Life Of Bayla

|60|

The doorbell chimed.

"Hey", she said, smiling once I opened the door. "I wanna talk to you, that is, if you're not busy?"

I think one of the weirdest quotes I've heard was stated by Robert Bloch when he said that friendship is like peeing in your pants. Everyone can see it but only you can feel the warm feeling inside. It's weird but so relatable.

Koa and Charmaine managed to successfully weave their way into my life, creating a bond with me that seems to go beyond so much. They listen to me without judgement, share their last bit of pizza rolls, casually remind me of how "pretty" I am. They're always there for me.

So with all this said, you'd expect it'd be normal for me to open up more about myself; more meaning me delving deeper into my sad past in our conversations rather than just giving them bits and pieces.

Want to know the truth? I'm I'm afraid that once they hear my story, they wouldn't want to reaming in my life anymore. I'm a mess undergoing unsteady construction.

Which is why when I was staring back at Koa, standing outside my house still with that apologetic and slightly confused look on her face, it was damn too easy to lie through my teeth. "Actually, I am busy".

Koa scratched the back of her neck, contemplating on the next words she'd tell me.

Though me telling her I'm busy wasn't the part I lied. It was when she asked, "Uh, okay. Where to? I could give you a ride".

I threaded my fingers through my hair and fibbed, "I'm just going to visit my dad at work. You dont have to".

I obviously couldn't tell her about my sort-of-date with the librarian. No one knew about it and I planned to keep it that way.

Koa's big grayish green eyes had zeroed in on my pale blue ones. Her voice took on a sombre tone. "I just... I came here to apologize for what I did. I-I didn't mean to lose it like that. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry, Bay".

Since the day Koa lost her grip on herself, resulting in me getting a cut on my head, we hadn't spoken. Sweet Charmaine was always caught up in the middle of our little hide and seek game. I figured at a point, we'd have to face the music and you know, each other.

"It's okay", I smiled. "For real".

Her face lit up. "Thanks".

"But if there's something you think I should know, maybe something that has to do with Maite? And her gang? Then I think you should tell me". I noticed how her smile wavered then I added quickly, "Unless it's something you're not like willing to talk about just yet or at all then it's also fine".

Slowly, she nodded. "Sure. I guess I'll leave you to your business".

At that point I realized I hadn't let her in. "Oh, shit. Sorry for making you wait outside".

"No, it's cool", she said, "Besides, you're heading out anyway. Uh, yeah, so bye".

Koa got into her truck, tossed me one last smile and peeled out of the driveway.

I rushed back to my room and donned an outfit I deemed cute: a baggy red sweater, a black and white checkered skirt and black boots. Then I met up with the librarian - who's name I found out to be Rhett - at Kaffy's Café.

With zest, he prattled on about different writers, their extremely prolific works and how much impact their books have made on the 21st century.

"Can I get your number?" I asked when he was mid-blabber on the 'fecund imaginations of these writers'. When he perked up a brow, I blushed - not only because he looked hot - because I realized I had to come up with a lie that would back me up here. "Uh, I'm gonna need it so from time to time, I can get back to you, maybe inquire about some more stuff I may need for the uh, assignment?"

That was mighty bold of me. I mentally patted myself on the back.

I gauged his reaction for a few seconds and when he nodded his head, my subconscious heaved a sigh of relief.

He bought it.

"Okay", he said. I handed him my phone to type in his number.

Sipping on his iced tea, he asked, "So what uni do you attend?"

It took me 0.2 seconds to he actually thought I was a college student.

"Still in high school, actually".

"Is that right?" I nodded. He went back to sipping his drink, wearing an obscure expression on his face. "At first glance, you didn't strike me as a secondary school student."

"Why?" My curiosity leveled up.

His eyes like burnt umber skimmed over my face, before settling on my eyes. He smiled, "You dont look..." he licked his lips and I felt tingles shoot down my spine. "You just don't look your age. Slightly older, say nineteen?"

"What?" I laughed. "Seventeen but I'll be eighteen in a few months".

"Seventeen", he echoed as if trying to come to terms with that fact.

"I really dont look like it?" I felt an odd thrill rush through me at the prospect of him perceiving me slightly older than my actual age.

That was a good sign, eh?

"It's fine", he chuckled. "Anyway, tell me about you. Where are you from? Your accent is a dead set giveaway you're not from around here".

"I'm from Canada".

His lips tweaked into a smile. "Tell me more".

~~~~~

When I got home that day, I walked in on mom and dad fighting. The house was messy with broken plates on the floor, dad's face buried in his hands, crying and mom standing still in one corner with a piece of a broken plate visibly sticking out of her palm and blood sluicing down her hand.