All That I'm Asking For.
Jade POV
Three days. That's how long I've been laying in my bed. I barely eat, barely move. I don't know why this is affecting me so much. I was the one to walk away, right?
I couldn't sleep that night – or any other, for that matter. That broken expression, the hurt and confusion. I kept seeing her face right in front of me. I wanted to reach out, hold her, comfort her. But that wasn't – isn't – my place, because I am the reason she's broken, hurt and confused.
I am so freaking conflicted right now! I want to run straight to her, confess everything and hold her. But that is exactly the thing I can't and won't do. And for what? Because I'm so desperately holding on to old morals? I hate those morals. They are not even mine, they are my parents.
Argh! Why do I keep doing this? I ran. I walked away. I kept pushing her back every time she just tried to be my friend. She did so much for me and I gave nothing. She gave me all she had and I took it. Abusing it. Her charity that I said I didn't need, yet longed to have. A friend who would unconditionally accept me for who I was. Not someone like Cat, who wouldn't care who or how, or what I was – she would like me anyway, 'cause that's what she does. Not someone like Beck, who was – and is – the best friend and boyfriend anyone can ever wish for. Too perfect, too sweet. And maybe because of that too innocent to load all your dark secrets on, because he seemed to have none. No, someone like Tori. Someone like her is someone I deeply needed back then. And I could have her. All of her. But that would be giving in, letting my problems win and get the better of me. No, you had to stay on top of them, where you were safe because you couldn't see them unless you looked down in defeat. Tori wasn't a problem though, she was a solution. My way out. Yet, I kept pushing her back, throwing her down and making her really small so she would fit in with the rest of my problems. Because that's what you do; stay on top of them.
That's what I did. What my mother would do, what my father would do.
I believe everyone has a person in their life that changes them – whether this change comes during puberty or a mid-life crisis. Someone that inspires them to move on and become someone better. Every outsider, everyone that doesn't know me, would say that for me it was my dying grandmother. And honestly, I would love to say that. But then I'd be lying. Because she wasn't any better than my mother. During my grandmother's deathbed I learned that she was just like my mother, or rather, my mother was just like her. I guess that's why my mother was who she was. Maybe she didn't want to be like that, but she didn't know any other way. So she stuck with morals that weren't her own, lived by them and eventually made them her own. Even though I mourn my grandmother more than my parents – for the simple reason that, on occasion, she actually taught me some things – it's not because she was the loving old woman that taught me the most important thing: to be who I pleased to be. And somehow, it's because she represented myself. Everything I was, everything I used to be. The old Jade West, who was just like my mother – and sometimes still is – clinging onto morals that aren't even her own. The Jade West I knew so well died along with my grandmother, because I was sane enough, maybe brave enough, to leave the façade behind me. Throw the white towel in the ring, close the curtains. I was sane enough to see that I am not that girl who hates everything and everyone. I was brave enough to start over.
If I would name anyone who helped me become someone better I'd say it was me, no matter how egoistic that may sound. I threw away the mask, I decided on a clean start... When I was twenty-years old. Exactly four years after I realized I didn't want to be that Jade West anymore. And there's only one person I should thank for that.
Tori Vega.
And I was doing just fine. I was nice to people, I smiled, I enjoyed and I occasionally hated on everything and everyone around me. I made my own rules, my own morals and I lived by them. I was doing just fine. And then Tori came along. It was like a junkie who just got out of rehab, clean, ready to start fresh. And he was doing great until something happened and he fell again. Down into that black hole that once ruined his life. Morals I almost forgot about came rushing back to me. Making her a problem again. A problem she never was.
And here I am. Wondering how the hell I am going to fix this. Pick up the pieces and glue that statue back together. Easier said than done. It's like a puzzle; little pieces of problems. Hundreds, thousands of them. Little pieces of problems that, when assembled correctly, form a solution. You have to pick them all up, one by one, put the glue on them and find the piece that matches. And then find the piece that matches with that one. After all, all your problems are inevitably related, you just don't see it at first.
But I shattered my statue into a million pieces I guess. Impossible to assemble. Impossible to...
"What the hell?" I avert my eyes from their spot on the ceiling, my thoughts interrupted by the sound of a doorbell. I am fighting with myself; should I get up and open the door or should I stay in the bed that I am sure will show a silhouette of me when I get up. The doorbell rings again. Persistent visitor is persistent. And that makes it oh, so tempting to stay put and count in my head how long it takes for them to leave. But on the other hand, I don't deal well with curiosity. I want to open that door, because I will forever ask myself who my visitor was if I don't go. I will forever ask myself what would've happened if I had opened the door. Of course, when I do open it, I will forever wonder what would've happened if I hadn't opened it. But if there's one thing I learned, one moral that is completely mine, it's that I rather regret the things I did over the things I didn't.
And even before I finish that thought, I'm at my door, bell ringing for the third time. I take a deep breath, unconsciously preparing myself for whatever is to come. Here goes nothing.
After I unlock it, I push down the handle and pull the door towards me. And there in my hall stands someone I regret not staying in touch with the most. But she is exactly as I remember her and exactly as I knew she'd be. Twenty-three, but never too old for bright, red hair. I fight the urge to smile, because the disapproving look on her face tells me that someone else did keep in touch with her. It tells me that I am going to hear exactly how much I hurt Tori Vega.
I am a criminal about to hear my crimes, about to be charged guilty and Cat is the Judge.
Wordlessly I let her in. I once was her best friend, I knew she considered me close enough to call me that and she knew I returned the favor. However, there was a mutual, unspoken, agreement that neither of us would ever admit how much I cared about her. How much I told her, how well she knew me. How well I knew her.
Believe me, Cat is smarter than you'd give her credit for. She could pass university without an effort. If she wanted to. Cat has always enjoyed life to a degree most people don't understand. She sees everything from a positive perspective. In public you will never see her break down, you will never see her show any other emotion than pure contentment. And when you do, when she is upset, it will be about something insignificant, lasting not longer than ten minutes, before returning to that bubbly state of mind. But when need be, she can be dead serious. It has scared me in the past, and the way she sits on my couch, looking at me... It still scares me now. I breath in and she slowly shakes her head, closing her eyes.
"I don't think you realize what you did." When she is like this, all serious and, well, real, her voice is much deeper. As if it has been used for decades, centuries, preaching with wisdom.
"Well, do you?" Her voice is firm, slightly raised. I have been silent for too long.
"I think I do." I sigh, eyes on the ground, unable to look at her. I just stole a cookie from the cookie jar when mommy explicitly told me not to do that.
"Oh, really? Well, enlighten me."
"Have you come here to hear me say sorry, or something?" I rely on defense, as I always do. I raise my own voice, now looking at her with something that's close to a death-stare. I rely on defense, because I have a pretty good idea of what I did. What damage I caused. But facing it is a whole other reality.
"I am not the one you have to say sorry to." Her voice is calm again, she takes a deep breath. I know she came here for a serious conversation, not an heated argument.
"Tell me, Jade, is this really how you want to push all of us away?"
"I didn't mean to. I just... I just couldn't."
"I don't care that you never called, or visited. I honestly didn't even expect you to. I don't care if we never speak again after this, if that's what you want. But she does care. And the least you can do is give her an explanation. Because she deserves an explanation." The reason I didn't stay in touch with Cat is one I've said before; you don't cling to old friends forever. But her clear view on life is a reason too. A lot of things I haven't done in the past five years are things I would've done if I still saw Cat. She talks me out of the stupid and into the good. For every reason I can come up with not to do something, she has two why I should do it, and vice versa. And she, as usual, is so right. So I nod and we sit for probably half an hour, not saying a word.
However, it takes me a good week to come up with the courage to actually go and ring the doorbell of her apartment. I nervously play with the hem of my shirt and ironically I feel like I'm waiting for my date to open the door. But then too soon I hear the door unlock and there's no going back.
"Cat, I don..." Her voice dies as soon as she has the door completely open. I look up from the ground and for a moment we just stare at each other, that beautiful moment when brown meets blue. I don't think she expected to ever see me again and I don't know what to say. So I hold up the box I'm loosely holding in my right hand.
"I brought you donuts, because I know icecream doesn't solve all the world's problems." She briefly smiles and it gives me slight hope we can get past this. It gives me slight hope that one day, a hundred years from now, we'll laugh about that time I walked out on dinner. One day. But not today.
"I was hoping you would come for a walk with me. Maybe talk a bit." Her eyes fill with confusion, pushing away the hurt look that makes it impossible for me to look at her too long. I'm sure there are thousands of question in her mind right now; thousands of reasons to decline and go back inside. Just as I am about to simply hand her the donuts and leave, she speaks up. It's soft and barely there, it's broken and hurt.
"Let me get my coat." She turns around and I sigh in relief. Though I probably hate it the most, I get the chance to talk to her. Explain.
There's a strong tension between us as we walk to the park. It's my favorite place in Hollywood. I love to sit on the swings and watch people. Wonder what their story is, where they came from, where they're headed next. What shaped them, what breaks them. Wonder about other people's miseries instead of my own. I've done it since I was eleven.
Out of pure habit I walk towards the swings instead of the nearest park bench. She looks bewildered at first, but as I sit down on the left swing, staring ahead of me, she occupies the swing to my right. And for a moment we just sit there, donuts still in my hands, words only being spoken inside our minds.
"I don't know what to say." Tori is the type of person to lay her hand on your arm and tell you it's okay. That you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I think for her, knowing that someone is willing to talk is enough. One day they will come to her and stop her from stopping them. It is a good technique; at least you're sure they really, really want to talk.
"I don't know what to say, because there really aren't any words. I have wondered what I could possibly say, how I can explain why I did what I did." I stare ahead, I stare down, I stare left. I look everywhere, except at her. And I know she's looking at me. I can feel her eyes on me, trying to read me. Trying to read my mind.
"I don't even know why, you know." This is the part I hate about talking; that moment when you can't stop, because it feels too good to let it all out.
"I guess I'm just afraid, Tori." I look at her, as my eyes start to water. She is taken aback, surprised. The last and only time she saw me cry was because I wanted Beck back. How things have changed; how I have changed.
"I am afraid because I'm not who I was anymore." I don't think she understands, but I don't really need her to. Not now at least. I just need someone to listen, as selfish as that may be.
She is making everything so damn complicated.
"All I asked for was to be your friend." I can't help but sigh. However, she is right. This is about her and what I did. It's not about me and who I am. Yet, in a way, it is. Because who I am is the reason why she can't be my friend.
"All that I am asking for is to be your friend." Well, at least I know she still doesn't hate me. She still wants the same, damn thing. To be my friend. Some guy from this tv-show once said that sometimes you have to go with second best. In two weeks time I came to realize that I am so in love with Tori Vega, that having her as my friend is a mere second best.
"Please Jade, give me at least that." I look up now. There are so many emotions in those beautiful brown eyes. They give her plea a second meaning. That pleading look in her eyes... It either tells me that letting her in as my friend is the least thing I can do or it tells me that letting her in as my friend isn't enough to her, but the least thing she can get. Like a second best.
I must be seeing my own thoughts in her eyes, because there is no way she can feel the same way I feel. She is Tori and I am Jade. She is the sun, I am the moon. In my shadow, she can shine.
Still, for a brief moment I wonder off. To a place where she does feel the same for me and it makes me wonder. Wonder if she's asking herself if I feel the same way for her. It's a nice place to be, but too good to be true. So for now, until that moment when we laugh about me walking out on dinner, I'll take my second best. I'll take it and I'll value it. This time I won't let her go, like Jade West did five years ago. I nod.
"I think I could do that." I see the relief washing over her features, relaxing her entire body, letting a single tear fall from her right eye. I hand her a donut.
A/N: I feel like I should be disclaiming a little bit of song lyrics in here. To those who noticed, not counting the title, it is not mine. Though I don't think anyone noticed, and if someone did, then I love you! Also, the first reviewer who knows what guy on what tv-show used the "second best" quote gets... something. Like, I don't know, a mention or a say in whatever is to come.
Anyways, even if you don't know the answer to either of above discussed issues, your review is still very much appreciated.