Five Steps Away

Chapter 7

She's wearing a two set plaid skirt and jacket with a white tube top underneath, and she has her earphones hanging around her neck as always, but they're not plugged in. When she notices me she looks away and starts walking faster. I practically run to catch up to her.

"Hey." I say out of breath, now walking beside her. Jenna doesn't reply. "Hey." I try again. Silence.

"Ok, I get that I missed the first session but you're being dramatic." Jenna stops in her tracks and she slowly turns to face me. Here it comes.

"See that's the thing. This isn't just about the fashion show. I'm always there for you. But when I need you you're never there. Remember that football game junior year? You asked me to go with you to watch Cire play fucking quarterback. I went to that game for you and do you remember what you did? You dipped halfway." Her voice is rising with every word she says, and people start to glance our way. Oh God she's really mad. Why is she bringing back something that happened years ago?

"So I want to spend time with other people, what's wrong with that? My life doesn't revolve around you."

"Yeah, it revolves around him! That's all you fucking talk about now! Oh, Cire gave me his hoodie, he called me pretty, he breathed, God you just never fucking shut up about it!"

"So am I not allowed to talk about my life anymore? And I'm not even dating him anymore anyway!" I bark out, but she barely pays me any attention. Like a bottle that's been accumulating too much, she's finally exploding. And it doesn't seem like she's gonna stop any time soon.

"That's the thing, you're not dating him anymore, but your life still revolves around him."

"No, it doesn't—" I try, but her voice only raises.

"You're so goddam selfish! You're fucking selfish and arrogant and all you've fucking cared about since Sophomore year is yourself and your shitty boyfriend. Do you know what happened? My dad lost his job and I don't know how I'm gonna pay for fucking college anymore, did you know that?"

I open my mouth, only for nothing to come out. Is she serious?

"Of course you didn't. I can't get a single fucking word in without you talking about Cire. I needed this to work so badly. The fashion show scholarship is my last hope at having a fucking future and you weren't there to help."

"Jenna—" I try, my voice softer.

"No, I'm done. I'm fucking done with your shit!" Jenna screams, her face hard and red. She spins around and starts walking again. I've never seen her so angry. And I can't help but feel irritated. Something I seem to only feel when she's around. What gives her the right to paint me like the bad guy? It's always my fault with her. She never takes accountability.

I grab her arm to stop her. "What about me? Do you realize how hard it is being your friend?" I shout, thinking back to every lunchtime, every football game, every class we've had together. She always has something to say. Always has criticism in whatever I do.

My eyes are so red I hardly see her nod, and shut her mouth into a straight tight line.

She storms toward the school entrance, practically shaking with anger. At the double doors, right before she goes in, she turns to me. And for the first time in the 13 years I've known her, I see a small tear roll down her cheek.

"Don't every fucking talk to me again." She spits out. Then she's inside, blending in with the other students. I look around, furiously playing with the pendant on my necklace as I realise that people were watching.

Not even seconds later, the conversation replays itself in my head over and over. My best friend since kindergarten, the girl that sat next to me in the cafeteria in primary, the girl who used to stuff her bras with me in middle school.