Chapter 6- Amber

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Ambers P.O.V

I didn't mean to upset her or anything! Honestly, I didn't think she'd mind. I just wanted to know what Alex thought of my girl. Next thing I know she's staring at her cupcake with enough force to burn a hole through it, and telling the table she's sick. Sometimes I really understand what guys mean when they say girls are so complicated. Not that Holly and I are a couple or anything, 'cause neither of us swing that way. Still, whatever. Point is she is weird sometimes, ok?

'Sorry, I don't feel well...' She mumbled, and hurried off dramatically. Holly is my best friend, and I love her like my sister, but she has serious issues. She is such a weirdo. One second everything is fine, we'll be talking, laughing, and having fun. The next thing I know she's telling me she needs to see a 'person', in a 'place', about a 'thing'. Helpful. I can really relate to that.

'Amber...' Emily tutted, fixing me with a warning stare. I stared right back at her. I know I'm sometimes a little short with Emily. I don't care. Ok, now I sound really horrible. Can't help it. Sometimes, I like her, sometimes I don't. She knows that, and she feels the same. Holly doesn't really get it, but the fact of the matter is, if Holly wasn't with us, Emily and I probably would never have bothered getting to know one another in the first place. She's not my cup of tea. Although I do like tea, so that saying doesn't really apply here. Unless the cup of tea in question doesn't have sugar in it, then I hate it. Anyway, I don't know why I'm talking about tea. Weird.

'What? I didn't do anything.' I replied, glancing at Jared for confirmation of this fact. He was staring down at his sandwich, purposely not meeting my eye I assumed. Drat, I guess it was my fault. I sighed, lifting up my tray.

'I'll go get her,' I muttered, half hoping somebody would beg me not to go. I needed to learn to shut my mouth sometimes. Now Holly was upset, and Emily was annoyed and I was the big bad bully. Awesome.

I cleared my tray and ambled into the hallway, only to realise I had no idea where she'd gone. Ok, if I was Holly, where would I go? No idea. Well, it works for people on TV, further proof that TV lies.

After spending a significant amount of time using my incredible tracking skills, I had managed to find...nobody. Well not nobody, I did see other people, just not the 'somebody' I was looking for. I tried her locker, our form room, the library. Nada. I was just about to give up hope, and settle for apologising at the end of the day when I spotted her, alone on a bench outside. (Yes! I should be a spy). Bless, she looked so lonely. A little bubble of guilt rose inside me, why am I such a tool?

'Holly! Why are you sat here on your lonesome?' I yelled, jogging across the short stretch of grass to meet her. I promptly tripped and fell sprawling in the dust at her feet. She burst out laughing. I should remember that, it seems to be a great ice breaker.

I squinted up at her, staying on the floor for comical effect. Plus I had a sneaking suspicion I may have ripped my trousers and I didn't really feel like flashing my underwear. Why God, why, did I choose today to wear my seahorse-y underwear? Ok, so I didn't CHOOSE them, but they were all I could find this morning. Oh, who am I kidding? I love them, they are so cute. I shook my head, bringing myself back to reality.

'Here,' Holly offered me her hand. I took it, praying that my trousers were still intact. I risked a glance downwards. Joy! I still had fully functioning trousers! This was a story to tell the grandchildren! I let out a 'woo' of relief and then arranged my face into one appropriate for a funeral, trying to casually dust off the dirt from my front. Well, I say arranged my face. All I could really do is move my mouth and eyebrows, but I moved them so darn well.

'Holly I'm sorry. I just wanted to see if Alex liked you and I was mean. Sorry, sorry. If you don't say it's ok then I will follow you around forever and keep saying sorry until you forgive me. I will even be there when you are on the toilet and-'

Life of a..special..sixteen year old. (no I'm not a vampire, eesh)Where stories live. Discover now