Bitter

twenty-eight - cal

My enemy for as long as I could remember walked my way and sat down next to me. She was just letting her legs hang from the swing beside mine, just sitting there. Her hair looked almost white in the moonlight and it was covering part of her face, so I couldn't see her expression. Neither of us spoke because if we did, everything would feel more real. If we spoke, we wouldn't be able to pretend that tonight was just a dream and I could go back to hating Lydia again tomorrow.

   Marco had almost died tonight and that realization just sunk in. I hadn't been able to find Haley, but I guess I'd see him again at school and I didn't know what I'd do when I did. Something that would get me expelled probably.

   I stole a glance at Lydia who was staring down at her shoes. She was now swinging very slightly, the chains squeaking even though she was barely moving. The chilly air appeared to be getting to her because she blew into her hands, then rubbed them together. I looked away from her, over at the monkey bars, and cleared my throat. "You know, you could've stayed at the party," I mumbled. You should've stayed at the party.

   The squeaking ended abruptly and I heard her sigh. It was about a minute before the wind carried her soft voice to me. "No, I couldn't have," was all she said. What did that mean? I peered at her then and her eyes flicked up, to look at me. "West is going to kill someone," she said so seriously, so sure. Hearing those words made my damp sweatshirt feel even colder against my skin. Not if I get to him first.

   She went back to studying her shoes and I went back to watching the monkey bars. Silence settled down around the swing set again and leaves swished in small gusts of wind. I shivered.

   "Are you cold?" Lydia asked out of nowhere. Maybe she was trying to make conversation, but what kind of question was that? My clothes were still wet from the pool and it was now freezing out. What did she think?

   "No," I lied for fun.

   She shook her head and most likely rolled her eyes while the chains of the swing started squeaking again. She swung slowly, barely, back and forth. She was looking at a spot of mulch on the ground and I was actually the one to speak again.

   "There's where you attacked me," I commented, knowing it would get a reaction from her because stuff like that usually did. It didn't though, not this time. Maybe she was thinking about how weird it was that after all these years, we were at our old playground together on a swing set. I looked over at her and she didn't tear her gaze away from that one spot. It was like she was hypnotized.