participated, though I normally had a strong fondness for this holiday, and the lone occupant of my lunch table hadn’t either.
“Where’s Franny?” I asked softly when I got to the table, Blane sitting opposite of me.
“She had a meeting with one of her teachers,” he said while looking down at the table between us. The label wrapper of his Fierce Grape gatorade had obviously been picked within an inch of its life. “She told me I didn’t need to hang around.” His eyes glanced up at mine. “I protested, but she was pretty adamant.”
He didn’t sound happy, but I thought it might be a good thing that she do some things for herself. I didn’t say that, though. He wouldn’t have agreed.
“Oh, okay.” I cleared my throat, anxious about the opportunity to talk to him one on one. “How are you ?” I whispered cautiously, fiddling with the chips from my lunch bag.
“I can’t do this now, Whit,” he ground out, the tension in his jaw sharpening it even further.
Snapping the chip in my hand, I lifted my eyes and fought to capture his. “You know what? That’s fine. But I’m not going away. You’re not letting any of it out, and it’s already starting to swallow you whole. You’re not the Blane I know. And I’m gonna ride you just as hard as you ride Franny until you come the fuck back.”
I stood up and grabbed the remaining scraps of my lunch, wadded them up, tossed them in the nearby trash, and swept my books off of the table top swiftly.
My timing was bad, the day before his dad’s memorial, but I had a feeling it would never be a good time to start a confrontation with my best friend. Or the shell of where my best friend used to be.
“Tell Franny I’ll see her in Calculus,” I bit out as I moved away from the table. And once I left, I didn’t look back.
I knew my anger didn’t solve anything, and I wasn’t even sure it was warranted. But I was tired. Tired of living every day like a ghost. Tired of feeling lonely and vulnerable, and like nothing would ever be right again. But mostly, I was tired of watching my friends live that way.
I was there, willing to take on some of their burden, and they just wouldn’t give it to me.
There was only so long I could take feeling completely useless and afraid without reaching some kind of breaking point.
And I just broke.
“Hey, Whitney,” I heard just as I pushed open the Cafeteria door.
Looking to my right, I found the one member of the football team I actually talked to. Grant Woodward. He was friendly, and cute, spiked blond hair framing his forest green eyes, but I’d never paid much attention to anyone outside of Blane and Franny. Today he was cross-dressing as a cheerleader, his crop top and skirt showing off his far from feminine body. He was built pretty well and hairy. Not an off-putting amount of hair, just too much for your average Betty Sue.
“Oh. Hey, Grant,” I answered by rote after I finished my perusal.
“I’m having a Halloween Party at my house Saturday night. You should come.” He handed me a basic orange flyer with black lettering on it. All it had were his address and a time. No spiders or extraneous decoration.
It was just on the tip of my tongue to refuse him, but the throb in my chest reminded me that I was on the cusp of needing to make some changes. I didn’t know what they needed to be, and I wasn’t sure attending a party full of drunken high schoolers would even remotely apply, but I knew I needed to be more open.
“Uh, okay. Maybe,” I fumbled noncommittally. It sure as hell wasn’t eloquent, and I wasn’t going to say an outright yes, but I figured a maybe was something.
“Cool,” he nodded with a smile.
I took two steps away when an idea came to me. Turning back, I called, “Would it be okay if I brought someone with me?”
“Girl or guy?” he asked with a smile.
I rolled my eyes in response and he laughed. “Sure. As long as it’s human and with you, it’s welcome.”
ONE FOOT
“Where’s Franny?” I asked softly when I got to the table, Blane sitting opposite of me.
“She had a meeting with one of her teachers,” he said while looking down at the table between us. The label wrapper of his Fierce Grape gatorade had obviously been picked within an inch of its life. “She told me I didn’t need to hang around.” His eyes glanced up at mine. “I protested, but she was pretty adamant.”
He didn’t sound happy, but I thought it might be a good thing that she do some things for herself. I didn’t say that, though. He wouldn’t have agreed.
“Oh, okay.” I cleared my throat, anxious about the opportunity to talk to him one on one. “How are you ?” I whispered cautiously, fiddling with the chips from my lunch bag.
“I can’t do this now, Whit,” he ground out, the tension in his jaw sharpening it even further.
Snapping the chip in my hand, I lifted my eyes and fought to capture his. “You know what? That’s fine. But I’m not going away. You’re not letting any of it out, and it’s already starting to swallow you whole. You’re not the Blane I know. And I’m gonna ride you just as hard as you ride Franny until you come the fuck back.”
I stood up and grabbed the remaining scraps of my lunch, wadded them up, tossed them in the nearby trash, and swept my books off of the table top swiftly.
My timing was bad, the day before his dad’s memorial, but I had a feeling it would never be a good time to start a confrontation with my best friend. Or the shell of where my best friend used to be.
“Tell Franny I’ll see her in Calculus,” I bit out as I moved away from the table. And once I left, I didn’t look back.
I knew my anger didn’t solve anything, and I wasn’t even sure it was warranted. But I was tired. Tired of living every day like a ghost. Tired of feeling lonely and vulnerable, and like nothing would ever be right again. But mostly, I was tired of watching my friends live that way.
I was there, willing to take on some of their burden, and they just wouldn’t give it to me.
There was only so long I could take feeling completely useless and afraid without reaching some kind of breaking point.
And I just broke.
“Hey, Whitney,” I heard just as I pushed open the Cafeteria door.
Looking to my right, I found the one member of the football team I actually talked to. Grant Woodward. He was friendly, and cute, spiked blond hair framing his forest green eyes, but I’d never paid much attention to anyone outside of Blane and Franny. Today he was cross-dressing as a cheerleader, his crop top and skirt showing off his far from feminine body. He was built pretty well and hairy. Not an off-putting amount of hair, just too much for your average Betty Sue.
“Oh. Hey, Grant,” I answered by rote after I finished my perusal.
“I’m having a Halloween Party at my house Saturday night. You should come.” He handed me a basic orange flyer with black lettering on it. All it had were his address and a time. No spiders or extraneous decoration.
It was just on the tip of my tongue to refuse him, but the throb in my chest reminded me that I was on the cusp of needing to make some changes. I didn’t know what they needed to be, and I wasn’t sure attending a party full of drunken high schoolers would even remotely apply, but I knew I needed to be more open.
“Uh, okay. Maybe,” I fumbled noncommittally. It sure as hell wasn’t eloquent, and I wasn’t going to say an outright yes, but I figured a maybe was something.
“Cool,” he nodded with a smile.
I took two steps away when an idea came to me. Turning back, I called, “Would it be okay if I brought someone with me?”
“Girl or guy?” he asked with a smile.
I rolled my eyes in response and he laughed. “Sure. As long as it’s human and with you, it’s welcome.”
ONE FOOT
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