It was a Sunday night, and I still couldn’t erase the fact that I was about to be raped by a guy on Friday that I thought was really sorry. Elaine. I was also surprised at the fact that Vincent had fought him just for me; I didn’t think he cared for me much since I didn’t really hang around his type of people anymore.
As soon as I busted inside my house when I ran from it all, I placed a fake smile on my face to assure John and my mom that I was fine, but when I got upstairs to my room, I locked it and cried my eyes out. I was upset and astonished that I was that close to having forced physical contact with another body. And I was torn up because of course I’ve almost gone all the way with a guy, but it was because I was getting caught up in it, too. This time, Elaine was the only one getting caught up, and I tried to stop it. If it hadn’t been for my random inner strength, I probably would’ve been screwed.
I sat at my bed while the lights were on, my mom and Haley were already asleep, and they had to leave early in the morning with John to Yakima to look for wedding dresses. I know it was a little too soon, but it’s my mother’s decision, not mine. And of course I protested against going, one: because I had school to go to. And I was in no need of having any more absences. So I guess I would be alone in the house, and she permitted to stay with to see Ms. Morse yesterday.
Which reminds me, since I hadn’t gotten a chance to burn my paper of fears on Friday night because I was too shaken up to do so, I did it yesterday, Saturday, and so far, no luck’s coming in like she had promise. But then again, it’s only been one day, I have to be impatient. After I turned off my lights, I went to bed.
I haven’t heard from Elaine since Friday, and I really hope he doesn’t come to school tomorrow.
I woke up slowly the following morning, taking in the fact that I had to get up. I breathed out a sigh and rubbed my eyes, annoyed. I couldn’t really sleep last night, I kept thinking that Elaine would sneak into my house and hurt me. But maybe I was being too paranoid and dramatic, I was safe. Vincent taught him a lesson to leave me alone, so hopefully he’d learn from that.
After I took a quick shower and got into a black shirt, skinny jeans, and my old pair of gray converse, I put my hair in a sloppy bun and grabbed my things, going downstairs to meet Erica at my driveway. I was too scared to walk to school alone, sensing that I’d run into Elaine, so she understood and decided to take me to school, along with herself.
During the ride, she kept apologizing over and over again how she was sorry of what happened on Friday between Brandon and I, but I told her not to worry about it, and that it wasn’t her fault. But as soon as she bought that up again, I frowned, finding another reason to be upset about wanting to go to school. Brandon. Yeah, the guy I fell head over heels for now resents me, or at least that’s what I think.
When we got to school, she parked in her parking space and I got out. Our first classes were on different sides of the school, so we separated. I wasn’t nervous about walking alone, school is a safe place, and I knew I wouldn’t have gotten harmed. When I went to my locker in the math hallway, I grabbed my things for my first two classes and heard whispers from a few feet away. Two girls quickly turned back to each other once I caught them glaring at me.
I gazed at them for a few seconds and turned back to my locker, continuing to fetch the things I needed for class, I pretended that I completely tuned out from their whispers, but really, I was just listening in on closer.
“Oh my god,” One of the girls started saying again, “I heard that Elaine Waters tried to do stuff with her Friday night. Apparently they were alone in his house and he just wanted her over for his special reasons.” The girl stated.
I wrinkled my eyebrows at this, continuing to listen as I started playing with random books in my locker, reorganizing them on each shelf to make it seem like I was occupied.
“Yeah, I know!” The other one agreed, “Apparently that wasn’t his first time trying to do stuff with girls. I heard that he’s in a Juvenile detention center, that’s probably why he isn’t at school.”
That’s all I could hear before they went off to class as soon as the bell had rung.
I stood in place for a few seconds, grazing my eyes over my locker and finally shutting it. I stared at it blankly, in the process of a thought. So, wait, he’s at a detention center? That’s tough. But how did anyone find out? Well, it isn’t a surprise that Rumors could be born out of the blue and start spreading. At least he’s not in my hair anymore, as long as I’m safe from him, that’s all that matters. Though I still couldn’t help but to be a little worried, you’d think a detention center is a little too harsh for someone even like Elaine. I had then snapped out of my thoughts and slipped my arms through the straps of my book bag, realizing that I was late to class.
When I got in there, I avoided the random stares and gazes, sitting at my desk. I was a little comfortable; knowing that I was safe for that brief moment had really shunned me.
After my first two classes, it was break time, which would usually be the time to go to your locker. After I fetched my materials for my next classes, I walked off and happened to see Brandon standing by a water fountain. I paused, pretending to tie my converse shoe. I wanted to hear his conversation, and who he was talking too.
“So we can do it tonight, Brooke?” I heard him ask, a flash of hope in his voice. I continued listening, slowly cringing at the fact that Brooke was the one on the line, the person he was communicating with. “I love you, too.” He finally said, hanging up.
I stood back up and clutched my books to my chest, walking pass him. It felt like everything had gone slow motion the moment he laid his eyes on me. His green eyes softened, and he glanced at his cell phone and back at me. I gave him an apologetic stare, continuing to walk on from there.
When I walked out from that hallway, I pushed my back against the wall, thinking about what just happened. What do they plan on doing together, tonight? This thought would buzz in my head for the rest of the day, the night. I sighed at this, the moment his beautiful eyes pierced at me, it was so breath taking, I swear it’d hurt. My heart race had begun to pick up, and I felt so...stupid. Even more than what I did when I stormed away from Eric and Erica’s house after arguing with Brandon about my issues that were between me and Ms. Morse. I felt my fists ball up at the thought of him saying he loved Brooke.
I thought he loved me. I guess not.
My face had scrunched up, and I had a look of fury in my eyes. I was infuriated, I hated him. Then and there…I didn’t want to talk with him. Not at all. At first I felt bad, but now I’m just about to give up on guys overall.
No, screw that; not just guys…but on life itself. I honestly don’t see how life could get any worse than what it already has. After my third class, it was lunch time, which was of course awkward. I only spoke to Aubrey, Erica, Eric, and some other people. Just not with Brandon. He ignored me too, talking with others as well. It was still awkward because people kept glancing at the two of us, probably wondering why we weren’t speaking. Ms. Morse wasn’t here today, so I didn’t have to see her. I was a little relieved; paying visits to her office wasn’t always the most rewarding feeling. After school, Erica dropped me off at my house. I was alone. John, my mom, and Haley were in Yakima, and I was home alone.
Nothing to do…at all.
*****
I tangled my fingers into my hair, running them through it smoothly as I laid on my bed, on my laptop. My mom and Haley wouldn’t be back until late at night, so of course it was no surprise that I felt a little awkward being in the house alone. I was checking my emails to see if Lola had emailed me, and she hadn’t. I breathed out a sigh of exasperation, yeah; she definitely wasn’t kidding when she ended our friendship. But how could she go on without speaking to me? I know she couldn’t. Just like me, I couldn’t go without her, so what makes her so sure she could go on strong? Just as I closed my laptop, feeling so loss with hope as ever, the doorbell had rang.
I jumped a little in place, surprised to hear it that loud, especially since I was all the way upstairs. But I’m at home now, I have to adapt to that.
Sadly, that wasn’t the only reason I jumped. Who could that be? My mom had called me earlier and explained she’d be back around four in the morning. I shifted a glance at my wall clock, seeing that it was almost nine. Okay, so it definitely wasn’t them. I grabbed my chest and shuddered, hoping it wouldn’t be Elaine. The doorbell had ringed again, and I grew startled. I slowly hopped off my bed and stepped out into the hallways, reluctantly going downstairs. I held my cell phone by my side, and I was in an oversized t-shirt and short shorts that you weren’t able to see. I ignored the fact that my hair was annoying me by bobbing up and down on my back.
“Who is it?” I asked as soon as I got to the door. I was scared, but I had to say something.
“It’s me, Michael.” I heard the person say, the voice solid and stiff. And it did sound like Mike. I swallowed even the slightest bit of bravery in me. What’s he doing here?
I swallowed aloud again, gulping as so many thoughts had started bursting everywhere in my head. I closed my eyes tightly. Now, did that voice just say Michael? Michael Wean? That same ex-boyfriend of mines who knocked me unconscious? No, it couldn’t. Maybe it was a different Michael. But did I know any other Michaels?
“Heather, please open the door,” He pleaded with a blank voice that showed no emotion, “I won’t hurt you. I promise.” I quickly ran to my chimney to get one of the metal bars, holding it up in the air as soon as I went back to the door.
“You-you—you said that last time.” I finally snapped, I attempted to sound dangerous, but I ended up stuttering, which wasn’t a really good thing to do when you didn’t want to show people you were frightened. And now wasn’t the time for stutters.
“Okay, fair enough.” He finally sighed out, “But can we talk still, baby? You don’t have to open the door if you don’t want to..” He allowed, he sounded like he’s been through so much for the past few days. And I wouldn’t be surprised; he’s practically still wanted for knocking me out, and I know he’s probably guilty for having his best guy friend take the fall, sitting somewhere in jail, wondering when he had the balls to face up and admit his faults, and take a simple sentence. But since Michael had been hiding out, his punishment will probably be even far worse than what it originally would be; since it took him forever to come clean.
I softened my grip of the metal bar, and for some reason, I found my arm reaching for the doorknob to open the door for him. For some reason, I had a strong intention that he really wasn’t going to hurt me this time.
I twisted the doorknob reluctantly, my palm getting sweatier by seconds. I opened the door just a little bit, not enough for him to slide through. I stared at the small little gap through the door, and my stare had broken as soon as the door opened completely, Michael came pushing through it.
He approached me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I stiffened a little, not sure if I should hug back or not. What is all of this? Where did this come from? This side of him, I mean. I was very confused. He pulled off of me and raked his eyes down my face, an apologetic smile tugging on the sides of his lips. I darted my eyes from side to side, smiling back awkwardly. He finally pulled me closer to him again, burying his face into my hair.
“God, I’m so sorry Heather, I really am,” He murmured, his words coming out in a blur since his face was clearly in my hair.
*****
“Why don’t you just come clean about it already?” I asked while at the kitchen table. He sat across from me, glancing at his cell phone and back at me.
His face had a look of uncertainty, and he shrugged. “It’s not as easy as that, Heather,” He finally replied, his voice sounded cryptic but serious. I liked his voice. I missed it. Although it was kind of awkward, you know, him being in my house, talking to me and all, I was a little thankful that he brightened up my day. Well, night. I didn’t think he would ever want to speak to me again.
“I thought you hated me,” I suddenly claimed, playing with my own cell phone, “I thought you didn’t want to speak to me ever again.”
His eyes had widened at this, and shook his head from side to side, “I should be the one nervous about you not ever speaking to me again.”
I shrugged at this, he did have a point. I chewed on my lip to pass the time as he studied me with those mysterious eyes of his; I’ve missed those mysterious eyes.
“Michael I don’t think Kresten deserves to spend another day in that jail cell,” I finally had the guts to protest against his hiding away, “He didn’t hit me, you did.”
I was a little afraid that he would get angry at me and start yelling at me. But coming to my surprise, a big surprise, he just nodded. “You’re right,” He agreed with me. I arched my eyebrows upwards, having them fall back in their original position again. “I actually came to see you tonight, because I think it’s best that I turn myself in tomorrow morning.” He finally said, showing no emotion through his voice. My heart had thumped at this.
I wanted to beg for him to not do it; but we all know it’s what’s best. For him, for me, and especially for Kresten. He just didn’t deserve to be punished for doing nothing. I swallowed my emotions that yearned for him to not come clean, and I suddenly stood up, my arms opened wide for him. He stood up as well, hugging me by the waist. I wanted to cry right then and there. Here I am; with the guy who had hurt me recently; and now we were being so real and respectful of each other. It’s good to know that we can be civil.
“I’m going to miss you,” His breath was on my neck, and it kind of sent electric sparks all across my body, like waves. We both knew why he had said this. There is a chance, a very good chance that he would probably have a long sentence in jail.
“Same here.” I murmured back, trying to fight off the tears. Now that I knew Michael was at his sweet and calm side, I didn’t want to give him up anymore. I wanted him all to myself; but then I realized that I still had someone in the way. Brandon. Yes, I still love him, even more than I loved Michael. I just couldn’t help it.
“I’ve been feeling guilty ever since they arrested Krest,” He continued to say, not letting go of me yet. I patted him on the back, tightening my arms around his back for a warmer hug. We wanted to make it last.
“I did, too,” I finally added.
I really did feel guilty for Kresten being in jail; specifically because I lied and said he had hit me because I wanted to protect Michael. But now I know better, and I think Mike does, too. After we loosened away from each other, I took a few steps back, examining him. He gave me a look of sureness, and I respected that. He glanced at my lips and back at me.
“I don’t know why I had hurt you; I don’t even know what I was thinking.” He finally confirmed, settling his eyes into mine. I chewed on my lips, glancing at his and back into his eyes. His dark hair gleamed through the lights of the kitchen, “All you wanted was to be left alone, and I took advantage of the fact that we were alone in an alley and...” His voice trailed off as he slowly took a deeper look into my eyes, they twinkled. And in his perspective, my eyes were probably twinkling then and there, too.
He took a step closer to me and cupped my cheek with his hand, placing one hand on the small of my back; he had then pulled me closer, softly blanketing his lips over mine.
I closed my eyes and pressed my hands on his back to pull him closer, I wanted more. This was the first time I ever wanted more of anything from Michael, but I was feeling him at the moment, at the time being. And compared to what I’ve been going through for the past few weeks with Brandon and Elaine and Lola and the pregnancy and my nightmares and everything else, I was desperate to feel happy and feel like I was owed something.
Michael didn’t even resist, in fact, as his lips were on mine, I could feel him slowly easing into a smile. His kissing was soft, not hard and sloppy like they were a while back. It made me want him even more, but then he pulled off of me, running his fingers through my hair. I smiled up at him, and as I did, his face had fallen.
I wrinkled my eyebrows, “What’s wrong?”
He took a few steps away from me, “I should’ve never kissed you, and we broke up. I should just stay away from you. That’s what the police would want, what everyone wants.” He stated.
I shook my head from side to side as a protesting response. That’s not true; wait, was it? He smiled lightly and breathed out a sigh, stepping away from me even more.
“I uh, I’ll see you whenever. Though it stinks to say that it probably won’t be anytime soon.” He confirmed. I frowned at this, I frowned heavily. “Bye,” He mouthed inaudibly, stuffing his hands in his pockets afterwards and walking back into the living room. I followed him, so unready for him to leave. Just as he was going for the door, I did what my brain was fighting for me to do, but what my heart was pleading me not to do.
“Michael, wait.” I called out.
He turned to face me, cocking an eyebrow for being curious. It took me a while to respond, and while my heart kept telling me over and over again to not say what I was thinking about saying, my brain permitted for me to say it, so why not? I opened my mouth, hesitantly doing this, until words finally came out.
“You can have me.” I suddenly allowed briefly. He turned around to me completely, stepping closer to me.
“What?” He asked, not understanding.
I gave him a soft smile, “You can have me. I…I don’t mind. My life is already screwed over so why not?”
He stared at me for a few seconds, and then he started chuckling softly, “Your life isn’t screwed, alright? Don’t say that. And I think it’s best if I don’t have you tonight, or anytime, for that matter,” he stated dismissively. I frowned at this. He smiled one last time and walked out of the front door, closing it from behind.
Another plain, hard, and stupid day of the week. Tuesday. I groaned at this. I quickly sat up, trying to remember last night; when Michael came over to say goodbye, when we shared that kiss...oh, it felt so good knowing this.
After I got ready for school, I decided to just walk there, since Elaine was at some detention center, he couldn’t harm me. He wouldn’t harm me. As I was walking to school, I sighed and had a look of uneasiness on my face; Michael’s probably at the police department right now, admitting his faults, that he was the one who had hit me, not the guy who they thought did it, Kresten. I smiled to myself, knowing that Kresten was going to be out soon was mental music to my ears, finally! I wouldn’t have to be guilty anymore, and Lola wouldn’t be mad at me.
Once I got to school, I went pass that same hallway I spotted Brandon at, talking on the phone with Brooke. A frown had quickly shunned over my face when I realized that he said something about doing something last night with her on his phone conversation, but what was that ‘something’? I also realized that this could’ve been happening the same time Michael came to my house to tell me he was turning himself in. When I went to my locker to get the things I needed for my classes, I went into math class and sat down, doing the warm up without a word. I had no one to talk to in there anyways.
Aubrey or Erica didn’t have any classes with me. Except Eric, who had gym with me, but that was it. In the middle of class, the phone had rung and Mr. Shaw explained that Ms. Morse needed to see me. Snickers and giggles were filling in the classroom, but I just ignored them, walking out of class with my things.
On my way to her office, a thought was occurring to my head. She’d usually have therapy sessions with me around fifth period time; why is she doing this so early? Oh well, the more I miss class time, the better, I suppose. When I got to her office door, I opened it and she sat at her desk, smiling at me like she could sense that I was on my way over. I exchanged a smile at her too, that smile quickly sinking as soon as I had saw someone else in the office, sitting on a chair that had another chair beside them, probably where I was bound to sit.
I gasped softly at this, giving Brandon the nastiest glare ever. He hadn’t met eyes with me, but I knew he would. What’s he doing in here? Just as I was about to ask her, Ms. Morse had already beaten me at words.
“Please, have a seat,” She allowed with an outgoing voice tone.
I looked at the chair that was beside Brandon, and look around the office to see if there were some other seats. She stood up and started laughing softly at me, picking up her hot cup of coffee that was steaming out masses of smoke, “Don’t be a burden, Heather,” She assumed with a melodic voice tone, “Sit.”
I breathed out a sigh in defeat, sitting my book bag down beside the leg of the chair and collapsing onto it, ignoring the fact that Brandon’s green eyes were probably scanning my face right now, trying to study me.
“Now, I know you two are probably wondering why you’re in here.” Ms. Morse initiated, clutching her hands together so that her fingers were lacing into one another.
“Actually, this is my first time in here,” Brandon chimed in, “So...I'm confused.”
I rolled my eyes and crossed my leg over the other; angry that Brandon’s voice was practically in my ears. “Right,” Ms. Morse agreed upon with an apologetic smile, like she didn’t mean for the unexpected session, “But just bear with me while you can. You’re not in trouble or anything. And neither are you, Heather.” She said. She turned her way towards me, plastering an even wider smile. I shrugged, not really caring if I was or not. “I contacted your mother on Saturday, I think.” She started looking through her contact papers, which were pretty useless.
After a few seconds, she just gave up, slumping into her chair shortly afterwards.
“The reason you both are in at the same time is because we got a little problem, a little rumor-slash-gossip problem,” She corrected herself before we could be fazed and shunned with curiousness.
We both cocked an eyebrow, motioning for her to continue.
“Um, you see,” She cleared her throat, “Heather, when I contacted your mom on Saturday to get any information about you, she told me you’ve had recent sexual physical activity with Brandon, am I not right?” She suddenly asked.
Both me and Brandon’s eyes had widened, and we straightened up a bit. “It’s okay, it's not embarrassing or anything,” Ms. Morse had suspected, even she was blushing a little bit as well just by bringing up what goes on between us two, “And I know you’re probably thinking that I don’t own the right to just snoop into what goes on between you guys, but it’s very urgent. That ‘pregnant’ rumor is really getting out of hand, don’t you think?” She picked up a random portfolio and tossed it in one of her desk drawers.
I didn’t reply to her at all, and neither did Brandon. He just slumped further down into his seat, practically hiding his face. I shifted my gaze at him, scowling at him. Is he that ashamed of what went down between him and me?
"Now, this makes me shift opinion and thought,” Ms. Morse had quickly started up again, darting her eyes at the both of us. I turned to face us. What did she mean? “There had to be some reason your mom would say that. I mean, unless the rumor of you being pregnant is true.” She assumed, sipping her coffee afterwards.
I raised an eyebrow at her. Could she just shut up? I’m tired of her dropping hints about me confessing already. I won't. “I’m not pregnant.” I growled, giving her an irate glare. She did something with her eyes that signaled for me to play along, and that’s why I loosened up a bit in my seat.
“Heather took two pregnancy tests,” Brandon had suddenly butted in, “They both said she wasn’t pregnant. I don’t see why people keep dragging this on.”
I actually agreed with him, and nodded at Ms. Morse, signaling for her to support his thought. I clearly was, although it was dead on false.
“Hmm…” Ms. Morse gave me that look again and shifted her glance to Brandon, her hair was hanging loosely just above her shoulders, making me wonder if she got it cut or something. “So you two have been sexually physical, right?” She recapped. I nodded my head while Brandon lowered his, and I could see that he was slumping further into his seat. I sighed. “So um, you two had a thing going on?” She raised an eyebrow at the both of us.
“It wasn’t a thing,” I corrected quickly; I could feel my cheeks burning and turning red, meaning I was blushing. Ms. Morse gave us confusing glances. “I mean, we clicked then and there, and I guess that’s why we-” I cut off, realizing how awkward this was, and how more awkward it was getting by the seconds. Right then, I really wished someone would walk in on us.
“It was a careless mistake that won’t happen again.” Brandon suddenly assured.
I had easily felt offended, and my hands started to tremble. I looked back up at Ms. Morse. She gazed at me with her thin eyebrows raised, probably expecting for me to agree with him. I suddenly nodded, staring down at my hands.
“We just sort of felt for each other and we said some things that made it sound like we were in love, but, we weren’t. We aren't.” I said in a low voice. I continued fiddling with my fingers. It really pained me to say that Brandon and I were never really in love with each other, it pained me to say that so much that I could feel my eyes moistening up. I felt his eyes boring slightly into the side of my face, making it more uncomfortable than before.
“I see,” Ms. Morse cleared her throat awkward and stared down into her steaming hot cup of coffee.
We sat in silence for a good minute, I know that. I really wanted run out and just cry, what Brandon said: The whole thing being a careless mistake. Was it really a mistake? I wouldn’t want to think of it as that; I thought it was meant to be, and I thought we enjoyed it. I guess he wasn’t, though.
“Are the two of you in a relationship?” She suddenly asked. I stiffened my back some more, and Brandon cleared his throat, and he sighed. “Not with each other but in a relationship with someone else.” Ms. Morse had quickly corrected herself before we adapted to funny ideas.
“I have a girlfriend,” Brandon suddenly said at ease.
I grazed my eyes across the air and down at my hands. I had no one. Just think, if so much wasn’t going on in my life, we could’ve been boyfriend and girlfriend, a normal relationship. If Brooke hadn’t fallen into our lives, if things weren’t so complicated with everything conflicting in my life, then maybe, just maybe.
“And what about you, Heather?” Ms. Morse nodded her head towards me.
Brandon turned to me, expecting an answer, too. I shook my head slowly from side to side, debating over if I should just lie and say I’m with Michael, to even see Brandon’s reaction to that would be helpful. I really wanted to put him to the test, to see if his reactions may give out answers to if he really still loved me.
“I used to be with Michael Wean,” I decided to say. I think she already knew that, though. Ms. Morse motioned for me to continue, knowing I had more to say. Brandon’s face expression was blank. “Even though he and I had some ups and downs, I feel as though we feel for one another.” I played with my hands. I mean, it was the truth. Right?
“And what makes you think you two feel for one another? I mean, you probably are feeling Michael, but how do you know he has feelings for you?” Ms. Morse asked, scooting her chair closer into her desk. I shrugged and quickly glanced at Brandon who gave me the most cryptic stare ever.
“He definitely proved he was feeling for me last night.” I suddenly said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. Ms. Morse darted her eyes off to the side right then and there.
“Wait, so you let him into your house?” Brandon asked tersely, interfering. I nodded, chewing on my lip for a few seconds.
“Okay, so um...like I mentioned before, you do know he’s sort of like a felon, right?” Ms. Morse reassured, biting her bottom lip afterwards. I nodded and lowered my head.
“I know he is. Because he uh…” My voice trailed off; but I definitely feel the need to confess. “He was the one who hit me in the head with an alcohol bottle,” I had suddenly pointed to the small scar on the top of my head, hiding in my hair, on my scalp. Ms. Morse stood up right then and there.
“So they have the wrong guy in jail?” She asked loudly. I nodded.
“Don’t worry,” I suddenly said with an easing smile, “He came to my house last night, saying he was going to turn himself in this morning, so don’t bother calling the police. He’s probably being cuffed right now.” I said coldly, darting my eyes from Brandon as I could feel a hot tear streaming down my face.
Ms. Morse stared at me for a few seconds with a sympathetic look. She finally sunk into her seat; she trusted and believes me. I wiped the tear from my face, just imagining Michael getting arrested wasn’t always the best mental movie for me.
“Do you have intense feelings for one another?” She asked slowly, cocking an eyebrow gently at me.
I shrugged, “I mean, yeah. We kissed and hugged before he left; last night was our final goodbye, basically.” I felt another tear falling down on my other cheek, tickling it as it ran down and dropped onto my thigh, my lap.
"You must be grieving with it by crying, right?” She asked. I nodded. She stared at me for a few seconds and the bell rung, signaling for us to go to second period. Ms. Morse had suddenly sighed, running her long fingers through her hair, “Since we’re out of time, do you two mind reporting back to my office tomorrow for first period?”
I nodded slowly as Brandon and I both stood up and gathered out things. Brandon nodded, too. She gave us a goodbye smile, and we both walked out of the office. Hundreds of other students had begun flooding the hallways, talking and laughing; some of them even looked at me and Brandon. Just seeing us walking together probably shocked them. I swear, it was like we were the couple of the year; when the problem is, we’re not even a couple, as much as it really hurts to say that was the truth. Brandon turned to me, and for just a second, he looked like he wanted to say something really rude. But he didn't. He just scowled at me and walked away, shaking his head.
I chewed on my lip as I watched him walk off; probably upset that Michael and I were together. But isn’t he at fault, too? I heard him saying something to Brooke about spending time with her last night, so should I be mad, too? I sighed and walked the other direction to get to science. After school, my mom picked me up, and I quickly demanded of her to explain why she told Ms. Morse that Brandon and I were once ‘together’.
“If you really wanted help from Ms. Morse, you’d tell her everything,” She had said while driving, and then giving me a long lecture on how important that is if I really wanted to improve. For the whole day, I sat in my bedroom, waiting for Lola to email me back; I really needed to talk with her; about everything. I wanted to pour out my feelings to her, but she never emailed.
I hung my head in shame as I slowly closed my laptop, settling it aside. I wanted to cry; this has been going on long enough. I just want my best friend back. It’s already bad enough she had to leave to New York, but now she refuses to speak to me? I’m at fault for her ex-boyfriend’s problem, I know that. I want her to know that I’m hurting too; because Kresten is one of my best friends, too. I guess I kind of got selfish over things, especially when he admitted his interest in me.
If Lola knew that too, maybe she would’ve went easy on me, and focus all of her anger on Kresten. But if she would have just been here and not move to New York with Shaun, we probably wouldn’t be in this mess.
When the time finally came for me and Brandon’s visit with Ms. Morse that following Tuesday, we talked more about how are past was and the connections of it, when we were into each other. I still have feelings for him, and for some reason, I’m convinced that Brandon may have feelings for me still, too. We sat in her office in silence, it wasn’t as awkward as Monday’s, when it was unexpected and took on by surprise.
“What I really want to talk about is those nightmares of yours, Heather,” Ms. Morse initiated, pinning her bangs with a small hair clip.
“What about them?” I questioned, slumping into my chair, trying to get comfortable.
“I read your list before you burned it and the three dreams were very…intriguing. Two of them had Brandon in it, am I correct?” She suddenly asked, her stare meeting my eyes.
I felt myself sit up in a panic, and Brandon looked at me with that intense stare of his. I nodded reluctantly, fiddling with my fingers. There was no point in trying to hide it, I can’t deny straight to the point evidence. I even wrote it in front of her, so I had no choice but to come clean. Ms. Morse picked up a pen and dropped it back on her desk, doing the same thing repeatedly until she started speaking again.
“Don’t you think that’s all a sign?” She suddenly asked. I smirked at this, of course. Knowing Ms. Morse and finding out that she was very superstitious on Friday, it wasn’t a surprise that she would somehow think that this leads to an event later on in my life.
“What do you think it all means?” Brandon suddenly asked, even more interested in this conversation than I was. He wore a gray shirt, dark jeans, and gray and black vans. His eyes, gleaming in the office light made it hard for me not to look away. He’s just so gorgeous, so breath taking. I turned back to Ms. Morse, wanting to know the answer to his question just as much as he does.
“Did you dream these dreams recently?” She asked. I nodded my head, not sure on why it mattered when I dreamed them. She slowly opened her mouth to say something, “Not only do I think it’s a sign that will happen later in the both of your lives, but I can’t help but to have the thought of you still sharing feelings for Brandon.” She suddenly said straight-forwardly. I lowered my head, not able to look Brandon in the eyes. I was too embarrassed.
“Why would you think that?” Brandon asked, and although I couldn’t see him, I could hear some type of tone in his voice. Hopeful?
“It all connects some way,” Ms. Morse responded to his question quickly, “If you think about it. I believe that both of you aren’t over each other. In fact, I’m beginning to wonder if you ever think of her.” She asked, cocking an eyebrow.
Brandon gave Ms. Morse a look, and suddenly started playing with his fingers. He didn’t answer her. I looked back up at her, slowly recovering. I don't understand, why is she putting us out on the spot like this?
She turned back to me without hesitating, “You said that you had a dream about him dying, that’s a sign.” My heart fluttered a bit and then it sunk. She read the look on my face and started laughing, “Now, dear, that doesn’t mean he’s going to die in the future. It could mean that something important is going to happen to him in the future.”
“I also had a dream that he was the cause of my dad’s car crash.” I quickly said.
Ms. Morse’s eyes softened at this, scooting in her chair and sitting up more properly as if she was interested in where this was going. Brandon had a look of curiosity.
I opened my mouth to speak once more, “It was like, I was reliving what happened when I was ten, except I was actually there…” I slowly elaborated, exchanging a soft glance to Brandon and back at Ms. Morse herself, who motioned for me to continue. “It was all too real. I watched my dad as he got out of the car, like he wanted to get hit. But right after, I spotted Brandon and he took off. So I ran after him and when I had the strength to push him down on the ground, that’s when I found out he was Brandon.” I continued to say, I was slowly having a mental picture in my head while I was saying this, so I could word it out better.
Ms. Morse continued to listen, and so did Brandon.
“When he finally got up, he pointed a gun at me, and asked why he should let me live. I woke up before he could actually pull the trigger.” I chewed on my lip, having a hard time saying this. I could feel myself on the verge of crying, I didn’t like picturing Brandon pointing a gun at me. I would never want to see that in my life.
Brandon’s eyes had quickly gone gentle from the moment a tear went down my face. Ms. Morse kept a straight face, she had to, though. It was permitted for her to, since she had to be professional at all costs.
“If I hadn’t jerked myself out of the dream, I think he would’ve shot me. I also believe that if I died in my dreams, I wouldn’t be here right now.” I lowered my face to have my eyes lay on my lap, wiping another tear from my face.
Ms. Morse stared at me intently, and her stare broke from me when the bell rung. She sighed, realizing that the session ended. I gathered my things, slowly turning to Brandon. He was getting his things too, but he also had the look of shock on his gorgeous face. I turned back to my book bag as soon as I could feel him shifting his gaze at me. I stood up and was the first one to walk out of that office. As I passed by everyone and anyone to get to my next class, tears were streaming down my face. And of course, everyone was staring. I ignored them and proceeded to my class.
The rest of the day was rough, and when I got home, I watched TV alone. Haley and my mom went grocery shopping, and I didn’t feel the need to tag along. How would you respond if I told you I was crying right then and there? Well, I was.
The whole time at school, I felt like crap. That’s all I’ve ever felt, I just wanted it all to go away. I couldn’t even pull off a fake smile without Aubrey asking me what was wrong; I was just remotely devastated with everything. I’m just so sick of this. Tired of everything, tired of everyone. While I was watching a lifetime movie, the doorbell had all of a suddenly rung, and I was relieved to know that I hadn’t jumped this time. I went to the door, assuming it was my mom and Haley. I didn’t want to keep them waiting since they probably had a bunch of bags in their arms, so I opened the door without further hesitation. But it wasn’t my mom or Haley.
Of course I recognize that face from anywhere. Brown and almost black hair, those fairly large dark green eyes. I gaped at who it was. Standing there was Kresten, his back against my door frame.
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