Vivacity

Josh scratched his head, just behind his ear. I remembered it was something he did when he was nervous or uncomfortable.

He was so, so different. The Josh I knew wore glasses. The Josh I knew had a book attached to his hands at all times. The Josh I knew didn't look like this.

This Josh had a face that made you want to like him, to trust him. This Josh wore contacts. This Josh wore Converse and Hollister.

Mom had left us alone --- and had taken an unwilling Victoria with her. Mom thought Josh and I should catch up.

"You look..." he started. It looked as if he struggled with words.

"Thinner?"

"No." It was like a punch in the stomach.

"Prettier?"

"No." The hurt showed on my face this time, I knew. "Well, yes. Yes to both. I was looking for the word different, though."

That's right. Josh looked different, yes, but so did I. The Sarah he knew was chubby and non-groomed. This Sarah was thin and dressed up.

"You don't look the same, either."

"I know."

The look on his face told me that this conversation physically pained him.

"You don't have to stay, Josh," I said. The sentence was filled with more venom than I had originally intended, and he picked up on it.

"I want to, though. Sarah, you were my best friend," he replied. He tried to smile, walking towards me. He had been standing in the entryway the whole time.

"I was. And then you left," I muttered. "And things changed."

"Why can't they go back to the way they were?" he asked. It sounded like an innocent enough question. But it hurt. Because I knew --- just knew --- he was talking about before I liked him.

"They can't."

"Why not?"

I didn't have an answer. After Josh left in the sixth grade, I was alone. I was alone through the majority of junior high until Aubrey moved to Metropolis. It wasn't just because of my feelings that we couldn't go back. It was because of my new group of friends. It was because of Brent.

"I have new friends now," I told him after awhile of thinking. "And people like me --- the new me --- don't hang out with people like the new you."

It was honest, at the least. People like Josh were too good for me and my friends. Or at least, they thought so. And I knew that once he found what I do with myself nowadays, he'll think the same.

"Why not?" He was frowning now. I didn't like his frown. It didn't fit him.

"Because they just don't, Josh. Maybe they did in elementary school, but we're in high school now."

"So we can't be friends... Because we're in high school?" He sounded confused. When he put it that way, it was confusing. But that wasn't what I said.

"No. We can't be friends because I don't want to be friends and because my friends wouldn't like you, and vice-versa," I said this slowly. I didn't say it in an insulting way, I hoped. Honestly, Aubrey would probably click her tongue at him and scowl.

"How do you know I wouldn't like your friends?" I was getting angry now. Why wasn't he understanding?

"Because my friends aren't like the friends we had in elementary school, Josh!" I snapped.

Josh stared at me. And stared. And stared, stared, stared. He was like a statue. I don't know if he finally realized what I was talking about or if he was just hurt. I don't think I cared if he was hurt. He hurt me first.

"Okay," he grumbled. "I guess I'll be going then."

And he did. He shut the front door quietly behind him.

Victoria came around the corner right after, her eyebrow raised. "That was interesting."

I didn't say anything as I stomped upstairs.

---

Victoria had come up a few minutes ago to kiss my head and say 'bye, and Mom had left for work. I was alone, and I didn't want to be alone.

Fuck. Come over. I threw my phone down after pressing SEND to Aubrey. I stared at myself in the mirror and pulled my shirt off.

I put my hand on my now-flat stomach and growled. After Aubrey moved to town, I lost weight. She helped by running everyday and dieting with me. She hadn't needed it, but it made her feel good about herself and allowed us time to hang out.

I was disgusted with my appearance. I don't know if it was because the make-up from last night was smeared (which meant I had looked like shit for Josh to see me) or if it was because I knew for a fact I had gained at least ten pounds.

My phone vibrated, breaking me out of my trance. On my way. What happened? xo, A.

I ran a hand through my hair. I'll tell you when you get here. I'll probably be in the shower. Just walk in.

---

When I got out of the shower, wrapped in a pale blue towel, Aubrey was laying on my bed.

"So," she said, popping her gum. "Did shit go down?"

"Not with my mother," I said, picking out a clean outfit. "But Josh is back."

"Is Josh that kid that you liked when y'all were little?" I nodded. "Well, fuck."

"And he's not happy with me," I told her. I motioned for her turn her head while I dropped the towel. "I told him that you guys wouldn't like him."

"Damn straight we wouldn't. He made you depressed." I snapped my bra on and pulled some panties on, frowning in her direction.

"He didn't depress me. He just hurt my feelings... For a really long time."

"That's depression."

"Shut up."

"Just sayin'."

I threw on a pair of boxer shorts and a tank top, sitting beside her on my bed. "He looks really, really different."

"Like, hot?"

I sighed, "He's always been hot to me, Aubrey."

She shrugged, "So what's going to happen? I mean, we start school tomorrow so you guys are going to see each other."

"I don't know, can we not talk about that?" I all but begged.

"Heard Brent asked ya out," she said immediately. I grinned. I had forgotten about that. How could I forget about that?

"He did."

"He asked for your number, you know," she replied, smiling.

"You gave it to him, right?" I asked. She usually would. But this was Brent. This was Liz's older brother.

But she rolled her eyes. "Check your phone, genius."

I walked over to my dresser and picked the phone up. One new message, the screen read.

"I fucking love you, Aubrey," I laughed. I did a little dance, and she laughed, too.

"I know." I grinned at her, pressing READ.

Be ready at three. Dress casual.

"Shit. Help me get ready, I only have until three!" I squealed, running back to my closet.

"Sarah, it's only eleven," she exclaimed. She got up from the bed all the same.