A Girl Named Sweetie

11. The Message

Sweetie's POV

He's been acting weird lately. No, not running-around-naked-while-yodeling-weird. Just... different. Very, very different.

First of all, since when does Jacob Harrison invite anyone to his house? Second, since when does he invite me to his house, and act almost... nice?

Usually I'm not into skepticism, but when someone makes it extremely clear to someone else that under no circumstances will they ever have even a shred of tolerance for them, well, that tends to be final.

"Hey... uh, hey, Sweetie. Thanks for coming over last night. It's good that we got the project done, you know? Maybe we could get together... you know, to make sure that we got it all done."

I turn towards the voice sounding from behind me, and I'm immediately met with those eyes that I think I'm falling in l- that I think I like. Weird, he's weird. Right? Yeah. His weirdness is rubbing off on me.

"Sure, Jake!" I smile, and just for a second, I think I see the corners of his mouth twitching up before they're pushed back down into a faint scowl.

Sometimes, I think that maybe he likes me back. A-as a friend. A friend! Just a friend.

Right?

•••

Sweetie, please talk to me.

You can't keep this up forever.

Jesus Christ, it was a joke. That's it. Can you calm your tits?

Fine. I don't need this. Hope you enjoyed our friendship. I sure didn't.

I stare at the pixilated messages on my screen, my eyes tracing over every letter. The phrase "Sent: 1hr ago" pops out, bouncing around in my brain, echoing you should've been there, you should've been there. If I had just been looking at my phone instead of thinking about Jacob Harrison, I wouldn't be in this mess.

Not that it's his fault. It's my own fault for being so stupid! How could I do this to my best friend?

I try desperately to text her back, my thumbs tapping the screen every nanosecond with apologies and deleted excuses.

The apologies and deleted excuses don't go through.

Blocked, blocked, blocked. She blocked me. Of course she did! Who wouldn't? If I had a terrible friend who acted like she didn't care about me, I'd - well, I wouldn't block her, but give her a severe talking-to.

I let my phone slip out of my fingers and land with a soft thump as I stretch out on my twin-sized bed, facing the crack in the ceiling. When we first moved in, my mother told me that it was the universe's way of connecting us to our father, a small opening that we can't go through, but our father can. Whenever he thought we needed him, he'd float through, and comfort us in a way that we couldn't see.

I wonder if he used the opening to cheat on mom with the other Sweetie.

No, that's mean. He's my father! It was a mistake, just one mistake. He'd want me to understand. He'd want me to—

Buzz. The phone casts a light on the ceiling in the otherwise dark room, alerting me to someone's text just in case I didn't hear the vibration.

Maybe it's Lily! Maybe she's ready to forgive me.

I turn my head at an unnatural angle, craning to see the device that either brings good news from Lily, or nothing of value.

Okay, so maybe it's neither.

Meet me at the park in 20. -Jake

•••

[A/N: Oh my GOSH, it's been so long since I've updated. I had a small episode due to stress and I needed some time to heal. The chapters might be short and kinda shitty until finals are over and I really get back on my feet. Thank you so, so much for being so patient.

In other motherfucking news, HOLY SHIT WE REACHED 168 VIEWS! That's insane. I can't believe this! And ho-ly-shit, 40 votes. I did not expect that. I'm so happy you guys like it! I'm currently working on the plot of another story for when I finish up this one. That's all I have to say!

Again, thank you so much for everything - especially for your patience as I'm going through this. I love you all!]