A Date For The Books

Part Three

"Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up." - James Baldwin

"You're a jerk, you know that."

"I'm aware, Vi."

"And don't call me Vi."

I stood in the doorway of the guest bedroom, watching him unpack.

"Why are we acting like this? Vi, it's been years since I've last seen you, why can't we let it all go? I'm sorry for what happened but it's in the past. Can't we move forward and be friends?" I couldn't believe that he wanted to be casual about this.

"Well for one, it's kind of hard to fan away how you act like I'm the issue. Two, you never gave me an explanation for why you left me hanging. And three, you always beat around the bush and never handle the problem."

He paused midway through hanging a shirt in the closet when he looked at me. "You do realize that was something I had no control over. I had to go Evie. I apologize for how I may have acted before I left. I was young alright. Look I'm willing to make amends with you."

"Just so you don't leave with a guilty conscience, how nice."

"Evie I'm serious. You can throw a little tantrum all you want, but it looks like either way, I'm going to be the bigger person here."

I just blinked at him. He doesn't care. Of course, he doesn't care. I'm hanging on to the pain he never apologized for. And he thinks there's nothing to be sorry for. He's the same old West, just in designer clothes.

He doesn't want to be the bigger person, he just wants to sweep it under the rug like usual and call it a day. He doesn't want to tell me why he did what he did. Or even formally apologize.

I slowly picked my feet up and shuffled away from the door and to my room across the hall. I knew he had been staring, I mean he had to, it felt like two hot molting rays were stabbing my back. His door didn't shut until I reached my door.

Fighting the urge to turn around was harder than I thought. I hurried into the safety of my blankets before someone came out with a hidden camera and told me I had just been pranked. But no one came and my room remained the same. I wish he went back to whatever sididdy life he came from.

Thank god it's Friday. It was the fifth period, and I was ready to hit the library for study hall and not learn about chemistry. If it has nothing to do with a book or English in general, I'm done for.

Every time I attempted to jot down notes, Rebecca and Nikki, friends I've known for too long if I say so myself, went on and on about some serum they tried from Sephora the other day.

"It seems like it works you know, like can you tell? Because if I find out I just wasted my money, I'm suing."

I turned to look at Rebecca's round face. She wasn't wrong, she was quite literally glowing. But isn't she always? Rebecca is the exact replica of Rapunzel, long hair and all, just a bit more dramatic. Nikki on the contrary looks like she would murder you, but in the most retro 1977 Paris chic type of way.

By the end of class, I only had five notes compared to the kid in front of me who had at least two pages and a half. Shoot. Failing is not an option for me. There's more than just a good grade on the line. Rebecca must have noticed how tense I was before she tapped my arm.

"I know someone who has the notes, so you'll be fine."

"Thanks, Beck."

"Yeah, 'cause you look like you crapped your pants." She laughed.