10

Hayley's POV

Another sob ripped through my throat and Emily tightened her grip around me. "Oh, Hay…" She sighed. "It's ok, c'mon… I'm sure he'll forgive you…"

"No!" I almost choked yelling that. I had to stop and cough a bit before resuming. "No, I ruined everything! His mother…" I hiccupped. "… asked me—no, made me PROMISE that I would…" Another hiccup. "… never tell him, and it's… it's the first thing I did!" The sobs took over again and I wrapped my arms around Emily's neck for the fifth time. "I lied to him!" Hiccup. "I made him hate me! And I… I kissed him! A—And he pushed me away!" I couldn't go on. I felt like I'd cried so much I should've been dry already. Dry like an old leaf falling from a tree in late November.

But no, the tears were still flowing, soaking Emily's shirt. She should've brought a bathing suit.

The bell rang then, and sadly I was forced to let go of my understanding friend and get ready for my next class. Which, OBVIOUSLY, was chemistry! Wooow, who would've thought!?

I almost managed to turn my face an almost normal color—instead of Elmo-red—before entering the classroom. Josh wasn't there. Jack Barakat was though—the world is full of surprises!—smiling dumbly at me. I looked down. How would I go through the whole class without telling him about what had happened yesterday? I knew I couldn't, but I was a real drama queen, and when I had something on my mind, everyone had to know.

But I wouldn't tell him.

…

Yeah right.

Ten minutes later, I had spilled the whole story. Well, not the WHOLE story, because I would never EVER tell anyone—except Emily, but she was trustworthy!—about Josh's problems, but I had still told Jack about how angry he'd been at me after I'd tried to kiss him and how guilty I felt for talking to his mom behind his back.

"So, what the hell were you talking to his mom about?" Jack asked, confused. "Wait. Do I wanna know?"

I smiled—almost. "No."

He simply nodded, not pushing me any further. This was something I liked about Jack; he knew when it was ok to be annoying and when it was time to stop. "Listen, I'm not really good at this stuff, but maybe you should try and talk to him?"

"I can't," I said immediately. "He hates me…"

"Miss Williams! Pay attention!" Mrs. Henry yelled at me. God, she sounded like a crow with a sore throat!

"Sorry…" I muttered. Ten seconds later, I continued the conversation. "I can't talk to him," I whispered, "because it'll only make things worse!"

"But if you don't talk to him it won't make things better!" Jack replied. Huh. Made sense.

I sighed exasperatedly. And then, an idea hit me. "Maybe you should talk to him. You know, from one guy to another. Maybe he'll listen to you!"

Jack scoffed. "And what the fuck should I tell him? Hey man, I talked to that chick you hate, and she told me I should tell you to forgive her."

I chuckled and slapped his shoulder. "Not like that! Just tell him—"

"MISS WILLIAMS! Do I need to put you at another table? One where you won't be so tempted to share secrets with your partner during class?" I quickly shook my head. For some reason I was sure that if she made me switch partners I would end up with Josh. "Good. Now, I don't wanna hear another word, understood?" I nodded. I didn't want to take any chances, so I kept my mouth shut for the rest of the class.

After the bell rang though, I managed to tell Jack one last thing before he rushed out of the classroom. "Talk to him, k?" He sighed and nodded before being swallowed by the wave of students drowning the hallways.

Josh's POV

I was a terrible child. If I were my mother—which is weird and physically impossible but that's beside the point—I would shove me in a basket and push the basket down Niagara Falls. Well, maybe a barrel would be more fitting.

I missed school that morning for the pure and simple reason that I didn't want to go. I didn't feel ready to face everyone. Oh and I had chemistry, and I definitely didn't feel ready to face HER again.

I spent the morning roaming around the school's neighbourhood, since I couldn't stay home because I didn't want to worry my mom. It was rather gray and empty, but I didn't see much of it. It was too lost in thought. And honestly, it was not "peaceful, meditating" kind of thinking. For a while I actually considered killing myself before deciding that it was stupid and weak.

In the end, I forced my feet to lead me back to the school with the pretext that I couldn't run away forever and the faster I faced it, the faster this would all be over. If it ever would.

I got there around noon. Everyone was happily frolicking to the cafeteria with their lil' buds. I just stood there and watched them for a second—gosh, they were all so pathetic—before slowly walking over to an empty table. No one would bother me there. I wasn't planning on eating anything—obviously—despite the fact that I felt like my guts had turned into a colony of angry carnivore ants.

So I just sat there peacefully, wondering how I would survive through high school—and everything after that—when all of a sudden…

"Hey, Ramsay!" What the fucking fuck did he want?

"Hey… Barakat," I muttered in an almost civilized manner. "What are you doing here… in this empty corner of the cafeteria…?" I raised my eyebrows.

"I should ask you the same question." I made it clear that I wasn't in the mood for that kind of attitude. He looked down and started over. "Well, ya know… Got ditched by my guys. So I thought, I'm a lonely man, you're a lonely man… lonely men stick together."

Ha. I almost bought it. Almost. "Right…"

He cleared his throat and quickly changed the subject. "So did you watch the game last night?"

Oh, right. Sports. My favourite topic. "I don't really watch sports."

"Oh…" He looked down. "Well um, actually I was talking about the game of bingo on the Church Channel." If I'd had anything in my mouth right then, I would've choked on it. For a second I even managed to smile. Jack chuckled. "I guess you could call it a sport…" he said hesitantly, "I mean, the physical effort required is quite high for 95-year-olds."

"They really play that stuff of the Church Channel?"

"I guess. I mean, it happens in a church so… I suppose that's like, the exciting moment of the day."

I snickered and loosed up a bit. Jack sure knew how to lighten the atmosphere! Still though, I wasn't fooled. There was a reason he'd come to talk to me, and I would find out what it was.

"That's great man, I'm glad to know you know so much about the daily life of a 95-year-old." I crossed my arms like a detective and put on my serious face—you know, the one I'd been wearing for the past eighteen hours. "But why are you here? Seriously?"

Jack bit his lip guiltily. I knew it! "I talked to Hayley this morning." Oh fuck. Why was I not surprised? "She um… she asked me to tell you she's sorry."

I raised one eyebrow in disbelief. "Uhuh. What else? Did she send me flowers?"

"Come on man, don't be a dick. She's fucking miserable!"

I was going to say something snappy again, but I choked on the sudden panic that filled me when I realised Hayley had probably told this fucktard everything about what had happened the previous day. What if she'd told him about my… issues!? Shit! But I had to make sure first. I leaned over the table and looked him straight in the eyes. "What exactly did Hayley tell you, anyway?"

He leaned backwards a bit and muttered, "Ya know… that you got angry 'cause she tried to kiss you… And 'cause she was talking to your mom about stuff…"

I could hear my heart pounding in my ears but I tried keeping it off my face. "What kind of stuff?"

He shrugged. "She said I don't wanna know."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. So she hadn't told him.

I felt a sudden twinge of guilt at the fact that I'd actually believed she had told him—or anyone, for that matter. If there was one thing I could be grateful of, it was that Hayley respected me enough to keep my secret. And… hell, maybe she even cared about me. Maybe she wasn't so bad after all, and I really WAS just being a jerk…

But no. She could be nicer than Mother Theresa, it wouldn't change the fact that she couldn't help me. That she couldn't understand. That she'd lied to me, like everyone else. That she'd talked about me behind my back with my own MOTHER like I was some retarded psycho escaped from the asylum. It wouldn't change the fact that I hated her.

"She really feels bad, you know," Jack said matter-of-factly. He really picked the right moment to shove that at me.

"I don't care," I replied bitterly. "She can cry herself to death if she wants." Ugh, I was such a cruel asshole. "Besides, if she feels so fucking bad why doesn't she just talk to me in person, instead of sending her little slave over here!?" Jack frowned, but I noticed a tiny smile playing on his lips. How could he still think this was funny? "You know, man, I'm fucking sick of this." And on that note, I got up and went to find myself another table. One where I wouldn't be bothered by anyone. And this time I meant it.