Some people wait their whole lives to find the perfect friend.
But not Isabella Washington.
She knew she'd be best friends with Aiden Cunningham the moment she set eyes on him. But staying friends through school is easy. It's what comes after that c...
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After Isabella calmed down from her near accident, she drove back to her house. She unlocked the front door and entered the house in silence, closing the door behind her.
"Bradley, is that you?"
Isabella cursed.
Marybeth walked into the living room with a purse over her shoulder, frowning when she saw her daughter. "Bella? Why are you home early?"
Isabella sighed nervously before walking over to her mother. "Something happened in school and I had to come home early."
"What happened?" Marybeth crossed her arms over her chest.
"I don't want to talk about it, okay?" Isabella muttered, hoping her mother would drop the subject.
"Then it must not have been that important for you to come home early." Marybeth checked the time on her watch and sighed. "Listen, next time, tell me if there's an emergency so I can pick you up or something. I don't want the school calling me to say you're skipping class," she declared.
"Okay, sorry." Isabella glanced at her mother and noticed she was wearing a blouse with denim jeans and wedges. "Where are you going?"
"I'm going to the store to buy groceries, so eat something light until I get back to cook dinner."
"Okay."
"Love you." Marybeth placed a small kiss on Isabella's forehead and walked to the garage door, leaving the house.
"Love you," Isabella murmured to herself. She heard the garage open and made her way upstairs.
She couldn't stop thinking about Aiden. He wouldn't tell her what was on his mind or who he spoke to on the phone. There were many scenarios of what could be wrong, and Isabella kept thinking about the worst-case scenarios.
She just wanted to figure out what was wrong.
Isabella entered her bedroom, slumped on the bed, and laid on her back.
She was looking at the ceiling when her back pocket vibrated, frustrating her. She lifted her hips to retrieve the phone from her pocket and laid back to see who was bothering her.
She stared at the phone screen and saw it was a text message.
From Aiden.
AIDEN
Bella, I'm sorry I yelled at you! Please talk to me.
Isabella read the message and could hear the desperation. She felt a pang of guilt, trying to figure out what to say.
AIDEN
Angel, please talk to me.
The lump in her throat rose, and she felt tears in her eyes.
Isabella finally went to her contacts, clicking on his name. She put the phone against her ear, listening to the three rings. After the third ring, she heard breathing on the other line.
"Bella." Aiden's raspy breathing continued. "Bella, I'm so sorry about what happened. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."
Was he crying?
Isabella sat up on the bed. "Aiden . . . I'm worried about you. All I'm trying to do is help you."
The phone was silent; she couldn't hear his voice. Isabella wondered why he wasn't saying anything. "Aiden?"
"I'm here," he mumbled. "I know you're trying to help, but I can't bear losing you."
"What do you mean?" Isabella frowned.
She heard sniffling coming through the phone and was on edge now that she confirmed he was crying. "I can't tell you," he paused as his breathing escalated. "Fuck. I-I'll talk to you later."
Without letting her reply, Aiden hung up the phone, shocking Isabella. She pulled the phone away from her ear, seeing the dark screen flashback to the home screen.
Aiden hung up on her.
Isabella dropped the phone on her bed and laid back down. She was losing him, but she didn't know if she had done something to lose his trust.
She couldn't get the whole truth out of him, and she did not want to lose him to this either.
꧁ ༄ ꧂
It had been a few hours since Isabella came home and laid in bed, ruminating.
Her tears hadn't stopped. He was leaving her in anguish with his distance, making her even more curious about his secret.
There was a soft knock on Isabella's door. She heard the door open with a slight creak from its hinges and shifted her head, seeing her mother.
"Are you going to come out of your room anytime soon?" Marybeth asked with a hand on her hip.
Isabella turned her head back at the ceiling, not answering her. Another lump appeared in her throat as more tears trailed down her face.
"¿Miel, lo que está mal?" (Honey, what's wrong?) Now Marybeth was worried. She cautiously walked to the bed and sat down. Isabella sat up, leaning her back on the headboard. "Bella, ¿qué pasó? ¿Por qué estás llorando?" (Bella, what happened? Why are you crying?) Marybeth asked, resting her hand on Isabella's shoulder.
Isabella stared at her mother with puffy eyes. "¿Tenemos que hablar de eso, Mamá?" (Do we have to talk about it, Mom?)
"Sí, cariño." (Yes, sweetie.) Marybeth nodded, wiping the tears away from Isabella's face.
"Fine, but can we talk in English now?" Isabella muttered.
"Okay." Marybeth cleared her throat. Isabella's mother usually spoke Spanish when she was mad, desperate, or sad about something. "Now, what's wrong?"
Isabella sighed before explaining. "Aiden and I were at his house and he was acting weird again. I asked him what was wrong, but he snapped at me, saying he couldn't tell me anything. I'm scared. All I want to do is help him.
"I don't know what to do because I don't know if he's doing something that would hurt him." Isabella couldn't speak anymore for a moment, her throat growing tight. Her mom embraced her in a tight hug, and she wrapped her arms around Marybeth, crying on her shoulder. "I don't want anything to happen to him."
"It's okay, baby," Marybeth whispered. "I know you're worried about him, but maybe he's just going through something that's difficult to talk about."
"Then he would tell me about it," Isabella argued.
"Just try giving him a little more time. I'm sure it's not because he doesn't trust you or anything. It's probably something else."
"Okay."
"Good." Marybeth kissed Isabella's temple and got off the bed. "Now, if you want dinner, I suggest you get your butt up and go to the kitchen," she warned before walking out of the room.
Marybeth was right. Isabella would just have to wait for Aiden to relax before speaking to him about this troubling secret. He was there for Isabella when she needed him, and she would be there for him no matter what, like always.
