Glass Half Full

CHAPTER SIX

I sit in my room, bored out of my mind.

It's been an hour or so since I've talked to Whiskey.

Since I left the pool, I've changed my clothing into something more comfortable. I'm a little dumbfounded as to what I should do on this island. I expected Miles to show me around, but he doesn't seem to be picking up my calls. He's most likely working hard at the launch for Klear.

I know what Klear America is going to do; Lionel had called me when he found out. Regardless, it's not like any of us have a choice. Miles has us wrapped around his rich finger and there's no out.

I flop onto my surprisingly stiff mattress. With a sigh, I glance over to my bag I had brought to the pool with me and decide to empty it.

I get back up and pour out the contents onto my bed. I shake it a bit harder when not everything I put in there falls out. I open it up, peer inside, then shake it more violently.

"Where did I put it..." I ask myself.

I must've left it on the coffee table in the pavilion when I stormed out. Deciding now is a good time as ever to practice my lines without any interruptions, I grab my sunglasses that had fallen out of my purse, and walk to the front door, determined to find my script.

I don't get two steps out before I'm met with the face of Andi.

"Oh, hello." I step back in shock, not expecting to see anybody—especially her.

"Daphne. I wanted to apologize to you. What I said came from a place of hurt, and I didn't mean it. I'm sorry."

Her apology surprised me. Usually, Andi would have never said the thing she said in the first place, but to come apologize so soon? The trial must've really shook her up.

"Thank you, Andi. That really means a lot to me. I should not have blown up like that at you." I open the door wider and invite her in.

"Would you like to come in? I'm pretty bored here all by myself." I chuckle and thankfully she laughs a little along with me.

"Oh ignore the mess, just realized I'm missing my script." I brush all the things to the side of the bed, so we can both sit down.

"You mean this script?" She reaches into her obnoxiously large bag and brings out the Birds of a Feather script.

"That's it! How did you know I was missing it?" I take it from her and examine the cover, to make sure it really was in my possession again.

"After we had fought, I saw it in the pavilion and decided this would be a good way to apologize." She shrugs her shoulders and I send her a grateful smile.

"Was that the only reason you came here? To apologize?" I set the wad of paper down and look into her eyes, like I've done many times when I went over to her house for help. They seem to look different now. Its been so long since I've talked to her.

Since I wasn't there when the Alpha Napkin was made, I wasn't required to be in court, and lie to her face. I know I would've if Miles asked me to. I would've had to. I was elated to know that I wasn't required for any part of the painful process. I wanted to stay blissfully unaware.

"What did you mean by when you said we talked all the time? When you went to me for help?" As she talks, I start to see Cassandra slip away a little; her muscles relax, her hands stop gripping the strap of her bag so hard, and her posture deflates just the slightest bit. When I went to Andi for help, I loved seeing her transform from Cassandra to Andi. It was like she wore a mask for everyone else in the world, but me.

Andi was the mother I never had, but knew I deserved.

"What do you mean—like what did we talk about?" Could she have forgotten our friendship just like that? Is this her insulting me?

"I'm trying to say that I didn't know that our... talks meant that much to you. I didn't know that An—I meant that much to you."

I let my eye contact break and start staring down at the bed comforter we're sitting on. I trace a finger around the designs, determined to stall my reply. I let the silence go on for a few more beats before lifting my head briefly to see if she was sill looking at me.

She wasn't looking at me like she used to. She used to have so much love in her gaze, now she just looks determined, confused, and curious. Maybe she thought I was mad at her—or, or maybe she mad at me, for never reaching out after the trial.

She knows the choices I was given, right? She knows who holds the cards to my fate.

"I want you to know that I would have gone to trial for you, if I could, right? You know that I couldn't, right? Right, Andi?" I suddenly look up and exclaim.

I take her by the hands and make her look into my eyes—really look into my eyes and see that I'm telling the truth.

She wordlessly nods and lets me keep holding her, just listening like he used to.

"If—if I did go to trial and speak on your behalf, what was my story against five other adults? They were all there when you wrote down Alpha, I was still a child. And even if we had proof, what then? Who would protect us after the trials from Miles? I would get no jobs, no money, I'd probably be homeless by now! And you would get Alpha, but what about the press? No one would side with you after you so badly humiliated Miles in front of the world." At this point, I'm balling my eyes out, but I don't care. I never did with Andi.

I could never care with Andi. She was my friend. She cared about me.

"And I could never do that to you, Andi. I could never! So you have to understand; I did it to protect us both. Maybe we can't be like it used to, but at least it's not worse."

She looks at me, tears streaming down my face, and my hands gripping hers with the most force my shaking body can offer. She just looks at me. She doesn't grow emotional like she used to, she doesn't comfort me right away like she used to. She just sits there, with her serious upside down smile and tears lining her eyes.

Not a single tear falls. She keeps her face stoic and her hands placed in mine—though I'm not sure if that's a choice or that she can't get them out.

She's been quiet, let me get my emotions out. I've grown quiet too.

My head hangs low and sniffles are the only things that are heard.

"You do understand, don't you?" I don't bring my head up, but she squeezes my now limp hands.

"Andi, please say something." This time I look up, and her cheeks are wet, but no other evidence is there from her tears.

"I... understand, Daph. I understand completely." She lets go of my hands and brings me in for a hug.

I hug back, glad she doesn't hate me.

She smells strongly of kombucha, but I don't let go.

She doesn't hate me.

Andi doesn't hate me.