Miss, Do I Know You?

07 - Monday, October 5

Seeking to make sense of the aftermath of all that had happened, I had isolated myself within the familiar walls of my home for days, dredging up the past. I had no idea what to feel anymore, even more so than ever. A war was being waged within me.

The cold reasoning of my mind stubbornly clung to the present—it screamed at me to hate her, to despise her for her selfish motives, for her calculated lies. But my heart had its own memory, carrying imprints of people, of emotions, events, and moments within its fibers. It played an age-old tune, harking back to days filled with laughter and sun-kissed afternoons, ice creams and bike rides, shared secrets, and the raw sting of scraped knees.

At times, I found myself longing to confront her, to seek answers, to understand her motives. But in the same breath, the memory of her betrayal would surface, like a rug being pulled out from under my feet. The anger was there, lurking below the surface, now muddled by the confusion and the remnants of affection that once existed. Frustration had lost its crisp edges, no longer a stark contrast of black and white, but rather a confusing hue of grey.

Caught in the tug-of-war, I could no longer trust my own feelings. I could not tell if the love for my childhood friend or the anger for my manipulative teacher was the truer emotion. And so, I spent the subsequent days marooned in this fog of confusion, in mindless scrutiny of walls and ceilings, waiting for clarity that seemed to forever evade me.

As the fog of emotional intoxication began to recede and the sobering clarity returned, I found myself back within the walls of school, hungry for a resolution. A confrontation was inevitable. But it wasn't about unleashing my anger or getting an apology. It was about making sense of everything.

I was prepared for anger, remorse, even indifference. What I was not prepared for was that my eagerness to piece together the puzzle would be met with a perplexing shift in Alex's demeanor. The stern gaze I had come to expect was replaced with a disconcerted avoidance, a jarring departure from the recent apology she had offered.

Her evasion felt worse than an outright confrontation. As class wrapped up, I wished to linger and confront the elephant in the room. But with almost pre-emptive haste, she snatched a book from her bag and walked out of the classroom with an urgency palpably designed to dodge any possibility of us being alone together. The woman who had been instrumental in creating this mess in my life now seemed intent on tiptoeing around it.

Thrown further off balance, I shook off the disconcerting encounter and spent the rest of the break in the quiet of the library. Knowing that my grades were teetering on the edge of catastrophe, having missed so many school days, I tried to mend the damage and catch up on some neglected homework. The lingering intoxicant in my bloodstream provided just the clarity I needed to concentrate.

But a fleeting flutter in the corner of my vision eventually disrupted the stillness I had woven around myself. I managed to spot her coming from the other end of the library with a book in one arm and a cup cradled in the other, engaging in hushed chatter with the librarian. And when our eyes met, I could have sworn her pupils rolled to the back of her cranium before she quickened her stride toward the door.

Fueled by a burning desire to speak to her and discover why her behavior had grown even colder than ever, I hastily scooped my belongings and raced after her. But right as I maneuvered around the corner, jamming notebooks into my bag mid-stride, I found myself suddenly drenched in a warm liquid. In an ironic twist of fate, I had obliterated any space that separated us and propelled us into an uncomfortable closeness.

"Fucking ssh..." Alex caught herself, drawing a sharp breath. "Really?"

The soaked fabric stuck to my skin in an uncomfortable and inescapable embrace. And since it was too late to remedy the situation, I tried to find some humor in the fact it hadn't been scorching hot, or else we might have found ourselves bandaged side by side in the same burn unit.