"So this is the how the most popular girl in school lives," I think silently to myself as Destiny treks across the soft white carpet of her bedroom. It's the afternoon following the morning that I woke up in Lucas' bed, and although I'd been thoroughly enjoying our renewed friendship-and his shirtless chest-I needed to leave eventually. I couldn't just stay there all day. So when Destiny texted me around three in the afternoon asking if we wanted to work on the project for class, I quickly agreed.
Luckily Lucas' mom was kind enough to drop me off so that I didn't have to walk and so that Lucas didn't have to drop the girl he slept in the same bed with off at his girlfriend's house. Although he offered and didn't seem the least bit awkward about it, I knew that deep down it'd get underneath his skin at least a little bit.
And now here I am, in a place that I'm sure half the guys and almost all of the girls at the high school would love to be. I'm in the princess of the high school's bedroom. It's really not as bad as I thought it'd be. Like the judgmental toad I am, I thought the room would be all pink and frill and stuff, but it's actually not. The only pink thing in the room is the floor length mirror she has beside her dresser. Besides that one little blip, her room is decorated in a light blue and a sea foam green. It's actually kind of adorable.
Destiny ends her trek by sitting down at her computer desk, the computer being a largely-screened Mac, and then tells me, "You can sit wherever. I don't have cooties, I promise."
I give a soft laugh, happy that she's not making this uncomfortable, and then take a seat at the foot of her large and fluffy bed. Looking around the room, I realize that this girl really isn't that much different than I am. Sure she has much nicer things than I do, and it looks like much more thought was put into the decoration of the room, but the basis is the same. Tons of music, a TV, clothes strewn everywhere, pictures of a certain guy on just about every other surface.
The room looks just like mine did two years ago. Now, though, all of my pictures are just ashes sitting at the bottom of our old fireplace. I don't have any pictures of him anymore, not even one. I kept them for a couple of months, the months that I was hoping he'd come back and say he wanted to be friends again. But when that innocent naivety wore away, I knew that he wasn't coming back.
So I torched them.
"Naomi?" a sugary voice breaks through my thoughts, effectively erasing any mental images that I have of fire and past memories.
"Yeah?" I ask her, peering at her after moving my attention away from the bottom of her desk chair.
She gives me a teasing laugh, "You just totally zoned out right there. You okay?"
"Yeah!" I nod, probably just a bit too convincingly. "I'm fine, I just...I zone out a lot. Sorry."
"Oh I know what you mean," she says, waving one of her hands diagonally as if forgetting about it. She continues, "I do it all the time. Since I don't usually have time to sleep at night, I've learned how to do it with my eyes open."
I laugh, asking her, "Is it really that bad?"
"You have no idea," she says in a jokingly serious, almost threatening tone of voice. She continues, "When I'm not cheerleading, I'm doing school work, when I'm not doing that I'm studying so that my dad thinks I'm not slacking, and when I'm not doing that I'm watching out for my brother, hanging out with my friends, or talking to Lucas on the phone. Well...I used to anyways."
Even though I know that asking about this will probably come back to bite me in the ass, I ask her, "Is he still being...cold?"
Her expression gone from being that of a perky, happy-go-lucky blonde girl with one of the best lives ever, she nods and says, "Yeah. I haven't talked to him over the phone in a week."
"Seriously?" I ask her confusedly, wondering what in the hell is going on in Lucas' mind. This is the girl that he ditched his best friend for; why is he avoiding her now? They've been together for so long now. Why is he throwing it away now?
But even though I do feel awfully for her-I know good and well how hurtful Lucas' avoiding is-hearing this does kind of perk me up a bit. She's one of the sweetest girls I've ever met and I hate that she's hurting, but does this mean that Lucas is going to be single soon? Although I know he'd never date me because he doesn't see me that way, it does hurt a lot seeing the two of them together. The jealousy I feel around the two of them is beyond ridiculous.
She nods sadly, and I look on in horror as I see her big brown eyes start to fill with glistening unshed tears. Not wanting her to cry because I just can't see such a perky and happy girl that sad, I shake my head and say hastily, "Let's not think about it, okay? We can, we can..."
She cuts me off, her voice sounding scratchy, just like mine does when I'm about to cry. She says, "We used to never shut up, Naomi-never! And now he just never wants to talk to me. I don't know what I did wrong, I really don't. I mean, I gave him everything! Everything! He used to say he loved me every single day, multiple times, and I haven't heard it from him in weeks."
By this time big, fat crocodile tears are rolling down her rosy cheeks, making my heart swell up in sympathy for her. Before I can even stop myself, I clamber off of her bed and make my way to her, wrapping my arms around her in the most comforting way possible. I'm not very good at doing this with people, letting them talk their problems to me, but I know that I can't just sit here and watch her cry.
I tell her, "You're too good for him, Destiny. Okay? And even though you are and you do deserve better, I can tell you that he does love you. He gave up a lot to be with you, and..."
She sniffles pathetically before cutting me off, "I really am sorry about that, you know. I never meant to steal your best friend."
"What?" I ask, my arms falling from around her shoulders. She knew? She knew that we were best friends? Well, I guess everyone did know seeing as how we were never separated, but I honestly believed that she just didn't know that she split the two of us up.
She angles her head so that she can look me in the face and says, "I know about him leaving you because of me and I'm so sorry. It's partly my fault."
"Partly?" I inquire, moving just a bit further away from her.
Looking completely ashamed of herself, she mutely nods and continues, "I was just so jealous of the relationship you two had...it made me feel like he was going to leave me for you. So I...I kind of asked him not to hang around you anymore."
Most of that sympathy I had for her previously melts away, settling instead into a smoldering pile of anger at the golden couple. Although I can somewhat understand why she'd say that-I'd have a little problem with my boyfriend spending a bunch of time with another girl-I still think she should have found an insanely different way to approach that. One that didn't remove Lucas completely from my life.
And I also find myself angry at Lucas; angry for him listening to her and leaving me just because she told him to. He let a girl, no matter how completely beautiful this girl is, kick me out of his life. A girl that he'd only known for just a few weeks was able to get him to ditch me, a girl he'd known since third grade.
Maybe I do like that he now somewhat has a reason for ditching me, but I do not like the reason one little bit. When I get back to that boy's house so that I can get my things and get the hell out of there, he's getting yet another piece of my mind. I cannot believe he let this little blonde girl control who he was friends with. This is taking whipped to a whole other level.
Seeing how pensive I'm being with this whole situation, Destiny starts getting extremely nervous. Her brown eyes, seconds ago filled with huge tears, are now wide at the fact that she's ruined someone's relationship. That she ruined someone's happiness for two years. She grabs at my hand and says, "Naomi, I'm so so sorry. I know how much he meant to you back then, but you have to believe me when I say..."
I cut her off by ripping my hand away from hers. I say, "You helped put me through hell for two years, Destiny," the coldness of my tone shocking even me. Maybe I'm much angrier than I previously thought.
Looking taken aback, she goes silent for a moment as she tries to grasp the fact that someone is, in fact, angry with her. Probably not used to being treated as anything lesser than a princess, I know that my blaming her and treating her badly is not exactly the norm for her. But I don't care. I don't care that she might not like me anymore. All I care about is the fact that she stole my far-too-willing-to-leave-me best friend.
She says, "But listen, if you had a boyfriend that spent all of their time with another girl...you'd get upset too, right?" She's seriously trying to get me to understand her reasoning? Although I do somewhat understand, she really did not have to go about it like she did. How she handled her insecurities were beyond wrong.
I shake my head at her disbelievingly and say, "Lucas had no feelings for me like that, Destiny."
"But did you...for him?" she asks worriedly, peering up at me through her perfectly made-up eyes. Even after crying like a complete loser she still looks ten times better than me. Yet another reason to hate the girl.
And even though I really do want to lie to her to save myself some dignity, I'm not going to. I nod and say, "I did. And I told him. And you know what he said to me?"
"What?" she asks, her expression starting to turn much colder since I just confessed that I had feelings for her boyfriend. If only she knew that I still do...
I smile ruefully, trying to stop the tears that have always come hand-in-hand with this story. Anytime I think about it, it makes these really embarrassing tears come. I say, "He said 'Naomi...I'm in love with Destiny. I'm sorry, but I just really don't like you like that'."
Here they come, slowly starting to slide down my cheeks and then drop onto her white carpet. I say, "I was completely heartbroken, but I naively though he'd be there...you know, just to help me get over it? I thought our friendship was strong enough. But it wasn't. It wasn't strong enough, and part of that is your fault. So thanks, Destiny. You really are the sweetheart that everyone loves."
With that I numbly walk over to her bed, grab my things from where I'd deposited them, and then leave the house.
oOoOo
"Where the fuck have you been?" Lucas demands the second that I walk through the front door of their house. His blonde hair is all disheveled, looking as if he hasn't been able to stop running his fingers through it, and his face is etched with a concern that I rarely ever see coming from him.
A little ping of guilt stabs me in the heart knowing that I've had him worried, but it's not enough to stand here and explain to him. I've been at the park for about three hours now, just sitting by myself on one of the swings and thinking about things; thinking about how betrayed I feel because Lucas ditched me just because his new girlfriend told him to, thinking over that day over two years ago when I told him the truth and he just blew me off, thinking about how happy I was this morning when we were joking around in the bed.
My head is on thought overload and now all I really want to do is go upstairs, pack up my things, and then head back home so that I can just crash in my own bed. I don't want to know that Lucas is right down the hall anymore, and even though an effect of this will be that I'll have to face my dad again, I just don't care anymore. I'd rather be shouted at by my dad then have to deal with the blonde boy who has managed to continuously hurt me.
So with that thought in mind, I quietly tell Lucas, "At the park," and then brush by him so that I can head up the stairs and towards the guest room.
Lucas, unfortunately, doesn't really want that to happen so he grabs at my wrist and pulls me back to him. When I see how blazingly determined his eyes are, I feel a part of me go cold. Lucas and I are both insanely stubborn, always have been, but since he's physically stronger he usually always wins. I know this time isn't going to be much different. He's going to keep me here until he figures things out.
He bends down just a bit so that he can look at my face, but even though he succeeds at doing this I don't meet my eyes with him. I'm not giving him that kind of satisfaction yet. He says, "Naomi...I've been sitting here for three hours worrying. Destiny called crying her eyes out, said for me to talk to you when you got back from walking here. What the hell were you thinking walking all the way here? It's about five miles! Something could have happened to you..."
I cut him off sarcastically, "Well I'm here now, I'm fine."
"Yeah I see that," he snaps back with a tone that matches mine almost perfectly. "But you could have called; I would have come pick you up."
Even though I know it's going to unleash a whole load of crap coming from his end, I cannot help but take a big jab at him when I say, "Well I didn't think Destiny would let you."
"So that's what this is about?" he asks me after a few moments of his hesitation, the softening of his facial features somewhat matching his new change of voice.
"Duh," I say, yanking my wrist out of his grasp when I realize that he still has it in a pretty firm grip. He easily lets me go, but he knows that I'm not going to try and leave right yet. He knows my fight or flight face and this is not it quite yet. "What'd you think it was about?"
He goes silent for yet another moment, this one shorter than the first but still just as thought provoking. When he finally speaks he says, "I had no idea...I guess I didn't even think it could be about me."
I coil away from him in surprise and anger, my voice practically vicious when I say, "You really are an ass, you know that? Your girlfriend and the girl that you...you left for her are in the same room and one runs away crying. What the hell did you think?"
"Come on Nay...just tell me what she said and I'll..."
"She told me the fucking truth!" I yell out at him, it not even registering in my mind that someone in his family can be right around the corner in another room, listening in. "She didn't like that we spent so much time together so she told you to stop. And you, like the obedient little lassie you are just listened! You let the girl you'd been talking to, for what, like two weeks, tell you ditch your best friend for years!"
His eyes narrow in on my face and I know what he's thinking. I've got the flight or fight face on and even though he's been a complete dumb ass about this whole situation, he's smart enough to know which I'm going to choose. He reaches out with one of his arms to grab me, but I'm quicker than he is for once. I jump back, causing his hand to grasp around air, and then turn around and dart towards the stairs.
I'm almost to the landing on the second floor when I hear footsteps behind me, letting me know that Lucas isn't just going to let me leave without a fight. Cursing underneath my breath at how stubborn he can be about stuff like this, I keep running and eventually make it to the guest room. I wheel around so that I can shut the door and lock it before he makes it in, but it's right as I'm closing it that his Converse-clad foot pokes in between the door and its frame, not letting me shut it all away.
Knowing that it's going to be a fight that I'm only going to lose, I let the door go in defeat and just turn away from the door, so that Lucas can see my back and not the fresh batch of tears that are slowly starting to pool in my eyes.
Even though I know he's standing right behind me, I bend down and start to grab my dirty clothes off of the floor, stuffing them into the duffel bag that I picked up from where I left it on the window seat. I'm concentrating solely on not letting any tears fall, knowing that if I do Lucas will break down and come and hug me, something that I can't let happen. His touching me would not help this situation.
"Naomi..." he sighs from the other side of the room, and even though I haven't bothered to look over at him I know that he's probably leaning against the wall next to the door, his arms crossed over his chest and his left foot propped behind him on the wall. That's how he always stands. "I can't just let you go back to your house."
"Yes you can," I say, my nose giving an involuntary sniffle after I do so. Trying my hardest not to be embarrassed, I continue, "I'm sure once Destiny tells you that she doesn't want me here, I'm sure you'll..."
Before I can even finish that statement, I feel his hand roughly grab at my wrist and then swirl me around so that I'm looking at him. His eyes are wild just like they were downstairs, but I'm somewhat used to them now so they don't shock me as badly. Instead it's nearness that knocks the breath out of me, the way that his hips feel pressed against mine. Sure they're not pressed against mine in that intensely romantic way, but it's still enough to make butterflies erupt in my stomach.
Trust me to get turned on while I'm angry, crying, and he's staring at me in a way that I can't even describe.
He does that silent stoic thing, where he just stands there staring at me while I listen to him breathing. I don't know why I no longer have the urge to pick up the nearest heavy object and lug it at his head and it's really starting to unnerve me. I should want to throttle the boy. But no, of course I'm not feeling that way. No, instead of being angry like I should be, I just want to wrap my arms around him and kiss him the way that Drew was trying to kiss me on my front porch.
And that's really messed up.
Suddenly the pressure from his hand lessens, his fingers instead intertwining with my own in a way that stuns just about every nerve in my body. Bewilderment swirling around in my head, I meet his eyes with my own and am shocked to see an emotion that I've never seen there before. He's looking at me like Drew looked at me. He's looking at me like he wants to kiss me.
And that's proven right when I notice his gaze drop down to my lips.
Not really being able to move, I'm completely still and silent, wondering what on earth has brought him to be this way. One minute I'm crying and ignoring him, the next we're yelling at each other, and now...now what? Does he want to kiss me? Everyone and their mother knows that I want to kiss him, but they also know that it'd mess so many things up if it happened.
Just as suddenly as he starting holding my hand like a boyfriend would, he extracts that same hand and shoves it into the pocket of his sweatpants. He takes a step away from me, removing any of the body warmth I'd just felt. His eyes go back from that glazed over look into their normal appearance. Really? Nothing after all of that?
He clears his throat, the sound shocking me because of the electrical silence that had just carpeted the room. He says, "I really am sorry, Naomi. You have to believe me."
His apology, the deep and sincere tone of his voice makes me ache to run over to him and just throw my arms around his torso and bury my face in his chest. I just want to feel him, to feel that heat that I'd felt mere moments ago. But I know that I can't. He's not mine to touch, not mine to feel. He's just Lucas, the guy who doesn't see me that way. The guy who will never love me that way. The guy who will ditch me after years of a blissful friendship just because his girlfriend told him to.
That look he'd given me, the way he'd held my hand...that was all just some serious blip in his judgment. He can't really want to be with me that way. I'm not going to lie to myself and get my hopes up just so that they can come crashing down around me. I won't allow myself to feel that kind of hurt again.
"Nay?" he asks in that soft tone of his, and when I look up at him I see that he's taken a step forward. Although it's not as close as it was a few moments ago, it's close enough so that I can smell the body wash he used this morning. It's delicious. "Please? I can't...I hate that you hate me. I hate that I made you cry, that I ever made you cry. I hate that I listened to Destiny and ditched the person who'd always been first in my world. I hate myself because of that. I was stupid. I was ruled by hormones. I shouldn't have left you, I know that. Being around you again has made me remember how good things used to be and I feel like a complete ass for ever letting that go. I want to spend time with you again, to make you laugh, and to piss you off...but just the fun kind. I miss you, Naomi. Please? Can you just please forgive me and stop looking at me like you either want to shoot me or cry? I hate it."
His little speech has caused those tears that had been pooling in my eyes to finally spill over. What he said has been what I've been itching to hear for two years now...even better, in fact. So that's why I can't help myself but to run over and fling myself into his arms, not caring that I should probably make him grovel some more. I don't care that this is probably just going to hurt me even more considering that I'm still in love with him. I don't care that he still has the girlfriend who got him to get rid of me.
I just don't care anymore.
I don't want to care.
It hurts too much.