You can Bet on Me

Part 24 ~ Cold Interaction

Michael
I rolled – literally, rolled – out of bed. As I pulled myself together enough to get up, I caught sight of myself in the mirror, and it became instantly obvious that I... wasn't the best.
Deciding to go for a run, I threw on a jacket and some sweatpants. I considered to take my EarPods but decided against it as I dashed out the door. Right now, I just needed to run away. Escape. Do the one thing that always, without fail, managed to calm me down enough to think properly and function like a normal human being should. I jogged around the corner and I strangely found myself going in the direction of Maddison's house. Of course, I didn't expect to see her, as much as I wished to. And even if I did, she probably wouldn't want to see me. I knew I was wrong. I knew that this was my fault, and that she had every right to be mad with me. Maybe I was even a bit mad at myself, if not already downright furious at myself for hurting the one girl I loved.
As I came to the end of the curb and turned, I crashed into someone. I heard a thump and soon, I was also on the ground. I got to my feet and held out a hand to help up whoever I had crashed into as I mumbled, "sorry—"
I stopped short when I saw that it was... Maddison. Her eyes were warm and forgiving when they looked up to me, and for a heartbeat, I thought she had forgiven me, but when she realised it was me, her eyes changed. Her dazzling green eyes now were dark and angry and sad all at the same time, yet a look of longing flickered through her gaze as well.
"Why are you here?" she asked coldly. Her words would have hurt if I wasn't so sure that it was my fault. I deserved this for hurting her. I deserved her hatred. I deserved her to hate me even if I was head over heels in love with her.
"I was going on a run, same as you," I replied, referring to her clothes. Her wavy brown hair was pulled up in a messy bun and her clothes were casual yet sporty, and something that drew me in was her red-raw eyes. It struck me how someone so dishevelled and messy could be so beautiful. I swallowed my thoughts and dared to meet Maddison's eyes. As I expected, her eyes were filled with hatred and anger, but there was a flicker of hurt and sadness too.
"Whatever." Maddison turned to leave, but I found myself reaching after her and grabbing her wrist softly. She jolted under my touch and I felt a spark go through me, but I ignored it as she turned around to face me again. "What do you want? Haven't you hurt me enough?"
I swallowed. "And I'm sorry for that," I replied thickly.
"And 'sorry' doesn't magically fix everything," she hissed, letting more of her façade fall so that I could finally see the sadness behind her eyes. She quickly built her façade up again and it made me realise – she was hurting so much more than I thought, and it had been all my fault. Guilt bubbled up inside me as I watched the doubt flicker through her gaze. Inside her eyes, there was a tornado of emotions – anger, sadness, longing, frustration, exhaustion, pain. Her gaze dropped down to where I was still holding onto her wrist, and she yanked her arm away from me, and I let her arm go.
"I know, but I felt it needed to be said," I whispered. Her gaze shifted to look past me, as if I wasn't there.
"Then fine. You've said it. It doesn't change anything, though." Maddison turned away and as she walked off, I wanted then more than anything to reach out and run after her again, but I knew that I had blown it. I had already hurt her, and she seemed unready to forgive. But it made sense. It had been all my fault after all.
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"Hey, uh, can I ask you something?" I said, jogging to catch up to where Maddison's red-headed friend was at her locker. She looked up at me and her lips twisted in disgust as she realised who I was.
"What do you want?" she asked coldly, slamming her locker. "You've hurt Maddy already, so what? You coming to break the rest of us too?" I winced at her words. Maddison had probably told her about what had happened.
"No, I just wanted to ask – do you know if Maddison's at school today?" I asked, eager for the red-headed girl's answer. I carefully reminded myself to avoid using Maddison's nickname as I looked to the red-head for her response.
"And why do you care?" she asked as she began walking. I matched her pace to walk side-by-side with her and tried to persist.
"Please, just tell me." I had never been seen being so... desperate. But I was just that desperate. I really wanted – no, needed to – know.
The girl let out a huff and turned around. "Maddy was right – you're persistent and stubborn as heck. Well then, I'll just tell you one thing – she's not here today, so get lost." With that, she flicked her hair over her shoulder and walked off. I just stood there, processing.
Maddison was away today – but how? I had seen her in the morning, and besides her heartbroken (so her friend says) state, she seemed fine. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach that it was all my fault that she wasn't there. Had I really hurt her so badly that she no longer came to school? Did I have such an effect on her? My heart warmed at the thought, but then rapidly cooled down when I remembered why exactly she wasn't there.
I was frustrated. Frustrated at my stupidity, frustrated at not being able to just talk casually to Maddison like I used to, and frustrated about my frustration. I couldn't focus on anything. When the teacher asked me a question, my response was always, "huh?" and a questioning look. I got some helpful smiles and a little snickering from that, but nothing else mattered. Maddison was the only one thing that mattered; she was the only one I saw, and yet, she didn't see me.
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