The Golden Apple

Sixteen - Jake

I hung my head. Magnolia sat on her bed; her face buried directly in her pillow.

I knew it wasn't just Oriel's opinions that got to her. She seemed to distance herself from me as well, always sitting across from me instead of near me. Her eyes never met mine once.

She usually goes to me when she is hurt about something. Instead, she is avoiding me. She is acting like I did something to hurt her this time. I know I haven't done anything, but I still had this pain in my chest. The fact that I am oblivious to why she is acting this way is making me scared.

I sighed. How am I supposed to handle this now?

The silence of the room was eerie without her speaking. All I could hear was the faint sound of footsteps and some muffled chatter from above upstairs.

I briefly glanced back at her from across. Is she crying? Is she angry? I couldn't tell. She's usually the one to communicate more than me.

"Maggie?" I asked her quietly, tapping her shoulder gently.

No response.

She sat up from the pillow and opened her drawer, not once returning my gaze. She seemed to be looking for one of her books, so she could have an excuse not to talk to me.

I blinked. She was speaking to me fine earlier today, I thought. Something is clearly wrong.

"Magnolia why aren't you talking to me?" I pressed on.

And still, nothing.

This suddenly seemed all too familiar. I did the same to her when I first met her, unsure of how to communicate. However, a lot has changed in four months time. This silence is more sudden, and no reason for it exists at all.

I put my hand on her shoulder. "Magnolia -"

"Don't touch me!" she snapped angrily. She turned the other direction, a sour look growing on her face.

My head swirled with confusion. What did I do? Did I do anything to offend her? Is she just frustrated about Oriel and wants to be alone?

"Please talk to me," I spoke. "I've been sitting here for ten minutes watching you hide your face in a pillow! At least tell me why you're refusing to talk about it."

Magnolia spun around to face me. I saw that the sour look on her face had disappeared. It was replaced with a look of pleading sorrow; her brown eyes wide and shiny. She looked close to tears. Her hair was loose and frazzled. She had lowered her gaze to the floor, refusing to look me in the eye.

I bit my lip. She's not angry. She's just hurt.

"Perhaps you should sit down?" I ask her. "I know I always tell you that when you're like this, but I think sitting helps calm you down."

She glared at me briefly before backing up into the window seat. I expected her to retaliate like she usually would, but she seemed more cooperative this time. I placed myself next to her while she fiddled with her hair.

"Tell me what's wrong," I told her as calmly as I could. She continued to stare at the floor, but it didn't bother me so much. Getting her to sit calmly with me was good enough.

"Well," she finally murmured. "I'm concerned."

My stomach dropped. "About what?"

She paused, burying her face in her hands again. I scooted closer to her side.

"I know this is going to sound extremely idiotic," she started. "But would you ever...well...turn on me?"

I raised an eyebrow. "What?"