Requested by Emeraldjademoon12
—(Y/N)'S POV—
It's really tough being a girl in school. The boys spread rumors about me, and the girls don't want anything to do with me. I try to tell the teachers, but they are no help at all. Man, school sucks, and I was really starting to hate my life. It was time to go home and I began walking home, deciding to get a pick-me-up on the way.
As I approached a nearby coffee shop, I never would've guessed that I made my first friend.
—CORALIE'S POV—
It was just another boring day of being a runaway. I've been hanging around this coffee shop for what felt like hours. I checked the time, 3:46 PM. Where could my cousin be? Desperate, I rang her.
Coralie: Hello?
Coralie's Cousin: Heya, Cor!
Coralie: Heya. Where exactly are you?
Coralie's Cousin: Out shopping.
Coralie: You- you never told me you went shopping!
Coralie's Cousin: I know I should've told you beforehand...I'm sorry.
Coralie: *sigh* Are you done?
Coralie's Cousin: Nope. I have about five or six items left.
Coralie: Wh...you haven't finished yet??
Coralie's Cousin: Chill. I'm coming straight for you after shopping.
Coralie: How much longer do I need to wait before you come back?
Coralie's Cousin: Give me about 20-30 minutes.
Coralie: Ok then...don't be late.
Coralie's Cousin: I won't.
I hung up. Why didn't they tell me they had other plans? I took a deep breath and exhaled. Just have some patience.
As I went outside, I saw another girl with a black eye. This concerned me, so I went up to her.
Coralie: Goodness. Who gave you that?
—(Y/N'S) POV—
What I heard couldn't have been real. I didn't want to believe it, but I had no choice but to accept that another girl has expressed concern for me. What's more, she looked appealing with long red hair, rounded glasses, and cat headphones.
(Y/n): I just came back from school, and one of the boys in my class did this to me.
I sighed at my answer to the girl, but then I heard something different.
Coralie: Sit down, let's talk.
Wait, she actually wants to talk to me? I has trouble believing it, but it was really happening alright. So I sat down on an outdoor table chair across from her.
(Y/n): Okay, first off, who are you? And why do you have concern for me?
Coralie: Name's Coralie. Why do I have concern for you you say? Well, both of us are girls. I think we should look out for each other right?
Never did I think I would hear those words in my entire life. I'm beginning to gain faith in myself. Maybe I should talk with her more.
(Y/n): I...thank you.
Coralie: Mhm. Who are you, by the way?
(Y/n): Name's (Y/n):
Coralie: Okay.
(Y/n): So...you come here often?
Coralie: Eh, not really. I'm only here because I'm waiting for someone.
(Y/n): Who are you waiting on?
Coralie: I'm waiting on a friend of mine. Well, she's not really a friend. She's my cousin.
(Y/n): Ah. K.
There was a moment of silence before I thought I should keep the conversation going. She just sat there and stared at me, occasionally adjusting her glasses.
(Y/n): So...how's it going?
Coralie: It's...decent for me. And you?
I was tempted to hold back the truth, but I had a certain feeling inside of me. It was like...I could trust her. After taking a deep breath, I let it out of my chest.
(Y/n): It's seriously awful. I'm constantly getting mistreated by boys and girls alike at my school. And it's not just today. I get a daily dose of that. I try to look up to the teachers, but what do they do? NOTHING! ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!
I was beginning to lose myself.
(Y/n): Life just SUCKS! I almost want to give up on life...
Coralie was visibly taken aback by my shouting as her head sinks low and she averts her eyes. I thought she was startled by my shouting, but then I heard the unexpected again.
Coralie: ...I have it bad, too.
Does she suffer the same fate as me? I thought about it, as I tempted her to go on.
(Y/n): It's okay. You can tell me.
Coralie: No...I'd rather not...
(Y/n): Please? It's okay, you can trust me.
Coralie: ...why should I tell you?
(Y/n): Well, we're girls, and we should always have each others' backs, right?
Coralie stared at me then slightly cracked a smile.
Coralie: Now where have I heard that before...?
We both share a cute and genuine laugh, which was the first one ever I had in my life. It felt...really good. Like my life has meaning again.
Coralie: Alright...where to start...
I adjusted my seating and prepared to listen to a story.
Coralie: Well, when I was around 5 or 6, I unknowingly kidnapped people for my father. I asked him why, and he said that they were "sacrifices". I don't know what the heck he meant, but I just shook it off. But in time, I began to learn more about my father. The people chosen and kidnapped as sacrifices were for his cult. When I got older, I saw him holding a brain in a jar. And it was labeled...mother.
Coralie's voice began to break as she held back a tear or two.
Coralie: I realized that my father has killed her...and it was too much for me to take in. It was so severe that I ended up running away from home to get away from the cult. And now, here I am...
It took me about a minute to take in what she said. Geez, sounds like her life is worse than mine. I guess it was really bad and traumatic for her, as I saw a few tears streaming down her cheeks.
I did what came instinctively; I got up from my seat and gave her a warm hug.
Coralie: ...what are you-
I cut her off.
(Y/n): I'm really, really sorry for what happened to you.
Coralie just sat there in silence, before she eventually returned the hug.
Coralie: (Y/n)...thank you. I'm also sorry for what you had to go through.
While we hugged, a red Porsche drove up to coffee shop we were at and the window rolled down, revealing two young women.
Coralie's Cousin: Hey hey hey! Looks like my little Cor is finally making friends.
Coralie just blankly stared at her as the door to the Porsche opened.
Coralie: Well, my ride is here. Take care, I guess I'll see you later.
I approached her.
(Y/n): Friends?
Coralie looked down for a moment and places a hand by her face. Then she got in the Porsche as the window rolled down. She looked to me and smiles.
Coralie: Friends.