Friends Forever, huh?

Chapter 6| the human incarnation of disaster

The next morning light is shining through my open curtains, preventing me from staying asleep. I groan, rising to my feet as every bone in my body cracks. I pull the  curtains closed and promptly fall back into bed.

I had good intentions of getting up...but my lover beckons me back.

Just to clarify, by lover I mean my bed. It's loyal, warm, and doesn't screw me over like people do.

Ahem. Not that I'm bitter or anything.

I release a contented sigh as I stretch across my bed. Weekends. The one part of the year that keeps high schoolers sane.

When I eventually make my way downstairs, I see my mother asleep on the couch, seemingly too exhausted to make her way upstairs. I smile fondly at her, proceeding to the kitchen. If I'm quiet enough I can make lemon poppy seed muffins--her favorite--for her before she wakes up.

Unfortunately, in my rush to do something kind for my mother, I forgot one minor detail: I can't bake. If it has anything to do with preparing food, I will find a way to turn it into a disaster. Once I was making oatmeal raisin cookies and I forgot to add the oatmeal. Like I said, I'm a disaster.

Regrettably, this revelation comes after I've mixed up the batter and put the muffins in the oven. To make a long story short, I forgot to set the timer and the muffins were practically black when they came out and I failed to add eggs. Only small mistakes.

I sigh, placing my head on my forehead. All I wanted was to surprise her with something nice. But no, I'm too disastrous for that.

The smoke alarm goes off. I frantically pull the muffins from the oven...and she chooses that precise moment to wake up.

"Ashley!" My mother walks into the kitchen, exasperation evident in her tone. Shoot. Not only have I created a mess, but I've awoken my clearly exhausted mother as well.

"I'll clean it up, I promise!" I wince, turning around to face her as the smoke alarm blares, giving me a major headache.

Mom considers me for a moment, seemingly unsure if she should be angry or amused. She seems to settle on an in-between, laughing as she calls me the human equivalent of a disaster. I don't argue with her, partially because she's right.

Thirty minutes later, I'm scraping burnt muffin out of the pan as she speaks, curiosity lacing her tone, "how was it seeing Cole last night?"

I sigh, running a hand through my hair, "he's infuriating."

"And?" She presses, clearly waiting for me to elaborate.

"And...for the past two years, all I wanted was for him to come back. Now I almost wish he would have stayed. He's so different."

Mom gives me a conflicted look, "give him some time, honey. He just got back...don't give up on him quite yet."

"One last thing. Stay away from me, Cole. Thanks for coming back and screwing up my life."

"Screw you, Cole Brighton. Screw you."

I don't regret my words. I can't get close to him, especially after the way he's treated me since he's been back. If I want to avoid more heartbreak, I need to stay far away from the boy who used to be my best friend. Of course, completely staying away from him isn't an option--not with this English project. But in six weeks, when this project is over, we can go back to the way it was when he was gone. After all, nothing but the ache in my heart will remain of him after high school. I can adjust to that constant feeling of missing him. I did it once. I can do it again.

I can stop caring about him...and even if I can't, I can pretend well enough. I've been pretending that I don't care about him for a couple years now, how hard can it be to continue?

Suddenly I realize the naïvety in my daydreams about reuniting with Cole. After two years, did I truly believe that nothing would have changed between us? Did I truly believe he would come back pining for me? That's the summary of my life: setting sky high expectations that constantly disappoint me. Reality always seems to dash my hopes.

If my dreams were the titanic, reality is the iceberg. Despite all my disappointments, I continue to expect life to hand me something nice. Something I want--like Cole, a kind Cole, coming back to me. That clearly isn't happening.

I shake my head in response to my mother's statement, "I should have given up on him years ago."

"Ashley..."

"I have a headache, mom. I'm going upstairs."

I pull my closet door open, searching for an orange packet that I know contains hundreds of pictures of Cole and I--pictures I haven't seen in years. When I find it, I pull it open, causing an avalanche of pictures. Hundreds of snaps of the two of us, smiling and laughing. Happy.

The first one catches my eye; his arm is looped around my shoulder, an easy smile on his face. I'm laughing, my eyes focused on him instead of the camera.

"It looks like an axe murderer is hiding in there," I cross my arms, refusing to comply with his requests, "I'm not going in those woods!"

He nudges me with his elbow, "Don't worry sunshine, if any big bad monsters try to hurt you, I'll fight them off." He flexes his muscles, trying his best to look heroic. I snort, not bothering to hide my laughter. He looks ridiculous.

"Don't laugh at your knight in shining armor, Ash," he says, looking genuinely offended.

I only laugh harder.

He wraps an arm around my shoulder, "I've got you, babe." I stuck out my tongue at him and he returns the favor, ruffling my hair in the process. I scowl at him, but my façade of anger drops quickly as he winks at me.  Then a camera flashes, capturing the moment forever.

I always loved that about photographs--the people may change, but the picture will remain the same. The memory is saved forever.

He changed. I must remind myself that he changed. Otherwise I'll get swept up in the tide of warm hugs and terrible jokes that define Cole to me. Then missing him will be unbearable--only getting worse when I remember I'll see him nearly every day. But it will never be the same.

Perhaps that's one of the worst kinds of pain: knowing that the one you care for is within reach but they don't return your affection. Not by a long shot.

I stare at the picture a moment longer before ripping it in half, effectively separating the two of us. Just the way it is today.

I shove the container of pictures in a corner and swear to never look at them again. Never. I will forget him, I must.

***

Whew! I've written 6 chapters for this in 4 days, so that has been fun. I actually enjoy the mass amount of writing I've gotten done. Anyhow, I tried to incorporate more interaction between Ashley and her mom in this chapter, so I hope you liked that!

Side Note: I actually did forget to put oatmeal in my oatmeal raisin cookies once. I'm not even kidding.

-J