"Hey," I say softly. Not expecting to hear my voice, she jumps up and snaps what turns out to be her diary, shut.

"What are you doing here?" she says, her expression unpleasant.

"To - to say happy birthday," I say uncertainly.

“That’s great. Please leave now.” She looks at me, but doesn’t make eye contact – it’s as if she’s looking straight through me.

“What’s your problem?” I ask, getting frustrated.

“Nothing. Just… go play with your new friends.” She turns away from me to stare at the wall instead.

“Is that what you’re mad about?”

“You can figure it out with Lorraine. You’ve basically replaced me anyways.”

“And I’m here to come get you back. But you just keep pushing me away.”

“Maybe I don’t want you as a friend anymore.”

After four years of friendship, she should know better. I get the desire to rip the diary from her small hands and hit her repeatedly over the head. Just a few words are all it takes to anger me, if they’re the right ones.

“Why would I ever want a friend who never apologizes?” she continues. “Even if it’s your fault, have you ever said sorry to me? You think you’re above everyone else, don’t you?”

“That’s fine,” I say, avoiding the question. “I never wanted to be friends with someone who, every single night of their life, always – “

“You said you’d never bring that up again!” she shrieks, her voice nearly breaking. I can see tears well up in her eyes. She tilts her head up, trying to force them back into her head.

“I said as long as we were friends.”

“Just go then. Just go.”

Part of me is drowning in regret – it wants me to plead at her feet, to tell her I’m sorry and take everything back. But that other part is stronger. It tells me to never cry, never break in front of anyone.

I stand there, taking one last look at my tiny, scowling, olive-skinned best friend. After this, those last two words will never apply to her again.

"What are you waiting for?" she screeches, turning her face away from me. “Go!" She hurls the leather bound book at me. I jerk myself out of the way, hissing at her and causing the book to collide with the wall, chipping the deep purple paint.

Furious, I bolt out the door and race down the stairs, causing me to almost slip. I grab my shoes, not even taking the time to put them on. The number one priority is to leave this place. Forever.

I slam the front door, not caring whether it bothers the parents or not. I don't think I'll be seeing them again anyway.

Tears begin to flood my eyes and I blink slowly, trying to stop them. But one escapes, and from there it's like a waterfall. They are tears of anger.

Ripping my heart out seems like a good idea. Clawing it out of my chest with my stubby nails and grinding it into dust with my heel. It's not like I need it anyway.

Losing Leilani this way seems to much better. She won't be as hurt when I disappear. But I wasn't thinking about that earlier. I was just thinking about how great it would feel to slap her as hard as possible.

Is this really the way I want things to end?