For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, and for these two, their lives have been planned down to a science.
For Wylan Olson, being yourself can be very stressful. Since she was young, her emotions have always been backwards. The e...
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I reached her house and she sat me down. She didn't look like she had been crying or anything, but she was very reserved and quiet.
I stared her in the eyes and smiled to which she offered a small grin.
"I talked to Nate today." Oh, is that so? "He wasn't very happy, and he wanted me to—" Here it comes, "Talk with you." I wanted to keel over in my chair instead of smiling.
Me? "Why do you need to tell me something Nate said?" I asked and she shifted.
"Wylan, you're my friend." Oh, the pain of being demoted, in about two minutes I went from best friend to a mere friend. "And he wanted me to ask if you could back off for a while and let us—" I then grimaced on the inside. I think I may have whimpered, but it definitely wasn't because I wanted to cry out of sorrow. It was because her stupidity deeply disturbed me.
I interrupted, "If it makes you happy, friend."
She glared at me. This was where clichés went to die, and the circumstances of the situation descended upon me, and began to choke my life out. She was furious that I had wreck her little fairly tale, but it was necessary.
"Wy, I'm seriously not trying to argue with you right now, okay? I'm just saying that he wants you to consider—" I interjected again.
"Did he even tell you what it was all about, or was that another one of his convincing 'That's a conversation for another time,' excuses as well, Faye?" I was becoming infuriated, but really, I felt a deep sense of pity for Farah.
She was my best friend, and she was too entertained with her archetypal boyfriend to see what he was really doing. I wasn't about to preach to her about it. She knew, and I was going to be an asthmatic that day, I needed my breath.
"No, I think I know what happened," she confessed, fiddling around with the thread in her oversized sweater as she looked at the floor. I sighed, throwing myself on the bed.
"If I've said this once, I've said it a thousand times. Faye, your boyfriend is a gluteus maximus coated in rat feces if you ask me." I shrugged, and she snapped.
"Well, I didn't, Wylan. I asked you to keep it to yourself. I get it, you don't like him, but you know what? My sister and my mother don't like him either, but how much does it seem like I care?"
I stood up, getting ready to leave. "I brought food. It's on the island in the kitchen. Have a great time with your bad boyfriend Tien. I hope he's worth the fight, the pain, and the idiocy. If you need a friend, you know where to find one...Unless your taste in friends is as bad as your taste in boys. I've heard Cosmopolitan has a section for finding wise, blind old men. Maybe Homer is out there waiting for you, but I'm serious when I say don't call me about him hurting you." I slammed her bedroom door and walked out.
She came raging after me. "Sit down," she demanded. Neither of her parents was home so I seated myself on the futon in her living room. "I'm not being an idiot," she barked at me.
