3:30pm

37: amendments

It was only natural for me to ask, "What did you see?"

"Them kissing, that's what. Standing right there on his stupid front porch sucking face."

 My eyebrows flew up in surprise. "What?"

"Are you for real?" Stephen asked. 

She looked up at him, her lips turned down. "Would I just make stuff up?"

"Why would Gregory do that?!" I exclaimed, my eyebrows now in a tight frown. "With Marnie of all people."

Stephen held the mug out to Mikayla then, and she took it. "He didn't see me," she muttered, looking into the cup of cocoa. "I left before he could."

"You should've at least told him something," Stephen shrugged. "I mean, confronted him, you know. Tell him that's no way to treat a lady."

"I didn't know what to say," she sniffed. "I was too shocked to say anything. So I just turned and left."

"I'm gonna call him tonight. Talk to him."

Mikayla looked back up at Stephen. "Don't. Please."

"I will," I butted in, and she lowered her gaze to me.

"No." She shook her head. "Don't say anything, please."

"Why?" I stared at her.

She looked away from me. "I don't know. Just . . . don't." And then she looked back into the mug of cocoa, as though there was something in there telling her to make sure Stephen and I refrained from confronting Gregory on her behalf. 

°°°°

It was night time. Stephen had gone home already, about three hours ago, while Mikayla's mom was doing the night shift at the shopping mall where she worked, leaving Mikayla and I alone in the house, she in her room, and me in mine.

I was currently laying on the bed, a hand on my belly and my eyes to the ceiling, slowly, but surely, realizing how much of a bad friend I'd been toward Mikayla. 

She'd been there for me throughout all I'd gone through, although she didn't really know it. She'd been the reason I'd gone to the mall, where Stephen and I first met at the vending machine; on that day, she'd taken me out shopping. When my dad changed for the worse and after Dante died, she was all I had.

But for two weeks, my best friend had been unhappy. For two weeks, my best friend had been having problems with her boyfriend, and I'd been too self-centered to realize it.

My conscience ridden with guilt, I covered my face in my hands and groaned into it.

Ever since Stephen and I began seeing each other, it'd been all about him. In my head he was there. In school, in church, everywhere. He was all I could think of. And no, it wasn't his fault. It wasn't like he was the one cramming the thoughts of him in my head. It was solely my fault. 

But I was going to remedy that. Starting now.

At once, I sat up and got down from the bed. Walking over to my closet, I pulled it open and got out a blue halter top, black jeans and the only pair of baseball boots I owned. Quickly, I got out of my day's wear and slid into the jeans and top. Slipping on my boots, I glanced at myself in the mirror before leaving the room for hers.

On getting to the door, I stopped to knock. With her permission, I twisted the handle and stepped in. 

I met Mikayla at her reading desk, just sitting there, doing nothing but staring out the open window. 

"What are you all dressed up for?" she asked when her gaze fell on me. "It's what, eight pm?" 

"We're going out!" I beamed. "No one else, just you and me."