Chapter 2
Author: Arylnn East
last update2024-10-15 22:07:38

The library steps were always empty this time of day. Everyone was either gone home or at practice, leaving this corner of campus quiet enough to hear the rustle of leaves scraping against concrete. Emily sat there alone, knees pulled up to her chest, her shadow stretching long across the stairs as the sun dipped behind her.

I'd been standing at the bottom of those steps for a good minute, just watching her. The text she'd sent after school had been unexpected: "Can we talk? Library steps after class."

Part of me had wanted to ignore it. After what happened yesterday? I wasn't exactly in the mood for conversation. My sketchbook was still laid out page by page across my bedroom floor, trying to dry out. Some of the drawings might be salvageable, but most were just warped paper with bleeding ink - a month's worth of work destroyed in about thirty seconds.

"I didn't think... you would actually show up."

Her voice was soft, uncertain. Different from her usual confident tone in the hallways.

"Why wouldn't I?" I dropped my bag beside her and sat down, keeping some distance between us. "You texted me."

She let out this tiny laugh - not her real laugh, but that nervous one she does when she's uncomfortable. "Yeah, but I didn't think you'd want to talk after... you know, yesterday."

Yesterday. The fountain incident. Jared being Jared, and Emily just... standing there.

"I mean... it's not like you did anything," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "You just stood there."

Her smile dropped. She stared down at her shoes like they were suddenly the most interesting things in the world, tsk.

"I know," she whispered. "I—I should've said something."

"You think?"

The words came out sharper than I meant them to. Eiish, that wasn't.. I mean, I wanted to-

A pebble caught my eye, and I kicked it, watching it bounce down the steps. Anything to avoid looking at her face right then.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

That made me turn. Emily Reeves didn't apologize. Not to anyone, and definitely not for stuff involving Jared's "pranks." It wasn't her style.

"For what?"

"For not doing anything." She picked at a loose thread on her jeans. "For letting him... for letting Jared do that to you. I should've stopped him."

"It's not like you could've done much. Jared is... well, Jared."

"Still," she insisted, biting her lip. "I could've tried."

I wanted to agree. To tell her yeah, she could've at least said something instead of just watching while Jared dumped my sketchbook in the fountain. But looking at her now, shoulders hunched and voice all quiet, I just didn't have it in me.

"It's fine."

"It's not." She turned to face me fully then, her eyes wide and searching. Like she was waiting for something. Forgiveness, maybe. Or understanding. I couldn't give her either.

"You're not the one who threw my stuff in the fountain," I muttered, more to myself than to her.

We sat there, neither of us saying anything. The silence felt heavy. Like a small bag of flour, pressing down on my shoulders.

Woo-woo-woo-WEEEEE-woo... somewhere in the distance, a car alarm was having a meltdown. But even that seemed far away, like it was happening in some other world.

The sun was sinking behind the school, turning everything gold and purple... 'Gurple.' I remember when we were little, maybe in sixth grade, Emily used to say the sunset looked like one of those peaches you forgot at the bottom of your backpack - all bruised and battered, but still somehow beautiful. We'd sit on her front porch after school, eating those gross fruit roll-ups her mom always bought, making up stories about why the sky changed colors.

Now we just sat there like strangers, both pretending to be super interested in our shoes. Funny how things change. How people change. The same sunset, the same bench, the same two kids - except we weren't the same at all anymore.

My backpack still felt heavy with that wet sketchbook inside. I could probably feel it dripping if I focused hard enough. Yesterday's horror film 'brought to you (me) by Jared Cinemas.' But I didn't want to think about that. Didn't want to think about anything really.

A breeze picked up, making the leaves whisper overhead. It carried the smell of someone's dinner - maybe pizza or pasta. Normal people doing normal things while my whole world felt like it was falling apart in slow motion.

"Can we..." she started, then stopped. Started again. "Can we just forget about it? Start over?"

I looked at her sideways. "What do you mean?"

"I miss you." The words tumbled out like she'd been holding them back. "I miss... us. Before all of this. Before Jared and his friends got involved." She hugged her knees tighter, her voice cracking just abit. Well, slightly. "I just want things to go back to how they were."

Man. Looking at her then, part of me wanted to believe it. To think maybe she really did miss our stupid lunch conversations and inside jokes. The days before she started caring about what people thought of her - of us.

But then I remembered my sketchbook. The way she'd just stood there, watching.

"Things don't just go back," I said flatly. "Not after stuff like that."

Her eyes got wide, and for a second I thought I saw tears, but she blinked them away quick. Tucked her hair behind her ear like she always does when she's nervous.

"I know," she whispered. "But we can try, right?"

I didn't answer. Just leaned back against the steps and watched the sky change colors, wishing I was anywhere else but here. Sometimes silence says more than words ever could.

***

The next day hit different. You know how sometimes you can feel something bad coming? Like that heaviness in the air before a storm? Yeah. It was like that.

Zip-zip-UGHH. I was fighting with my locker, trying to cram my stupid Chemistry textbook into my already exploding backpack. Zip-SNAP-zip. The zipper was being a total jerk, catching on everything, and I was about two seconds away from just letting the whole thing hang open like a dead fish when tap-tap.. someone's finger on my shoulder.

For a split second, I thought it might be Emily. She'd been hovering around since our talk yesterday, sending these little half-smiles my way in class. But when I turned around, my stomach dropped.

Jared.

"Hey, Sergio," he said, voice dripping with that fake friendly tone he uses when he's about to start something. "Got a minute?"

I froze, hand still gripping my bag's zipper. "What-Do-YOU-WANT Jared? Jesus."

He leaned against the lockers like he owned them, crossing his arms. His usual crew flanked him - Marco and Derek, wearing those stupid smirks they probably practiced in the mirror.

"I heard you've been busy."

"Busy?"

"Yeah." His grin widened, showing too many teeth. "Busy spreading rumors about me and Emily."

The hallway tilted sideways for a second. "What?"

He let out this low chuckle, shaking his head like we were sharing some private joke. "Don't play dumb, Sergio. Word gets around fast. People are saying you've been telling everyone that Emily and I are... how'd you put it? Hooking up?"

My brain short-circuited. "I never said that. I didn't say anything."

"Sure you didn't." He stepped closer, all traces of fake friendliness gone. "Funny thing is, Emily told me you've been running your mouth about it. She seemed pretty upset about it, too."

The floor wasn't just tilting anymore - it was straight-up spinning. "Emily said WHAT?"

"Yeah. She told me everything."

"No." My heart was going so fast I could hear it in my ears. "No, she wouldn't-"

"She did," Jared cut in, his smile turning cruel. "And now everyone knows what a lying little creep you are."

That's when I spotted her.

She was just standing there, at the end of the hall.

With her arms wrapped tight around herself, like she was trying to hold herself together.

Or MAYBE... She'd caught a chill that no one else could feel.

And she was just... watching.

Our eyes met for a second, and man, I saw it all right there. The guilt. She knew exactly what she had done.

"Emily!" My voice cracked embarrassingly (because of course it did, perfect timing as usual), but I honestly couldn't care less. I shoved past Jared, barely registering his "Watch it, loser," just another greatest hit from his endless collection of dumb insults. I had to get to her. Had to make her tell the truth.

"Emily, tell them!" I was practically running now. "Tell them I didn't say anything!"

She just stood there, frozen. Her eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

"Emily!" I reached her, grabbed her arm maybe a bit too hard. "Please, tell them the truth. You know I didn't say anything about you and Jared. You know that."

She swallowed hard, looking between me and Jared like she was watching a tennis match. "Orion, I-"

"Tell them!"

"I..." Her lip trembled. "I'm sorry."

Two words. Just two stupid words, and my whole world crumbled.

"What?"

She stepped back, pulling away from me. "I'm sorry, Orion. I didn't mean for this to happen. I just... I didn't know what else to do."

I stared at her.

This girl I thought I knew. This person who'd sat with me on those library steps yesterday, talking about starting over. "You lied."

She couldn't even look at me now. "I had to. Jared—he's been—"

"I don't care what Jared's been doing!" The words exploded out of me. "You threw me under the bus! Are you turning me into a liar as well?!"

"I didn't have a choice!" Her voice cracked, tears spilling over. "If I didn't... if I didn't say something, they would've—"

"You could've told the truth goddammit!" My hands were shaking now. Breathe. "You could've just told the truth, Emily!"

More tears fell. She kept backing away, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I wanted to scream. To shake her. To make her understand what she'd done. But all the words got stuck in my throat, piling up until I felt like I was choking on them - a dam of unsaid things burning behind my teeth while my tongue turned to stone and my chest tightened with each swallowed syllable.

What is the meaning of this? Like, what this is?

Jared's laugh echoed down the hallway as he strolled over, looking like Christmas had come early. "Looks like your little girlfriend isn't on your side after all, Sergio." He clapped me on the back, hard enough to sting. "Tough break."

I jerked away from him, my hands curled into fists.

"Don't worry," he made sure he was loud enough for everyone to hear. "By the end of the day? EVERYONE'S gonna know about this. You're the new school joke, Sergio. Get used to it."

He walked away, his crew trailing after him like trained dogs, their laughter bouncing off the lockers.

Emily was still standing there, crying quietly, arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold something in. Or maybe keep something out. I opened my mouth, but what was there to say? Sorry your 'boyfriend' made you lie about me? Sorry I trusted you? Sorry I thought yesterday meant something?

In the end, I just walked away. Didn't look back. Didn't need to.

There are things you just can't fix with sorry.

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