I rolled my eyes at her. “It hurts. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“No. But then I warned you that it would.”
I frowned at her but replied nothing.
“If you change your mind about talking, come and see me.”
I won’t. I’m done. With all of it.
“You wanted me to say something,” I mumbled to myself. I grabbed the pen and paper inside my night table, “This is me saying something.”
Broken Heart
Oliver
March 7, 2010
Dear Abbygail,
I’m sorry about you and Zoey, but I wouldn’t worry too much about it. You know how you two are, and I’m sure things will get better in no time. I would even bet a root beer slushy on it.
But the thing is, Abby, Zoey is right. There is a reason why I’m not writing back. Do you remember when I told you I didn’t care what you had to say to prevent me from leaving? I didn’t care because it was my decision to leave.
I told you I wanted you to let me go, and I left because I wanted out. I wanted out of our school, out of my home, out of our town.
Abbygail, I wanted out of us.
I know what you’re trying to do by writing to me all the time, and I want you to stop. Can’t you see that this isn’t working for you? How many letters have you written that I haven’t replied to?
I don’t want you to be a part of my life anymore. I want you to move on with your life, but I especially need you to let me move on with mine.
Besides, my girlfriend Laney doesn’t like you writing to me all the time. Every time you send something, your letter becomes a source of conflict. She gets jealous even though I keep telling her that you’re just an old friend.
She’s pretty cool though, and fucking hot too. Look her up on Facebook. Her name is Laney Benton. You’ll see she’s awesome. I’m sure you’d love her just as much as I do, or as much as you think I’d like the next door neighbor who you’re supposed to be dating.
I moved on Abs, I have a great life in BC. I have great friends, I’m doing well in school, my house is awesome, I’m playing football...my life is better than it was. I’m completely over my life in Carrington; I don’t miss anything from home.
So, how about we keep what we had a great memory and move on, okay?
I need you to let go now. It’s just better this way, for the both of us.
Abbygail, just...
Don’t ever let the orchids fade away.
Oliver
Broken Promises
Oliver
I never sent Abby my letter. I sent hers back, as I normally did, but mine stayed on my desk for almost a week. It taunted me day and night as I debated on mailing it or not, and on the fourth day I realized that I couldn’t do it.
When I walked into my house after school, it was spotless. My mother either went through a cleaning fit or a high emotional breakdown, and my guess was the latter because she had been acting weirdly ever since my outburst over the weekend.
“Mom?” I called out to her as I passed by the kitchen to grab a snack.
“I’m in your room, sweetheart.”
I grimaced. Having her include my room in her cleaning ritual meant that she was really having a bad day. I opened the door, and sure enough, it was clean–too clean. She was standing by the window, still in her pyjamas, looking out at the mountain-side. She looked broken and exhausted.
“Mom, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she sniffed.
She was about to cry, so I walked over to her and drew her into a warm hug. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Probably remembering the line she had said to me only a few days before, she raised her head off my shoulder. “Cute,” she smiled. “But it’s nothing. I just really miss your father today.”
I didn’t reply. I completely understood how she felt. When it came to my father, some days were just harder than others. After a few minutes of embracing, she sighed, and pulled away.
“Do you know how much I love you?”
“I have a feeling, but I’m not that sure,” I teased. “How about you show me by taking me out for dinner tonight?”
She laughed. “I truly hope you won’t be using that line on a girl one day.”
“If I do, I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“Please do. So, what kind of food were you thinking?”
“Oh I don’t know, I was thinking sushi might be good. What do you think?”
“I think you’re trying to please your mother rather than please yourself.”
She was right. I didn’t really like sushi. In fact, any Asian meal wasn’t really my favorite type of food.
“What can I say? I’m just awesome like that.”
She smiled at me adoringly. “Give me twenty minutes, and I’ll be ready.”
The need to destroy Abby’s letter never felt as strong as it did at that exact moment. As soon as my mother stepped out, I went straight to my desk. Unfortunately the letter wasn’t there. It wasn’t on my night table, on the floor, or under my bed. I searched in every drawer, even in the garbage: it wasn’t there. It wasn’t anywhere.
“Mom?” I panicked. “When you cleaned up my room did you see the envelope on my desk addressed to Abby?”
“Yes.”
I exhaled in relief.
“Where did you put it?”
“I mailed it. The postman was delivering our mail when I was taking the trash out this morning. I handed it to him instead of having to walk down the hill to the mail box.”
“So, it’s gone?”
“Yep.”
I paled.
“I was so happy to see you had written to her. I figured that since it was just lying around I’d mail it for you. I hope it was okay.”
I didn’t answer. I just backed away from my door and sat on my bed.
I think I’m going to throw up...
Abbygail
Chase and I walked home from the bus drop off side-by-side without addressing each other. I couldn’t even say if we were a couple or not anymore, but my guess was that we weren’t because we hadn’t really talked since our fallout at school. I wished there was something I could say, but there wasn’t. He was right. Zoey was right. Even though I hadn’t heard anything from Oliver in nearly six months, even though he was hurting me beyond repair, I was still very much in love with my best friend.
I spotted my mother rolling into our driveway when we rounded the corner. The weather station had announced some freezing rain, which was probably why she made it home earlier than usual. The wind had picked up about an hour before school ended, blowing in the heavy low clouds that were threatening to burst over our heads at any moment. I was glad to see her step out of the car when I made it to my house, greeting her made leaving Chase at the curb without saying goodbye, less awkward.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hey, Sweetheart. Hi, Chase.”
I turned to see him answering her with a tight smile.
“I see your issues with him haven’t been resolved yet,” she whispered for only me to hear.
I shook my head at her disappointment.
“I really wish the both of you could talk this out.”
My mother liked Chase, which was weird since she normally didn’t like me hanging me out with older guys. Although, I think she preferred the shift in my mood when he was around rather than the relationship itself. She reached inside the mailbox and pulled out a pile of envelopes while I observed Chase walk inside his house. As soon as his door shut, I turned my focus back to her.
“How was your day?”
“I was pretty busy this morning, but things died down in the afternoon. All of my customers cancelled their appointments because of the freezing rain forecast. So, what are your plans for tonight?” My mother asked while her busy hands rummaged through the pile of letters.
We walked inside our house together, and I dropped my bag on the floor with a loud thud. The quantity of homework I had was
ridiculous. “I might invite Stephan over to watch a movie, if it’s okay with you.”
My mother dangled an envelope in my face.
“What?” I asked annoyed.
“It’s for you.”
“Who’s it from?” I took off my laced combat boots and hung my coat in the closet frowning. The only mail I normally received was my monthly subscription to Seventeen Magazine.
“It doesn’t say. There is no return address.”
I took the envelope from her hands and smiled.
“You seem pleased.”
I nodded. “It’s from Oliver.”
“Really?”
I climbed the three steps to the main floor. There was something in the way she answered that itched me the wrong way. I turned to her thoughtful features “Why do you seem so surprised?”
“I’m not,” she mumbled. “I was just thinking about a thing I forgot at work.”
I furrowed my brows, she was lying, but the lights of our house flashed and it distracted us both. We both looked outside catching a glimpse of the weather. Through the kitchen window I saw that the wind had picked up a vigorous speed, swinging the branches of the willow tree in every direction.
“I’m going to go read this in my room, okay?”
“Sure, go ahead. Let me know if Stephan will be coming for dinner or not.”
***
My name was being called from behind. I frowned, looked back at my mother, and saw Stephan standing in my doorway with worry.
“Abby?” My mother called again.
Both were observing me as I sat on the floor in the middle of piles of pictures and destroyed property: mine and Oliver’s property. I had absolutely no idea how everything had happened, but my body was shaking uncontrollably. My brows furrowed as I tried to figure out what was going on. Nothing made sense until I looked down and saw his letter resting on my lap. My best friend had just ripped me apart.
A loud cry escaped me. Raw anger. Agonizing, throbbing pain.
Oliver had done exactly what he promised me he’d never do. I didn’t want to, but my heart betrayed me, a hot tear rolled down my cheek as I stood.
“Mom. I am going for a run.”
I left my house without looking back. I ran until I couldn’t catch my breath anymore and then pushed harder just because I could. My heart constricted with every step.
The cold air blew drops of freezing rain against my face. They felt like a thousand needles painfully piercing my skin at the same time.
I welcomed the pain.
As the wind blew harshly, the rasping air made its way painfully into my lungs. I didn’t notice the water and ice accumulation. The splash of my running shoes hitting the frozen wet pavement didn’t bother me until I lost my footing, and fell to the ground. I tried to get up, but the sharp throb around my left ankle prevented me from standing.
Everything... everything just–
I prayed for the oncoming car to swerve and hit me, but it didn’t. It stopped. The driver didn’t continue on his merry way, he opened the door, picked me up and brought me home.
As for the heartbreak that Oliver’s betrayal inflicted on me, it didn’t die… it didn’t disappear.
But then deep down, I knew it never would.
Oliver
I held the letter in my hands. I had already read it once, but as if my heart couldn’t believe she had given up on us, I read it again. And then, because I knew that I was holding in my hand the remainder of her tears for our friendship, I mixed my own with hers, one last time.
March 15, 2010
Dear Oliver,
I have this vague memory of us sitting on your front porch. I think it was after my eight birthday party, or maybe it was before... I don’t know. But who cares because it’s beyond the point anyway. The point is that I turned eight years old that day and life had given me the best gift I could possibly wish for.
It gave me a best friend.
It gave me you.
You held me while I cried because you knew that even though I rarely talked about him, the fact that Simon left me, hurt me every day. That birthday was the last time we spoke about him, because even though I had no dad, you shared yours with me.
Because that’s just who you were.
Do you remember that day Oliver? I do... for so many reasons, too. You gave me my first orchid that day. It was white and blue. It was perfect. It was the first time I’d seen one, yet it’s when it became my favorite flower.
But you know what else that day was Oliver? That day was when you told me that I was your best friend. You told me you would never leave me. That day you promised me you would never hurt me.
I believed you. I trusted you.
Seventeen years...
Oliver, when you left, I never questioned our friendship. I knew that if anything bad was to happen to me, you would be on the next flight home, no questions asked. It’s who we are, Oliver. It’s who we have always been. Or so I thought...
I’m sorry I inconvenienced you so much. I thought our friendship meant more to you. I thought I meant more to you... but I guess I was wrong.
Oliver, whatever you set out to do when you wrote to me, for the first time in six months, you’ve succeeded. You destroyed whatever friendship we had left and you shredded my heart along with it.
You have never purposefully hurt me until now. Not only did you abandon me; you broke your promise. You didn’t hurt me, Oliver. You shattered me. You’re not just as bad as Simon was, YOU’RE worse.
I hate you. I don’t think I’ve ever hated someone as much as I hate you. Fuck you, and fuck your memories. I don’t want them to linger. I want to forget about them. I want to forget about you.
I never ever want to see you or hear your name ever again.
Have a great life.
Or don’t, I don’t care.
Abbygail Evens
P.S. She looks like a blond bimbo. Not your type... well that’s what you always said anyway; but then again our entire friendship was a lie. So what do I know?
Fading Away
3 months later
Abbygail
Sitting on the ground with my head resting on the player’s bench, I breathed in the soundless breeze passing through the football field. The night was clear of clouds but unexpectedly cool for the first day of summer.
School was officially over. How I managed to pass tenth grade was beyond me. I don’t think I could recall anything I’d learned over the school year. According to the teachers, though, I apparently had retained sufficient information for me to move on to the next step. I was moving on to eleventh grade, one step closer to the end of high school.
One step closer to not knowing what the hell I’m going to do with my life… not that I care.
I laughed bitterly at myself, and took another swig at the bottle I was holding in my hand. Tequila was a hypocritical drink, but I loved how the buzz of too many consecutive shots hit me unexpectedly.
“Hello there, Abbygail.” I heard him call from a few feet behind me.
I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. I’d recognize the sound of his masculine voice anytime. “Hello, Damian.”
The entire concept of fleeing the end of year celebration I was supposed to be attending, was to avoid talking with anyone and be alone on the school’s football field. My appearance at the party lasted a total of one and a half hours before I decided to bail. It was just enough time for my friends to notice I’d made an effort to go, but not too long for me to get bored. It was also perfect timing for me to snatch the poor bottle of tequila just sitting there alone on our host’s kitchen counter without being noticed.
I swallowed another gulp and grimaced as I felt the burn traveling down my throat, but it wasn’t the strong taste of the alcohol that bothered me. It was the unpredicted arrival of the guy climbing the fence behind the bleachers. Damian was bad for me.
“Did you keep some for me?” he asked, as he got closer to where I was sitting.
I handed him the bottle and he sat further down the bench taking a gulp of his own. “So, Abbygail. I haven’t seen you here in a while. What’s got you wallowing here all alone?”
“I doubt you’ve ever seen me here at all, Damian.” I replied with in an edgy undertone
“Why would you say that?”
“Right off the top of my head? Because you’re not the football kind of guy.”
“And how would you know? I don’t really like when people make blind assumptions about me, Abbygail. You do know I hang out with Liam, don’t you?”
I sat up to join him on the bench and put my legs up facing him. “So? Just because your friends with the quarterback I’m supposed to guess that you watch him play?”
“You shouldn’t suppose anything at all,” he replied after swallowing another mouthful. He handed me my bottle back but still didn’t look at me. “You should ask. And for the record, he is my best friend.”
“So?”
He finally turned to see me watching him intently. “Well if I recall things correctly, no less than a year ago you were here on a daily basis encouraging your best friend.”
“How would you know that?”
“Just because you don’t see me, doesn’t mean I don’t see you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Great, I now have my own personal stalker.”
He laid his back on the bench and looked up at the sky. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just saying that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.”
“Trust me, I’m not judging you by your cover. I know who you are, Damian Bushmans.”
“Really?” He lifted his head to look at me for barely a second and then settled it back down. “You just titillated my curiosity, Ms. Evens. Please tell me. Who am I?”
“You’re the guy that drove my best friend away from me.”
No Regrets (No Regrets #1) Page 16