Chloe Morgan is your average teenager.
However, with her sarcastic comebacks, cynical attitude, and the tendency to push everyone away, it seems like the last thing she wants is to surround herself with friends and enjoy the rest of her summer vaca...
"Billy, wait!" I shout, chasing after him. I couldn't live with myself knowing that I'm the catalyst of his heartbreak. I need to apologize... I refuse to allow this to create distance between us. Since we were kids, I've always protected Billy; I just would have never thought I would have needed to protect him from myself.
Outside of the movie theater, I find Billy with his back pressed against the wall. His hollow eyes cast over towards me and he waits for me to approach him. I know that he needs to hear the words I'm sorry... But I've never been capable of that. I have to say something, no matter how stupid it might seem. He deserves at least that much. However, I can't seem to find the words.
From his tall height, Billy looks down at me. His expression lacks emotion and his tone of voice is apathetic when he blatantly asks me, "What do you want, Chloe?"
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With hesitation, I continue to stare at him. I've never been quite good enough with articulating my thoughts - especially when it requires emotional vulnerability. I realize that if I can't offer him an apology, I should at least offer him an answer - that's what he wanted in the first place.
I sigh heavily and then speak to him, "I'm a bad person," I declare candidly, "I know that... I fucked up... I know that too... These are the few things that I know."
I'm not sure what to expect. Perhaps Billy might understand me. Perhaps Billy might forgive me. Although I'm hoping for the best, I'm prepared for the worst. I don't want to become too optimistic in regards to the situation. However, I'm anticipating some form of response. Therefore, I'm simply waiting for that precious smile to return to his face.
Unfortunately, I receive nothing in return for my effort. Instead, I'm deeply wounded when he scoffs at me with disdain, "Is that your idea of an apology?" he sneers.
"Yes..." I confirm timorously.
"Well, you're gonna have to do better than that," he demands.
"What do you want me to say, Billy?" I exclaim with a trembling voice. Then suddenly, the emotions I have suppressed exploded like a volcano, "You should know that I would never intentionally want to hurt you!
I've always cared about you. I've always been there for you. I've always protected you. Apparently, you seem to have forgotten I was the one who you told your secrets to in our treehouse," I hold back the burning tears and clench my teeth, the surge of emotions flooding through my body when I continue to vent my frustration, "When we were kids, I was the one who wiped your tears and disposed of your snotty tissues. How could you possibly believe that I would stab you in the back when I'm the one who put clothes on it?
