I'm Still a Little Crazy

So, life right now… sucks.

"So, you were sick, huh?" Sara's eyes were averted from mine as we endured the awkward conversation at her kitchen table. You know, in situations like these, Fruitloops just really can't do anything for your mood, except make you believe that hopefully Tucan Sam will rescue you any minute now.

Yeah, I play around with childhood thoughts still.

"Mmhm. I was going to sleep in your room, but you keep it so cold-"

"So turn the heat up." She cut in. I sighed, putting the spoon back into the bowl but not having the nerve to hold up my head and look at her.

"Sara, why are you being so defensive? Like honestly, I don't even have anything to use an excuse against whatever you're mad about, since I don't even know."

Sara scoffed, shrugging.

"Oh I don't know. I'm just surprised you're not figuring it out all on your own, by now." She said with malice.

I rolled my eyes, getting absolutely nowhere.

"What are you trying to hint at now, then? That it was stupid of me to accept the food that you're brother an I shared, like we do almost every Friday evening?" I said sarcastically. I think I secretly knew what she was getting at, but hadn't the audacity to really come right out and say it.

Sara laughed quietly, getting up from the table and placing her bowl in the dishwasher. She hesitated a moment, leaning her hands against the counter, and finally staring straight at me.

"It's the way you so cunningly swerve and avoid what we both know I'm talking about right now, Peyton Jaie." The censure was practically dripping off of her voice, and the use of my middle name defiantly stung where it meant to.

"Wow. Thanks for letting me know what a bad liar I am, Sara Abigail." I shuffled back the chair and brought the bowl over to the dishwasher, but she took it from my hands before I had even reached it. How polite.

"Maybe its my own fault, for not showing more frequently that I actually do care about my brother's well being." She said quietly, our faces barely a foot apart. I raised an eyebrow at her.

"I never doubted that you cared about your brother, thanks. Just didn't know that you'd show it by using cryptic mind games on me." I muttered, biting the inside of my cheek from going father.

"You seriously don't know what I'm talking about, Pey?" Sara asked, and for once there wasn't sarcasm coating her words. I shook my head silently.

"All I know is that it must have something to do with Josh." I replied. Sara's eyes shifted from mine to the floor. Abruptly, she moved out of my way and into her living room, flopping down on the couch. I stared incredulously at her for a moment before following suit, seating myself in the armchair beside her.

My best friend stayed silent for a moment, playing with the tassels on the pillow she clutched to her chest. That's something really everyone should know about Sara – she doesn't cling to people when she's upset, but inanimate, cuddly objects. Teddy bears used to be her thing, but eventually she decided to grow up a little and moved to pillows. That may not appear to be much of a mature advancement to the innocent bystander, but to those of us who do know and understand Miss Sara Ramsay, it really is. She's such a softie. And this unexpected outburst of malice and sarcasm was definitely different.

"Pey, it took everything not to assume what happened last night, seeing you walk out of Josh's room in my shorts and his tee-shirt. And I know that would make you so angry for me to suggest that things happened, but it's the truth.
But what's even worse is that… you being so close to him… Peyton, he's still so vulnerable. You don't even see what you do to him."

"What I do to him? What are you talking about, I haven't done anything to hurt him-"

"It's not that, Pey. Really. It's completely different." Sara said earnestly. She tried to smile, but only ended up twitching her lips. I bit mine tightly, trying to shove the thoughts out of my head.

"Sara…?" I pleaded with my eyes. I didn't even know what it was I could plead from her – assurance that whatever it was she was going to say next wouldn't be true? Yeah, like that could happen.

"Pey, he fucking loves you." she whispered, almost inaudibly. I shook my head quickly. I just didn't want to hear her words, no matter how whispered.

"We've been over this too many times. Nothing's going to change."

"You can't be certain of that anymore, Peyton." Sara said bluntly. "Because you and Josh have changed. And I can't be sure, but…maybe you just haven't faced that yet."

"Like living in denial…" I murmered. She smiled reluctantly at me. "But Sar… I can't."

"Can't what?" her voice was like honey, urging me on sweetly instead of with pushing words. I tried closing my eyes, to escape the tension of truth flooding over me, but as soon as Sara's face disappeared, it was only his face that took her place.

My breathing came in tight, forced gasps now, my chest constricting in order to stop the tears.

"Oh, hun." Sara swiftly transferred herself to my side, enveloping me in her arms. I crushed my body closer to hers, hiding my face in her long brown hair.

"I'm not enough." My voice finally managed to spit out. Sara's hand soothingly stroked the back of my head, pulling my face away from her shoulder so she could look at me.

"I can't make you understand, or abruptly change your heart. But one day it won't be me telling you that my brother's in love with you, darling." Though her voice had reassurance, the words did nothing for my ill-at-ease mind.

"And what'll I do then?" I sighed. I knew…or thought I knew… what would be the sensible, safest and best way out of a mess like that. Tell him before it even got to that point, that our relationship was strictly 'bestfriends'.

But had I missed that already?

How far was I with Josh? Was the previous night my last chance to let him know that I wouldn't, couldn’t ever look at him and think "lover", or anything remotely like that word…?

And moreover, how did I really feel about him? Was it more than just me missing the chance, but stepping over it all together?

How, when for so long I'd been without him, hit with the truth of our mistakes, could I imagine myself even close to being in love with him?

It just isn't possible.

Isn't probable, sweetheart.

I don't recognize disembodied voices in my head, thank you.