Pause, Replay

Seven

A/N: The whole block of text in italics is a flashback! Please let me know if you found it confusing :3

Dear Diary,

So, I ate lunch with Kara today.

Yeah, I know.

I'm still utterly shocked and my hands are shaking wildly as I write this.

 I was in the washroom at lunch, pretending to fuss over my appearance when I was really thinking about where I'd be eating lunch. Patrick had yet another student council meeting and I couldn't eat at the park across from school anymore because Marquette High's very own abomination (also know as jocks) and their girlfriends (girls like Kara) had taken it over. Not that I'm scared of them or anything. Far from that actually; I just want to be able to keep my lunch down, which is something I can't do around a bunch of horny teenagers making out or broadcasting their meaningless conversations to the world in  their annoyingly loud and obnoxious voices.

Anyway, I was busy reapplying Chapstick to my dry lips when Kara burst out of a stall. She kind of looked like she'd been crying. Her green eyes were puffy and rimmed pink (probably from wiping the tears away) and her normally glossy brown hair was disheveled and matted, like a bird's nest. I felt bad for her, but didn't say anything because in that moment, all I could do was remember.

I remembered the time our roles were reversed. It had been the day after Sloane's death. Mom and Dad had forced me to go to school. They had said something along the lines of, "You need to focus on something different so that the pain will fade away."

Of course, for them, "something else" wasn't catching up on my favorite shows. It was school. Academics. Work. Go figure.

But their efforts proved futile because that day, all I could think about was Sloane. How she was gone, how I missed her, but mostly, how it was all my fault.

By third period, I couldn't hold it in any longer. My French teacher, Mrs.Chan, scolded me for not doing my homework and I lost it. I pushed my chair back, piled my stuff one atop another and stormed out of class, making sure to slam the door on my way out. I imagined that I was releasing all my grief, all my anger in that crazy spur-of-the-moment decision. But I knew the truth. Everything was still inside, slowly corroding my heart until there was nothing left. Until I was no longer myself, but just an empty shell, the shadow of the girl I once was.

That day, I went straight to the bathroom and locked myself in a stall. Then I let myself fall agaisnt the wall, not caring about all the questionable characters who had certainly left some germs behind, and cried. I buried my head in my hands and wailed. Then I banged my head against the wall because why the hell was I crying? I had no right to cry.

I wasn't dead, lying six feet under.

No, I was very much alive and in that moment, I hated myself for it.

Just then, there was a knock on the stall's door.

"What?" I croaked.

"Um, why are you hogging the bathroom?"

I froze, recognizing Kara's voice immediately. I got up, flushed the toilet for good mesure, dusted off my pants and opened the door wide. I must have looked like a mess because her eyes got big as she took me in. But she didn't say anything and I understood why when I saw her friends standing at the sink, eyeing me up and down.

"Move, freak," she hissed, loud enough for them to hear, before pushing past me and entering the stall.

We'd been friends since pre-k up until sophomore year and that's all she could tell me, her distressed ex-best friend.

''Move, freak'

The words prickled under my skin and stayed there for a vey long time.

"Hi," she said shyly as leaned forward to check my lips for any misplaced Chapstick.

I ignored her.

"Hey," she got closer and suddenly I was breathing in a soft, fragrance. "You look awful."

"Gee, thanks. Here I was thinking I was a supermodel."

She shaked her head, bringing all her hair to one side and clarified,"No, I don't mean like that, I mean...you look tired, exhausted, even."

It was true, I hadn't been sleeping well lately, but I didn;t think anyone would notice. Especially not her. I don't know how I felt about that.

She peered up in my face, then searched trough her makeup bag. "You have these bags under your eyes. I could help you with that."

"You probably had a lot of practice," I muttered to myself.

"What?"

I whirled to look her straight in the eye. "Covering up hickeys from all those guys you were with?"

She took a step back as if I slapped her then, tight-lipped, handed me her M.A.C compact and concealer. "Here."

"We're not the same skintone." I was a dark bronze while she could barely tan during the summer.

"Oh," her hand slowly withdrawed. "Right."

I headed for the door when she grabbed my arm. "Jay, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

She had the decency to look down as she said. "For last week in gym and for what I said about Sloane."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

She frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It means I'll think about it."

"About my apology?"

"Yeah, what else?"

She smiled at that. "I miss you. I miss us being friends."

I didn't know what to say to that so I just looked at her.

"Do you want to have lunch?"

"With you and your friends? No thank you."

"No, I think I need a break for them. It'll be just you and me, I swear."

I didn't press on because she seemed uncomfortable.

We ate lunch at this pizzeria a few blocks down from school and talked and talked and talked. We started off tentatively with grades and teachers then we moved on to celebrities and stupid fandoms and by the time we were walking back home I was laughing my butt off as she told me about the time her dog peed on her crush.

It felt amazing going over those moments in our lives where the other wasn't present, but more than that. It felt right. We'd gone through so much--her parent's divorce, our crushes and life in general--that it felt awful to not be at the very least friends.

I don't think I realized how much I missed her until today.

Don't get me wrong; I still don't  forgive her, but something tells me I'm well on my way.

Sincerely, Jaïya 

Wow! Um, 1120-something words makes this the second longest chapter! What do you think? Should Jay forgive Kara? Should they--gasp--be friends again?

What do you guys think of Kara?

Did you understand the flashback part or was it totally confusing?

We haven't seen much of the therapist in a while so next chapter will be in therapy and you'll get some back story on Sloane. How she and Jay met, ect.

Don't forget to vote and comment if you liked this!

This is unedited so feel free to point out errors!

Amanda xo