Close The Door

Chapter 18- Subliminal Messages

I grit my teeth, as the others look at each other, unsure of how to deal with what's yet to come. Kiawe stands inches away from me, fire in his eyes as well. Lana tried relaxing him by grabbing his arm, but he wouldn't budge. Chloe comes next to me and drags me away. As much as I don't want to walk away from this, it's the best thing that could happen.

I can hear him huffing in the background, but I chose to ignore him. With Chloe's arm around me, it puts me in a situation where I can't defend myself, but I'm secretly grateful, because all of the stories Ash had told me were enough to convince me to stay away from him, especially since he's furious for who-knows-what.

Chloe and I walk back outside, heading to her place. The air is much colder than it was earlier, probably because I was running earlier and I had more than enough time to warm up. Once we're halfway there, my phone vibrates. Before I could answer, Chloe opens her bag, and hands me something.

"Eat this," she demands, handing me a stick of chocolate. I refuse initially, but Chloe isn't really one to give up, especially when she knows it's me. So I cave, grabbing the stick and taking a bite out of it. It's milk chocolate, with some caramel in the middle, and I think a hint of nougat. Regardless, its sweetness contrasts her sometimes-bitter personality, but I know she's secretly sweet inside. I pull my phone out, and read the message that Ash sent earlier.

-— That seemed... horrible...

Horrible? Just horrible? It was excruciatingly horrible at that.—-

-—Exaggerating a bit, aren't we?

I am not exaggerating. I legitimately thought that I was gonna die, but not because of my true identity, but rather just cause of the last interaction we had. I can admit, I was kind of an ass, but no one was thinking rationally at the time, so why is his rage only directed at me?

There was a girl up ahead with fliers in her arms. She's wearing a red jacket, with a black shirt underneath and red skirt accompanied by black leggings to help with the wind. Her hair was blonde. 'Wait a second, I remember her...'

"Hi, would you two be interested in attending the homecoming dance next Friday night?" She asked. Homecoming was already nearing? "We're not entirely sure yet, but we can take a flier if you don't mind," Chloe says. The girl pulls out two sheets of paper and hands them to the both of us. We thank her before heading on our way back. 

We arrive at her dorm building, but I decided that it would be best if I were alone for a bit, so we part ways here. When I was walking back, the girl was gone; the thoughts lingered. I think about going to the dance with Chloe, because I necessarily haven't been the bestest friend to her in a while. Plus, as much as she loves dancing, I think she would appreciate the gesture. I send her a message, hoping she accepts.

Bet you'd want to give it a shot going together?—-

-—Look, as much as I would like to, I don't think it would be a good idea.

Understandable. I'll let you think about it. Let me know when you make a decision.—-

-—Eventually, I'll make it. But for now, hard pass.

The words sting, but I truly respect her wishes. There's an itch in my brain that knows how to get rid of itself, but I'm not so sure that I would want to scratch it. I'm curious to see what my boyfriend would look like at a dance, even though last time doesn't really count cause I didn't focus much on it. As I pull my phone out, the internal debate becomes a nuisance, as I type what I want to say, and quickly erase it because it's too straightforward. If I wanted to ask a question like this, I would have to test the waters a bit. Confident in what I've written, I send it. I feel like this is the most I've texted in years.