Chapter 11
This is going to be kinda short only because its more of a prologue for the second part of the story, sorry. I hope you'll enjoy it anyway though :)
Second semester of sixth grade, and nothing is like before.
You suppose it all began the day Helena and the rest of the Wells returned from their annual summer trip to England. When you saw her for that first time after so long, you felt older than before, wiser, as mature as an eleven and a half year-old could be. Gone, you soon realized, was what you now label as "puppy love" and here was a new and, once again, entirely foreign feeling.
Actually for a while, you believed what you and Helena had was friendship, a deep everlasting friendship. You didn't hug as often and when you did it wasn't like before, it was a friendship hug. You never kiss each others cheeks or stare into each others eyes. When you tell her she looks pretty it's because of what's she's wearing or how she's fixed her hair, not because her smile is radiant or her eyes sparkle. You still have sleepovers almost every weekend, but when you are asleep there is a respectable distance between the two of you. And you don't hold hands anymore...period.
It's not as horrible as it sounds it was a natural change, remember, you grew out of the puppy love. You are happy, Just as happy as before actually because the important things didn't change. You two are still inseparable, you always want to be with Helena and she always wants to be with you. You spend every moment you can with each other, whether it's playing in the park, in your rooms, in the shops, or in your secret place. Yes, it's still there, and yes, you two are still the only ones who know about it. The stars there have ceased to glow in the dark and logically they serve no real purpose except to add decoration to the room, but for some reason you still love them. They are bright blue and bold, bolder than black on white or Helena being Helena, you still find yourself swept up in to their symphony every time you enter the room and the magic they hold to you is still indescribable. They remind you of the years before, they remind you of that weightless feeling Helena used to give you, and the joy you used to see in her features when she smiled at you.
It's nice to remise in your elementary days and you know you aren't the only one who thinks so. Never have you ever seen Helena without that locket, without that piece of you hanging around her neck. She remembers too, you know it...
You love having a best friend, really you do, and you love with all you are that it's Helena. And yes that means you love Helena, but because she's your best friend, that's it. At least you think it is, you'll admit there have been times when you get that feeling in the pit of your stomach while she's talking to you, or while you're sitting near her on the couch. But you ignore it, because you know that you'll grow out of it just like you grew out of everything else. You'll always remember that old feeling, no doubt about it, but you'll also always know it will leave you, eventually.
"Myka, I don't want to go back to school." She whines as you walk next to her towards the bus stop.
"Nobody does." You tell her tucking your chin further into your scarf.
She shivers and groans again, "And when is it going to be warm again?"
You roll your eyes, Helena is defiantly not a morning person. "Same time it does every year." You tell her and she sighs.
You do feel bad for her, you've only been outside for two minutes and already her nose and cheeks are red, and, by the way she's moving her fingers, you know they're going numb. "We should move to a warmer place." She states. "What about Texas? Texas should be hot, right?"
"Helena." You laugh. "It's Texas, of course it's hot."
"Then why don't we live there? Or some other warm state? Anywhere but Colorado, honestly it's the coldest state in the U.S!" She exclaims loudly.
The yellow school bus etches up to the stop and its door opens with a familiar creak. You step on shaking your head at her amused. "Helena, Colorado is defiantly not the coldest state in the US."
"How would we know? I've never been to any other state and you've only ever been to Utah!" She reminds you as you take your everyday seats towards the front of the bus (the back, of course, is for the "cool" kids).
"Helena, do you know how many states are farther from the equator than Colorado?" You ask, after you've used your perfect memory to count.
She tilts her head, "How many?"
"Around twenty." You state staring at her pointedly.
"Twenty!" She gasps, shocked. "My goodness, how many states are there?"
You bring your hand to your head, "Helena... why don't you wake up a little more and answer that question yourself."
"Fine." She crosses her arms and huffs.
"Oh, don't act like that." You scold nudging her.
She turns her head to look out he window, face still twisted with anger.
"Helena." You say, "Come on, you have to admit it was a silly question?"
She keeps her head faced away from you.
"Helena." You whine annoyed for a moment until, out of no where, a wicked though occurs to you. "Don't make me tickle you." You whisper, sure that no one else would hear.
She jerks towards you with wide eyes, "You wouldn't dare."
You smirk, "Try me."
She eyes you for a moment and thinks through her options before sighing, "Alright fine, I'm sorry."
"It's okay, I know you're tired." You smile, adjusting your glasses.
"I'm exhausted." She agrees leaning her head against the seat. "I didn't sleep at all last night."
"Why not?" You ask.
Her face drops, and that haunted gaze tells you all you need to know.
"Oh Helena, I thought you said the nightmares stopped." You say placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"They did, for a week or two..." She trails off and begins fiddling with the edges of your scarf. "But they came back."
"I'm so sorry." You whisper. You can't even imagine what she's going through. She never really recovered from the break in, at least not when she's asleep.
"I just don't understand why I'm the only one having nightmares..." She mumbles frustrated. "How did you get over it?"
You shrug sadly, and shake your head "It was so long ago Helena, I don't even know."
She sighs.
"Helena, it doesn't make you weak you know that, right? He held a gun to your head, heck, he shot you!" You remind her, but it doesn't help.
"He shot you too." She says.
"Yes but Helena, you feel more than me. You have a bigger heart." You tell her softly.
She laughs pathetically, "I don't know about that..."
"Oh don't go humble on me now H.G, you know it's true." You snap playfully.
She smiles, and looks back up at you "Thank you Myka."
You swear your heart jumps to your throat. Goodness she is beautiful. "No problem." You manage trying to find your voice, she can't, after all, notice how you feel it would be a disaster.
"Alright kids!" The bus driver shouts over the laughs and voices of the other children. "Time to get off."
It takes you a moment to recover, but you shuffle off the bus along with everyone else. Walking side by side with Helena all the way to your first class. A couple of times you glance over at her, just to make sure she's alright, but every time you do your face gets hot- no doubt you are blushing. You try to shake yourself out of it but the feeling won't leave. Why won't it leave! You have to snap out of it! She is your best friend, you don't like her like that! You can't like her like that!
You take a deep breath and clear your mind, pushing all thoughts of her aside. It'll pass. It'll pass. It'll pass. Won't it...?
"Mom! I'm home!" You announce walking into the kitchen. Helena closes the door behind you. "Oh and Helena's with me!"
Your mother meanders in through the opposite doorway, her glasses on the edge of her nose as her eyes move rapidly over the page in her novel. "Hello HG." She says absentmindedly taking a seat the table.
Helena smiles amused, "Good afternoon, Mrs. Bering."
"Mom are we allowed to get a snack?" You ask, it's been hours since you ate lunch.
"The scissors are in the drawer sweetheart." She says waving her hand vaguely in that direction before bring her hand back to her hair, twirling her hair in suspense. "Be careful with them." She adds and you know she's not processing the words leaving her mouth.
Helena furrows her eyebrows and looks at you confused. You glance at her just as puzzled then turn back to your mother, who just sat down at the table. "Umm... Mom."
"Yes?" She still doesn't look up.
"Mom." You repeat with a little more force.
She draws her eyes away from the page reluctantly. And that's when you see she's biting her lip. "Oh hello H.G, dear" She smiles. "When did you girls get here?"
You share another uncertain glance with Helena before she speaks up, "Umm... Good afternoon Mrs. Bering?" She says cautiously. "We actually just arrived."
"And how was your day?" She asks, completely clueless, but acting with her normal motherly sweetness none-the-less.
"It was okay." You say still a little thrown off guard. Has your mother finally lost it? "We are just going to go upstairs now." You say slowly blindly reaching for Helena's arm to drag her along with you.
"Okay?" Your mother watches you leave a bit confused, but she quickly shrugs it off and returns to her apparently engrossing book.
"My mom has officially lost her marbles." You state throwing your backpack in the corner of your room.
Helena laughs, "I don't think so, Myka, she was just reading."
"Helena she talked to us and then completely forgot we were there, that is not normal." You tell her, thinking that fact was obvious.
She chuckles again and sets down her bag, "Oh Myka." She sighs sitting down on the bed. "You don't even realize how much you're like mother."
"What? No. We are nothing alike." You adamantly deny jumping to your feet.
Helena rolls her eyes, "So you are saying you've never bitten your lip while reading a nerve wrecking chapter?" She takes a step towards you. "Or you've never twirled your hair while thinking something over?" Another step. "Or perhaps you've never been so 'into' a book that you completely ignore the outside world?" Another step. "And let's not forget where you get those eyes from..."
You sink back down onto the bed, processing the information silently. "I ignore the whole world when I'm reading?"
"The entire world plus me!" She confirms with a light-hearted smile.
You fiddle with your hands, "Oh my gosh..."
She laughs and sits next to you, watching extremely amused as you struggle to grasp this concept. You are more like your mother than you thought.
"I suppose this would be a bad time to mention that I also noticed you inherited your mothers caring spirit, and quiet nature." She adds, and your embarrassment only grows.
You bury your blushing cheeks into your hands with a groan.
"Oh, and I do believe you get your red face from your father."
You groan louder and flop down to smother your face in a pillow. "Didn't need to hear that Helena."
"All I'm saying, Myka, is that most of these crazy, annoying things you think your parents do are things that you yourself do quite often."
You put your hands over your ears and shove your face into the bed even further. "Stop talking!"
"Oh! So now you are the one who doesn't want to hear what I have to say." She smirks. You know that tone, she's planning something... "Do you remember what you threatened to do to me on the bus this morning when I refused to speak to you?"
Your head shoots up, "Don't you dare." You breathe all of a sudden on high alert, ready to spring at any moment.
"Oh but Myka, you know how much I love dares."
You scoot away from her. "Ok- ok I'm sorry, I'll listen to what you have to say!"
"Too late now I'm afraid..." She strides towards you, grinning mischievously.
"That's not fair!" You shout springing off the bed as she darts for
"Who said anything about fair?" She asks chasing you swiftly to the other side of the room.
"Uhh..." You stumble backwards, almost tripping over that stack of books you meant to put on the shelf. "I would think your forgiving heart?" You attempt to flatter her.
"You overestimate me." She says lunging at you again, reaching out her hands in hope to snag your shirt or arm.
And so, you decide to sprint. You adapt the pattern of a circle- over the bed, around the stack of books, past the door, and back over the bed again. Around and around, with her right on your tail the entire time. Screams and shouts fill the air, along with your pleas for mercy and her continued threats and taunts.
"Helena, please!" You beg narrowly avoiding her grasp. "I said I was sorry!"
"I know you did, darling, but that's not enough!" She says delightfully. She is finding way too much pleasure in this, it can't be healthy.
"Wait. Helena!" You stop for just a moment. "You said 'darling'"
She doesn't stop though, so you have to duck to avoid her arms, quickly changing directions- clockwise rather than counter-clockwise. "Yes I did, darling."
"But-" you jump the books, "Your mother says darling."
"Yes, my parents influence me just like your parents influence you." She agrees knowingly. "Now stand still!"
"Why in the world would I do that?" You ask appalled, like you'd ever offer yourself as sacrifice.
A thought glimmers through her eyes, and suddenly she just stops running. But you are still sprinting at full speed, and once you finally manage to come to a halt you are, sadly, right in front of her. "Gotcha!" She shouts grabbing you around the waist tightly, throwing you onto the bed, and pinning you down with ease.
"Helena, please." You frantically plead, "I'm really reaaallllly sorry."
"I'm not." She smirks and the tickling begins.
It's a timeless action. It worked when you were seven and it'll work when you're seventy, you'll always be ticklish and she will always have a that advantage over you. But, thankfully, she'll never grow out of it either. You laugh, trying desperately to squirm out of her hold or at least grab her wrists, but nothing is working.
"Face it darling, you'll never get out." She chuckles and you know the wisest move now is to accept defeat.
You squeal like a little girl, your legs kicking wildly, and your arms failing helplessly. As much as this is torture, you have to admit you are finding an equal amount of enjoyment in it. You can't breathe, yes, but you can't stop smiling either. And you may be practically helpless and incapable of processing any thoughts, but there is no one you trust more than Helena. You'll never grow out of the feeling of her tickling you, not even when your hair is gray and wrinkles appear on your skin. Thinking back through your entire short life so far, at all the things that have passed and that will end eventually, at the things to come and the things that are just beginning, you are thankful that some things will never ever change