Since When Do Things Not Go My Way?

"Abbie?"

I looked up to see someone walking towards me, but it was impossible to make out his face. Awesome. Just awesome. Some guy was walking toward me and for all I knew he could have been some crazed serial killer. I wanted so badly for the tears to just stop at this point. Maybe then I could get up and leave and pretend like nothing happened. But, of course, they just kept coming.

"Abbie, are you okay," said the voice again. He was closer now and he sounded familiar, but it was hard to hear him over my own sobbing. God dammit, what the hell was wrong with me? Did I have no control over myself at all?

Finally the mysterious voice sat down on the floor next to me and the limited light provided me with an extremely blurry image of Duncan.

"What's wrong," he asked.

"Oh, it's...it's nothing," I said, but then I thought about how much of a wreck my life had become and I began to cry again.

"Shhhh, shh," he said soothingly, putting his arms around me and just holding me there, rocking me back and forth.

After I while of the two of us just sitting there like that, he finally spoke.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. But I'm here. You know, if you decide you do."

"Thanks Duncan," was all I could really manage. I had finally gained control over my body and managed to stop crying. I wanted to say so much more Duncan, tell him all my problems, but I knew if I started on that path I would never be able to stop and then all the tears would come back and it would just be one big mess.

Speaking of big messes....I grabbed my purse and slipped out my mirror, opening it cautiously. Even in the dully lit gym, I could tell I was a complete mess. For the second time this week I had make up all over my face. I was going to take out a tissue and try to do some damage control, but I could already tell I would be no use. The only way to fix this would to somehow manage to get to the girls bathroom, was my entire face, and re-apply my makeup there. And I would have to do all of that without being seen. I let out a load groan.

"What," asked Duncan. He had been so quiet for the past few minutes that I had almost forgotten he was there.

"I look horrible. There's no way I can fix this without being seen and I've had enough humiliation for one day."

"Hmm. I could take you home...if you wanted."

"Really," I asked, a little shocked. Don't get me wrong, I did consider Duncan and I to be friends; I just never though he would ditch school for me.

"Yeah, it's no problem."

I looked up at him and smiled. "I would really appreciate that."

"Okay then," he said, cheerfully getting up, "Let's get a move on."

He reached down his hand and I took it, but as he was pulling me up I realized that I probably shouldn't be getting me up at that kind of speed. Whenever I did heavy duty crying, it usually made my head swim, and if I wasn't careful enough I would usually trip or fall. Or both.

I stumbled a few steps, but before I could fall Duncan caught me.

"Whoa, there," he said

We stood there for a moment with his arms around me before we awkwardly parted. Somehow, we managed to get out of the school and to his car without any type of real questions. One quick explanation from Duncan to the head receptionist and we were out of there.

I had always thought since we were little kids that Duncan had one of those smiles that could get you out of anything or persuade anyone. Guess I was right.

Just as we were about to pull out of the school parking lot, Duncan turned and looked at me.

"Abbie?"

"Yeah?"

"I wouldn't worry so much about the smudged makeup."

He was joking right? Was I being "punked"? Was Ashton Kutcher about to jump out of the trunk of Duncan's car?

I gave him a quizzical look and scrunched my nose.

"Seriously? I look horrible."

He turned and drove down the road a few minutes before he spoke again.

"Well I still think you look beautiful."