Warmth

▪ 6 ▪

Neither I nor him apologized to each other for our behaviours and one week went by after the fight without us talking. And I felt like I was going crazy at the end of the week.

We ignored each other effectively in school and no one found this unusual because no one else knew about our friendship aside from Phoebe in the first place. We barely talked at school even before.

Phoebe and my conscience advised that I should go and apologize to him first since it was me who started it.

So, on Friday I went to a party instead. Against all my better judgement.

Wearing my edgiest clothes, the party I went to turned out to be one of the wildest in town. Loud music blaring out of the speakers, neon lights flashing everywhere, drugs and wine passing from hand to hand- I lost myself in a place that once had been so familiar to me.

I danced for some time but still felt empty. I made out with some random guys but still felt empty. I drank for some time but still felt empty.

I was craving for something more but something that didn't belong here. A certain kind of warmth that I could only find in a certain person's company. I was craving for that rich aroma of black coffee.

I was unreservedly drunk after my third bottle when a random guy handed me some crack. It was a rich man's drug and everyone was grabbing at it like it was gold dust; maybe in a way it was for broken souls like me. Without hesitation, I ended up snorting it. Then one more time again.

I didn't remember anything much after that except the fact that I started feeling over the clouds.

_

The next day I woke up with a massive headache and vomit inducing grogginess on my own bed.

As soon as I let out a painful groan, Phoebe walked into the room with a tall glass full of sickly green liquid. Her special homemade hangover drink. She sat down beside me.

"Did you bring me home last night?" I asked, rubbing my forehead.

"Yes." Phoebe answered.

"What did you say to mom?"

"I said my thing. You don't have to worry 'bout that."

"Thanks, Pheebs."

Instead of saying 'no problem' like she usually did, she reached out and held my hand. "Why don't you just go talk to him? And apologize. It's not that hard."

I remained silent. I knew it wasn't hard but my pride was bigger than I showed outside.

"Do you realize how disappointed he'll be when he sees me in this state?" I said. "He will never talk to me ever again and I don't want that."

"So you're not gonna tell any of this to him? Like you smoked crack for the first time because of him and fainted at a stranger's house? If someone hadn't called me... he's your friend too, you know."

"He doesn't have to know." I said harshly with a stony face. "It's better that way."

She sighed in defeat.

I took my phone slowly and checked my message box. There were no calls or texts for him. I wasn't expecting anything, knowing his nature but still I felt a pang of disappointment.

"I knew I had no future with him but," I said quietly. "But I just wanted to be his friend at least, you know. And now that I've become his friend, I've started asking for more. How can I be so selfish and pathetic, Pheebs?"

Phoebe said nothing as she slowly embraced me. She was warm. "You're not selfish, Sash and definitely not pathetic. He's the one who doesn't know what he's missing out."

I knew it wasn't true but still her words made my heart swell up with emotion because they sounded so genuine and sincere, or maybe I was still a bit high. I started sobbing in her arms silently as she patted my back soothingly.

_

Word count: 670