What Separates Me From You

Sometimes I just wish that I controlled the world, because I would change things. Every person in this mix and match of relationships in our group is wrong – Mikey and Izzy for example. What the hell was that about? She is pretty, that's for sure, but Mikey deserves someone much, much better than that. Her heart is made of glass, cut with jagged edges. She's a whore and a liar, and I don't get her at all. The other day we went to this kid's house – Mike, I think, in the sophomore class – and she got drunk and tried to pretty much fuck me on the poor kid's couch. But I'm not interested – I like Anya, I like her, she's my girlfriend, and I love her.

I love Emmalyne.

But if I was God, or Jesus, or whoever makes the decisions, I'd switch it all up. I don't really know how all of the pairings would go, but they'd be different than this. When you look on the outside of our little clique (although I feel like we're fairly welcoming), you wouldn't think that we'd be cracked – we seem as thick as theives. But I encourage you to look a little closer. Anya is fucking dead inside, Mikey is scared he's going to be cheated on every night, I'm in love with my best friend's girl, Gerard trusts no one, Emmalyne can hardly hold it together (but I'd love to hold her) … I think you can get the picture. Nothing is really perfect, and even the closest of friends have their secrets, and wants, and needs. We're just trying to scrape by, you know?

Its after school, and we're all sitting up against the brick wall, bored and tired and worn thin. I'm halfheartedly holding Anya's hand and she is staring at Izzy like she wants to kill her – I wouldn't blame her, after that black eye she got a while back. Gerard has a cigarette loosely placed between his lips, uncaring and unfeeling, and Emmalyne is just as pretty as she could ever be. Ray is out with his girl, I think they went to the deli, and Izzy is texting. Nobody is really talking, this tense silence engulfing us all.

I'm not really sure when we all started drifting – we all started coupling up, and then our words faded. We just keep hanging out with each other because its easy, convenient even. We're all friends, don't get me wrong, its just that we're not as close as we once were. Things don't just come as naturally. The summer had us all free and loud and lively, and now we're quieter, and a little more dead, and a little more somber, and have a whole new angst. Things have changed with the discovery of teenage lust – or love, if that's what they really believe it is. I just can only define it as plain confusion.

“Isabella,” I say defiantly, smirk on my face as I pull my phone out. “I got your text, I just wanted to tell you”. She shot me a bitchy look as I went into my inbox, daring me to go further. Last night she sent me this weird, drunken text, asking me how badly I wanted her. I answered as kindly but as rejecting as possible, and she sent me about thirty ones in return asking me not to tell Mikey. Well, of course he is one of my closest friends, but I can't really tell him. I'm sort of guilty, but if he doesn't dump her after all of this evidence, he is on his own, this isn't my battle to pick.

Emmalyne laughs, somewhat understanding what is happening, and I shoot her a goofy, lopsided smile. She is so pretty, and I am so fucking obsessed. I just wish that things would work out. I just wish that things would happen and that I was God and that everyone could be happy and I could be selfish.

Then I see him pull her close and kiss her lips, and I realize that nothing is perfect. My hand grips hard on Anya and I realize that I'm not God – I'm just a kid in high school, pretending to be in love.