Fifteen Feet Ahead

Chapter X

Chapter X
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I ran straight for the bathroom. There was two other girls in there, fixing their makeup in the mirrors, but that didn't matter. If they laughed at me, I couldn't care less.

I found myself inside the larger handicapped stall, slamming and locking the door behind me. This wasn't your-typical-girl-crying-in-the-bathroom-scene because I didn't cry. I would say that I wasn't even sad, only angry, but that would be a lie because there was not a worse feeling than being betrayed by someone you trusted with everything you had.

Dani knew that I liked Sanders. She knew since the first month of our friendship. She was the one in middle school who would always try to get him to partner up with me in chemistry, who practically shoved me into his chest a few times in gym class, who would smirk and nudge me every time he'd walk into the room. Dani was the friend who would wholeheartedly try to set any of us up with our crushes. And I could always count on her for boy advice, because heck, no girl knew more about boys than Dani did. She lived with four of them.

I leaned against the pink tiled wall, almost hyperventilating, knees shaking, palms sweating. I wanted to puke. Maybe if I did, then this terrible feeling would bubble up my throat and into the toilet bowl. I got down on my knees and hovered my face over the toilet seat.

Why would Dani ever do such a thing? Did she like Sanders? Did he fancy her too? Or maybe she was just desperate? Did she want to upset me? Or did she just do it for a little fun and assumed that I'd never notice?

But I always notice Sanders Healy.

The questions circled around my head, whizzing around like balloons that were blown up, but never tied and randomly flew around the room, smacking the inner sides of my brain.

Was I going to faint? Maybe. Maybe it'd be good if I did.

It was then that I was shaken out of my thoughts by someone violently entering the bathroom. My heavy breathing, coughing and even the loudest and the most nauseating thoughts within my mind were silenced. I felt like whoever or whatever stormed into the restroom couldn't know that I was here too. Like it was a monster having a temper tantrum, and if I got in its way, then it'd crush me without any sympathy.

She or it stomped into the stall beside me. Black sequined six inch heels shimmered through the gap between the plastic stall and the ground. What kind of monster wore sparkly six inch tall heels? Stacey Jamenson, that's who. I would recognize those shoes anywhere because she wore them at the eighth grade semi-formal too. No one else dared to wear heels that high in middle school.

She was sobbing, loudly and uncontrollably. The sound of her desperate cries echoed off the bathroom walls. What could possibly make her cry so hard? My guess was that she probably wasn't getting enough attention from the guys, probably got called a whore by some upperclassman, and being the dramatic girl she was, she ran straight the to bathroom to cry about it. What a baby, what a little cry-baby. This was hilarious. Oh how I wished I could get this on video, Oh how Dani would...

Oh yeah, Dani.

My crush of four years was just making out with one of my closest friends. The boy I loved and someone I trusted with everything I had, but only a few tears had rolled down my cheek. Now here was Stacey, who would sob until her tears went dry, who had no idea what it meant to love someone. To really love someone, not just hook up with them. And I doubt she had any real friends like I did.

My amusement from Stacey's dramatic entrance began to fade, reminding myself why I was really in here, but I didn't feel that sick anymore.

She seemed pretty occupied with her own despair, so it looked like a prefect time to escape. I was going to walk home.

I slowly began to open the stall door, when to my disappointment, the metal hinges let out an excruciating creak. I winced, knowing Stacey would hear me, knowing I hadn't made it out completely safe and unnoticed.

Her sobs quieted, stunned by the fact that there had been another human being inside this restroom, that someone else had heard her desperate weeps.

I was about to make a run for it, but giving a small glance inside the mirror, I realized that just a few tears can completely ruin my makeup. Black stains dripped all down my face. I looked like a monster, and there was no way was I going outside like this.

I decided that I was still safe. Yeah, Stacey Jamenson knew someone else was in the same restroom, but she had no idea who and by sounds of it, I doubted she'd come out of that stall any time soon. So, I walked up to a sink and turned on the warm water. Wetting my face and squirting foam soap onto my hand, I scrubbed my face as forcibly as I could.

Nothing was coming off. A few tears could leave me looking like a monster, but an entire facial scrub had no effect at all. Jeez Lucile, what kind of makeup did you use? My heart began to thump faster and faster as I continued to rub soap all over my face. The dance would be completely over before I got this crap off.

"Here, have this."

I jerked my head around so instantly, I was surprised that my neck didn't snap. It was Stacey, and I thought I was going to explode, for I had been discovered. Stacey Jamenson now knew that I too was hiding out in the school restroom during the homecoming dance.

She placed a makeup remover toilette in my palm, "This works much better."

"Uh, thanks." I stuttered.

"It's no problem." Her makeup was just as worse as mine.

With the remover that she had given me, it took less than a minute to completely wipe every inch of makeup from my face. I guess Stacey Jamenson was good for one thing.

"It works pretty great, doesn't it?" She sighed, cleaning off her face in the mirror beside me. My guess is that she's had a lot of experience with things like this because I don't know of anyone else who happens to keep makeup remover with them wherever they go. Stacey cries all the time, so I guess it's just like keeping a couple of Advil pills or spare sanitary supplies with you wherever you go.

"Yeah," I choked. "I guess so."

She backed away from the mirror, looking me in the eyes. It was like she could see right through me, like her piercing blue eyes dug all the way into the darkest depths of my soul. And it hurt, for her to look at me this way.

"Well Miranda, I hope your night gets better." She started, yanking up on her strapless dress. "And I gotta go, my sister's here to pick me up, but you have to promise me something."

I was dumbstruck. What kind of promise? What could she possibly want from me? There was no way in hell that I would do any favor for someone like Stacey Jamenson.

"Look, I won't tell anyone that you were here crying, if and only if you don't tell anyone that I was here too." To my relief, this mutual deal was the only thing she asked for.

Even though I technically never cried, I agreed, "Okay, it's a deal."

A half smile appeared upon her face as she pulled her locks of blonde hair behind her ears.

"Thanks."

And with that, she exited the restroom. Not another sound. Not only did she leave me all alone, but she left me speechless. It was funny because I remember only a few minutes ago I was contemplating taking out my phone and snapping a video of her hysterical sobs, and now I had given her a promise just to keep my mouth shut. And it was even funnier that I actually kept this promise. I didn't tell anyone, not even Lucile.
But the weirdest part was that I had guilt. Just for a moment, I felt sorry, sorry for ever laughing at her.