Wonderland

❄B39❄ Just Great

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Brayden's POV

Just Great

December 4

"I haven't seen you with Heather in a while," Berkeley said one day, when we were doing homework in a private study room. "You guys fell out or something?"

"No. She's just mad at me," I mumbled, scribbling something down into my journal.

"Oh, that's too bad," she said. Was it just me, or did she sound overly sarcastic and insincere? It sounded like she was rather happy Heather and I weren't talking anymore.

If I'm going to be honest, I've been feeling completely miserable these past few days. Heather hasn't talked to me in almost a week, and I desperately wanted to know how well she was doing. I missed her so much, but I was afraid to approach her.

I feared that her mental and physical state of being was deteriorating. I saw her yesterday on my way to the bathroom, and she looked paler than normal. Her brown hair no longer had a lustrous shine to it, and there were dark circles under her eyes. She walked with her back slightly hunched, and her feet dragging across the floor.

I hated myself for not approaching her then. I should've went up to her and asked if everything was all right, but I wimped out.

But I'm going to see her today no matter what, I thought, determinedly. I need to see her.

"So Valerie won't be in my room today..." Berkeley started. I could hear the suggestive tone in her voice. She wanted me over tonight.

"I can't," I said, irritably. "I have to do something."

"Is this about your 'homework' again?" she demanded, making air quotations around the word. She didn't sound too pleased.

"No, something else," I said, nonchalantly. "We've been spending time together almost everyday; can't I get some time alone?"

"You're going to see Heather, aren't you? Have you been using these bullshit 'homework' excuses to go see her without telling me?"

"No!" I exclaimed. "For crying out loud, Berkeley! You and your fucking insecurities! Just because I need some time alone, it doesn't mean I'm seeing someone behind your back!" I suddenly recalled the time when Heather had told me about Berkeley being so mean to her. Before I knew it, I found myself asking her, "Have you approached Heather lately?"

Berkeley scoffed. "Why would I approach her, of all people?" she said, disdainfully.

"Maybe because of the fact that Heather seems to dislike you. Of the years I've known her she rarely hates on anyone. Judging from how bitchy you can be at times, I wouldn't be surprised if you verbally attacked her!" I snapped.

Berkeley looked visibly affronted by my accusation. "You'd really think I'd do something like that?" she said, infuriatingly.

"I don't know, you tell me."

"Why would you jump to such a conclusion?" Before I could come up with a response, she gasped. "Oh my god, you guys hooked up during Thanksgiving, didn't you?"

"What?! NO!" I said, astonished she'd even jump to that conclusion. "Heather had nowhere to go for Thanksgiving, and she's my best friend. I invited her to my house—with my other family members--so that she wouldn't have to spend her time alone here. What did you expect me to do? Leave her here?"

She glared at me, and I noticed her left hand was clenched into a fist. "I don't give two shits about that. I care more about the fact that you invited her over to your house for Thanksgiving without telling me."

I started gathering my stuff, sick of her attitude. "You know what, Berkeley? Your insolence can piss me off sometimes."

"The funny thing is, I feel the same way, too! And to think you were sweet and caring—you're completely the opposite! If you think I'm going to run back to you after all these monthly fights, then you're damn wrong because I am done with you!" Pushing back tears in her eyes, she shoved her binder and textbook into her bag.

"Good, see if I care!" I shouted, not even caring if the entire library heard me. "You're nothing but a pathetically insecure bitch who thinks she runs everything," I added, my words tumbling out like a mudslide. "I regret ever asking you out."

"Screw you, Brayden!" she burst, tears starting to spill from her face. "I hate you."

"Yeah, I kind of got that long ago," I retorted. "The feeling's mutual."

Giving me one last hateful look, she slammed the door shut after her and left. When it was just me in the study room, I frustratingly threw my stuff onto the ground and sat down. I grasped my hair with my hands, sucking in a deep breath.

What is wrong with me?

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I just finished finished with finals. Ugh, I hated it. Now comes the stage where I just worry nonstop about my grades. I hate how much I worry over things. :(

Anyway, sorry for the short chapter, but I thought putting something out there would be better than nothing at all. I hope you guys enjoy it. See you next time! :)