Red

Façade (4)

Days passed in a blur, and my time was spent split between Megan's apartment and work. I had made a fool of myself at the poetry reading, and I didn't want to tarnish my social standing any more than I already had. Not that I really had any social standing to begin with. Being invisible to most people was a good thing for once.

I shoved a spoonful of ice cream into my mouth, and stared at the TV. It was a reality show - which was something I usually wasn't interested in. But the trivial problems of the actors was a distraction to my self-destructive thoughts.

I couldn't be mad at Megan for what she did, even though I wanted to. I knew she was trying to help me; she had always pushed me to do what she thought would be helpful. It was never anything she wouldn't do herself, but she was a lot braver than I was. She was an unstoppable force like a hurricane, and I was, well, me.

I shouldn't have went to the poetry reading in the first place. If I was smart, I would've stayed at Megan's apartment, changed into some sweatpants, and binged on sappy romantic comedies on Netflix. Maybe penned a new poem or two.

That was what was on my agenda for the foreseeable future; it's impossible to embarrass yourself when you don't do anything but work. I wouldn't be going home either, or at least I wouldn't be going home when my dad was there. He most likely was still angry about the other day, and it would be even worse because I had left again.

The sound of jiggling keys and the click of the door unlocking accompanied Megan as she came through the door, juggling her textbooks in her arms. She sat the books on the coffee table. "I can't believe you're still in your pajamas. I left you like this at 8 am!" She said, and flopped down on the couch next to me.

I shrugged, and scooped another bite of ice cream into my mouth. It didn't matter whether I had on pajamas or blue jeans, I still wasn't going to leave the apartment unless I was forced to. "Well, hello to you too."

She rolled her eyes, and swiped the spoon from me, digging it into the ice cream. She took a bite. "Please tell me you haven't eaten this whole thing," she said, referring the almost empty container of ice cream in my lap.

I shrugged, and trained my eyes back on the television. "Maybe I have."

"That's it!" She exclaimed. She grabbed the container of ice cream, and pushed herself off of the couch. She dropped the ice cream into the trashcan.

"Hey! That was mine."

"And now it's not. You seriously need to get a grip, Savannah. You can't just live life like this."

I huffed. That was easy for her to say; her life was perfect. "I can live however I want to."

"Really? And how's that working out for you?"

I stood up, and yanked my purse off of the table. "Can you just shut the hell up?" I asked, and stormed out of her apartment.

The wind whipped my hair around my face as I walked down the sidewalk, and I crossed my arms over my chest. I should've grabbed a jacket before I stormed out, but I didn't want to be around her any longer. Megan was living in a fantasy world. She was like a princess in her ivory tower, not realizing that other people didn't have a life like she did. Some of us had to fight for everything we had.

I pushed the door open of a coffee shop, and stepped inside. The bell rung as the door close. Warmth and the smell of freshly brewed coffee enveloped me. The shop was empty except for a man reading a newspaper in the corner. It was a relief; I needed time to think.

I perched on a barstool at the counter, intertwining my hands in front of me. I didn't know what to do about Megan. She was the only friend I had, but she wasn't making it any easier for me.