DELINQUENT | C. SPRINGER

One Last Time

"So you gonna tell me what happened?" Sasha asks quietly from the drivers seat of her car, taking you back home from the bowling alley.

You stare out the window with a tear streaked face. "Nothing happened."

"Mhmm, sure. That's why you called me to come rescue you?" She side-eyes you.

With a heavy sigh you decide to divulge every last secret that you've been withholding from your best friend.

"In the equipment shed!?" She gasps. "You should've told me sooner! I could've helped you out! I mean, I did kind of catch on and did organize that ride home last night. But now I wish I didn't. He's such a dick!"

"No...I'm just an idiot," you lean your head back and groan.

Sasha tries to reassure you, but it's no use. She's been friends with him just as long as she has with you and she has no excuse for his behavior.

"So now that that's over, it's probably gonna be rough at school from now on. I'll probably need your company so I don't end up crying in my car every class period," you pick at your nails.

Sasha nods. "Of course. But I'm gonna have a talk with Connie so you don't have to worry about school."

"Please don't!" You pipe up defensively. "I just want to brush this all under the rug and move on with my life. I'll be gone in a few months anyways and I'll never have to see him again."

"Alright," Sasha shrugs. "I'll do whatever you want me to do. However as a friend of Connie's and as a friend to you, I need him to know that he messed up and it's not okay."

The idea of him knowing that he hurt you feels sort of nice, so you give her permission to inform him of the mistake he's made.

Sasha drops you off and after an hour of eating food and watching an episode of your favorite show together, she leaves and you take a nice hot bath with your favorite epson salts and candle.

You stir the water with your left hand and read the novel in your right. It's been awhile since you've relaxed and read for pleasure and not just for school. It's not the best written story, but it helps you escape your current state of mind.

At least it was...

Connie: can we talk?

You stare at your phone which is resting dangerously on the side of the bathtub. He doesn't even start off with an apology?

Do you even want to talk to him? You'd like to voice your anger and hurt, but you don't want to listen to his excuses. You know his friends will always come first.

But maybe if you two talk then you can both go your separate ways. You should end this now before you truly develop feelings for him.

You: sure.

Within seconds he responds.

Connie: i'm outside the window to your bedroom

You double check the message to make sure you're not hallucinating and when you finally come to the realization that Connie is at your house, you open the drain to the tub to allow the water to wilt away and you fumble for your towel to dry off.