The Good Enough Friend (YA)

Chapter Thirty One - November 8, 2019 [✔]

Two weeks passed since I'd cut ties with Wyatt. Wyatt was the one who made plans for us. He would call, saying he was outside of my house, and I would hop into the car. He never wanted to be at home. 90% of my schedule adapted to his leaving me with no choice but to clear the huge calendar on my bedroom wall. Cooped up in the house with no one to whisk me away, I grew bored.

Along with the boredom came silence. My brain didn't buzz or echo. As if I used an enormous wrecking ball, my mountain of guilt eroded to a pile of ash. How many days had I suffered from loud and negative thoughts? This new silence was a breath of fresh air.

I picked at my lunch: turkey and steak crumbled over thin slices of bell peppers, carrots, and cucumber. Dad seasoned it with red crushed peppers, and garlic powder. Colorful and balanced, it was perfect. When things were busy at home I ate alone. Therefore, doing it at school wasn't a big adjustment.

I browsed my socials on my phone. My fingers moved on their own accord. Milo's profile appeared. In his most recent photo he studied in the library. A tower of books, uncapped pens, and index cards haphazardly strewn across the table. I loved how hardworking he was.

I experienced a sharp pang of jealousy. In every photo, he was surrounded by people. He had a lot of friends. I wondered what it was like to live like that.

"Stalking my UpTo, hmmm?" Milo leaned over my shoulder as I turned my phone facedown.

Was I that tuned into my phone? How long was he there?

I turned my torso to face him, "Doom scrolling. What's up?"

"Indoor skate park. Grand opening.  You should come," he handed me a tiny blue flyer.

He remembered that you skate.

I read the information on the flyer, committing it to memory. Snow peppered the ground making it unsuitable for rollerblading. Unless, one was a professional, which I wasn't. An indoor skate park was a perfect solution.

He said he would text a time to meet. The skate park was a 17 minute drive from my house. However, it was within walking distance for him.

"Can't wait!" I couldn't hold back my smile as excitement emanated off of me in waves.

Spending time with the boy of my dreams would be the best. A chance to know him better than I already do, learn more about who he is and what he likes. I had a great interest in Milology, the study of Milo.

"Nice. What have you been up to?" he asked.

There were oh so many ways to answer him. Healing a broken heart, seeing how many bags of white cheddar popcorn I can eat in a day, searching for a therapist. Which was the best?

"This and that,"

"Can I ask something?" he made himself comfortable and sat next to me.

His shoulder was mere inches from mine. Expo markers mixed with bergamot was his unique scent. His hair was pulled out of his face by a hair clip. I tried my hardest to not to freak out.

"Sure."

"You can do a two-minute plank?"

"Yeah, at my best,"

"So cool," he said with a hint of awe in his voice as he walked off. His praises did wonders for the swarm of butterflies in my stomach.

He's so cool.

I spent the rest of my lunch thinking of how much fun we would have at the skate park. I'd only ever been to roller rinks.

Penelope's threat didn't go away after I told Wyatt that I liked Milo. I misunderstood the graveness of the situation. She wasn't going to just tell Wyatt, she was going to tell everyone and ruin everything. Ruin the pace I'd set, ruin my non-existence social media presence and push me into a mess I couldn't clean.

Her Milo-obsessed goons used her database to track his movements. Would they come after me? What could they do? We were high schoolers. They wouldn't hurt me. They weren't criminals.

I calmed myself down. Being inside of my head this much was never a good sign.

"I'm sorry, what was the question?" I asked.

Ms. Li, the guidance counselor, repeated, "How are you?"

It was maddening how those three words sent me into such a spiral. I squeezed the front of my sweater, unbuttoning the first few buttons. I never knew how to answer. Never knew what the right answer was.

"Too hot?" she leaned over and cracked the window. "Better?"

Cool air moved into the office.

"Mm."

"You selected one university to apply to next autumn. It's mandatory to choose six."

"I'm going to S.H.U."

"Aren't there other universities that piqued your interest?"

There weren't. My parents would have a mental breakdown if I switched gears like that. This was was decided before I was born.

My grandfather went to S.H.U.

My parents went to S.H.U.

Zeriah will go to S.H.U.

I would too.

I explained to her the a waste of time it would be and resources to apply to other universities because ultimately S.H.U. was the only option.

As administration often does, she poked and prodded for reasons why, promising this was a huge mistake. She told a vivid story of someone who didn't get into their first choice and it ruined his life.

Rubbing my eyelid, I counted the number of tacks on the bulletin board behind her head.

She pursed her lips and an unreadable expression crossed her face. "GPA 3.37/4.0, not good enough. No involvement in extra curriculars. No outstanding achievements. No volunteer work." 

Her ear length bob swished as she shook her head side to side, "Those recruiters will see it's your third year of high school and you've done the bare minimum: attending class."

Her sharp words pierced through my skull. I sank into the chair. 

Let her help you.

"Ms. Li, what do I need to do?"

Her eyes twinkled, "Let's start with that GPA..."