Rejected By My Bestfriend, Accepted By The Badboy

Chapter Thirty-Two

I stood outside my house in a nervous mess.

I tried to move forward, but my feet wouldn’t go.

It was almost one in the afternoon by the time Fabian dropped me off, and I looked back for the umpteenth time to ensure that he was still there. Just like every time I checked, he was sitting in the car under the neighbour’s tree, staring at me.

“You can do this, Paris,” I mumbled, trying to give myself a push. Still, I felt stuck. With a deep breath, I grabbed my phone and dialled Cynthia’s number. She picked up on the third ring.

“Paris? Where are you?” she asked, sounding distressed.

I sighed. “I’m outside. Can you—um—can you meet me by the porch?”

“Sure. I’m on my way.” On a typical day, she would’ve made fun of me for being a baby. But she, more than anyone, understood the intensity of the situation and our feelings.

As she appeared in front of me, I felt my guilt resurface full folds. Her eyes were red and puffy, and the evident dark circles under her eyes told me we shared a similar night of little to no sleep. I left her to suffer here on her own. It killed me.

“I’m so sorry,” I mumbled as I pulled her in a hug. She pushed back a little to regard me with confusion evident on her face.

“For what?” she questioned with her straight eyebrows now pulled together.

“I left you here,” I told her. “I had Fabian to cheer me up, and I left you alone.”

She sighed before pulling me to her chest again. “Hey, it’s okay. We were both upset and hurt. I’m not mad at you. In fact, I’m happy you weren’t here.”

“Why?” I asked, cocking my head to the side.

She shrugged and dropped her gaze, with a hint of pink taking over her cheeks. “I cried, Paris. That shit is embarrassing for me.”

We both chuckled a bit at that. As always, Cynthia will be Cynthia. Still, I vowed that I would be there for her from now on. She is only fifteen. Though she is definitely old enough to understand her emotions and what was going on around her, she still needed a little more guidance.

Come to think of it, it was only when things changed at home that she started rebelling. How did I not notice? I always felt that it was the influence of high school that changed her. I wasn’t the only one who noticed how different our parents were. Mom and dad only ever agreed on decisions and punishment when it came to Cynthia and me. Could it be that Cynthia became a ‘rebel kid’ to get some sort of normalcy in our family again?

She’s a smart kid. I should’ve known. I was too consumed by my own feelings to notice. But not anymore.

“From now on, we have each other’s backs, okay? Things won’t be easy for us henceforth. You know that, right?”

“I know,” she said with a nod. “Let’s do that.”

I felt better knowing that we were doing this together. We were siblings, after all.

“Are you ready to go inside?” she asked. “They have been waiting for you.”

With a deep breath and another look in Fabian’s direction, I held onto Cynthia’s hand and moved to face our future.

My parents were sitting on the couch in the living room as if this was an interrogation or sentencing for the rest of our lives. My mother jumped to her feet as she saw me, and my dad followed in suit with a serious yet determined look on his face, and I knew this couldn’t be good.

“Paris,” my mom whispered as she took a shaky step towards me. “What you saw last night was unacceptable, and I am so sorry, could—”