I didn't leave the room today. I was just exhausted mentally, and the entire situation with Yvonne and Derek was doing me no good. It wasn't healthy, and drained my social battery.
The past dominated my thoughts. The very first time Yvonne and I became close friends. I remember it like it was yesterday; her cornrowed hair, her blouse and headphones, and meeting her at the chess club as she was setting up flyers.
"Yeah, just put it over there." She instructed another student who held the flyer, "Perfect. Cece!"
I turned to look at her, "Hey, you."
"How are you doing? I figured you'd be here." She smiled.
"Of course, I mean this is my club for crying out loud." I chuckle nervously, "Whatchu doing here?"
"Me? Oh, just sticking up some flyers for the interact club. You know, for those interested to join the club." She winked, "You should join, it'd be so much fun."
"You came to fish for members? Heck no." I joked, "But I will consider your offer."
"Why don't you come over and consider it? I mean, besides me convincing you, we could study....and get to know each other better! How's that?" She beamed at me. How could I say no to that?
"Of course, Yvonne. Just give me your address, and I'll be there after school." I agree, and she hugs me tight.
"You're the best." She rubs my back, "The absolute best."
I smile at the little memory. After a fun afternoon of studying, laughing and playing games together, we became even closer. But I do suppose the day I knew that I definitely liked her, was probably when I went to her house one afternoon, mainly because she didn't come to school that day. I was worried, as after her mom let me in, I made my way upstairs and found her in her room, on the floor, leaning on the bed. This was the very first time I felt something else, something different. She had just lost her father, and this was when I first saw the cracks in her perfect façade.
She was slumped on the floor, her hands shielding her face. I knelt beside her, and tried to remove her hands from her face.
"Let me go!" She murmured, "Just let me go." She whispered.
"Yvonne, it's me. Cece." I say quietly, and she slowly lowers her hands.
Her eyes were bloodshot red, showing that she had cried for hours on end. Her cheeks were still wet, and her lips were dry and chapped. I almost broke down at the sight, not used to seeing the perfectly dressed Yvonne like this.
"Are you okay? You weren't in school..."
"I..I lost my dad, Cece." She sniffed, "I didn't want to go today."
"What happened?" I asked her, sitting in front of her.
She wiped her cheeks, "He...he had cardiac arrest and died in his sleep. Mom didn't see it coming...neither did I. He...passed on last night."
I frowned, and reached for her. She hugged me back tightly, and I felt a hot tear land on my bare skin. She was crying again, and I hugged her even tighter. We were like that for sometime, and when she felt she was okay, she pulled back.
She then reached on the bed for her headphones, smiling at them, "My dad gave these to me for my 16th birthday. I loved them so much, and I never knew how much it would be an asset in my life."
"I see that you two were close, huh?" She nodded, "Well, at least you have a memento."
She put them on the ground, and I wiped a stray tear, "Don't cry, your beautiful face can't take anymore." I placed my hand on her cheek, caressing it gently.
She smiled again, "You think I'm beautiful?"
"You're stunning in my eyes, Yvonne." I murmured, "Don't cry. I'm always going to be here for you, no matter what."
"You're a great friend." She leaned in, and placed a kiss on my cheek, "Thank you."
She pulled away, and I lay on the floor. She lay besides me, our hands meeting, and we both looked at the ceiling as we lay in silence. The silence was comfortable, as if we were communicating without words. I felt something in this silence, something that was inexplicable. Maybe I didn't want to be just friends with her, maybe I wanted to be more. Maybe I wanted to show her the beauty in the world.
Maybe I wanted to be the one to show her how beautiful she is, and how you can move on from loss.
Sitting straight, the memory helped me think of a plan. I looked around the room, and saw the phone that she uses for music. I remembered that she gave me access to it when we first became friends, and I thought of a plan.
Standing up and moving to her bed, my hands reach for the phone. Unlocking it, I search for the sound recorder, and began recording.
This may not help me now, but it will definitely help me in the future.