So Hard to Face the Truth

It’s not that far of a walk to June’s house. Unlike me she likes directly in the center of town.

No one’s home when we get there, so we have the whole house to ourselves. Which I’m thankful for, and I know that she is too.

June chats with me about the normal things teens talk about- like school, partying, gossip, and home life. As we have a small conversation we raid her kitchen, finding cold pizza and Doritos to munch on.

We fall back into our normal patterns, into our friendship before the whole closet game incident. It’s like old times. And I like it.

I find myself very relaxed, and chill. I smile, laugh, and generally have a good great time just hanging with my best friend again after weeks of being strangers.

The rambling conversations eventually come to a slow stop like water trickling from a faucet. Then there’s silence. But not a bad silence like it has been before, but a nice comfortable silence shared between friends.

June is the first to break it.

“So, why have you been avoiding me?” She asks, sitting up from her upside down postion on her futon.

I shrug, not really wanting to answer the question, especially when I know she already knows the answer. But just wants me to say it.

“Because we kissed.” She states bluntly, making me cringe.

I also move from my lounging position, and sit straight up in her bed, looking at her from across the room.

I pause, trying to formulate a response, then I just blurt. “Yes, June, yes.”

Nodding, she gets up and walks over towards her queen-sized bed. She sits down beside me, not too close but close enough to increase my heart rate 10x the normal amount.

“I’m sorry.” She states, genuinely. “I really am. I wasn’t thinking.”

The look on her face makes me want to burst into tears. She’s so sincere, she’s so emotional. And I’m the one who really should me sorry. I’m the one who messed up. I didn’t have to ignore her, or avoid her like the plague. I didn’t have to nearly ruin our friendship.

“No. I’m sorry. I messed up. I-I’ve been so freaking mean and rude to you. For no reason. I’m surprised you even want to talk to me after me being such a bitch.”

Her lip quivers, her eyes begin to water. She looks away, rubbing her eyes with the back of her arm.

“I could never be mad you. And I,” She says softly, turning back towards me, her eyeliner smeared. “I understand. I understand why you reacted the way you did.”

Full of all kinds of emotions I reach my arms out and wrap them around her athletic form. She rests her head against my shoulder, while wrapping her own limbs around my waist, pulling us tighter together.

We stay like this for what feels like a century. Just holding each other, and listening to each other breath.

Finally she pulls away, a smile on her face. “So, you want to try and- you know, make something work?” She asks, her words laced with eagerness.

My eyes go wide. I blink.

Once again fear enters my veins. It freezes me cold and stops me from saying what I really- deep down want to say.

“Uhhh, uh, well, I’m not- I-I don’t think that-” I stutter, trying to find the perfect words to let her down easy, to mask me real thoughts. “That’s not going to work.” I finish, with a slightly edge to me voice that I don’t mean to be there.

She leans back abruptly, eyeing me. Hurt begins to appear on her face, her eyes begin to water- this time from another more negative emotion.

I can’t take it. I shoot up from the bed, grab my things and walk out the room, down the hall, and straight through the front door.