Forgotten

Chapter 8 ~ Battles

Harry hadn't been at school all week. I hadn't seen him since we parted ways after the disgusting turn of events where Leyla had destroyed our night. The only contact I had with him was through text messages, but it wasn't the same. Harry's text had become emotionless, distant. He no longer participated in the <3 v. <33 debates we always had, and it took him even longer to reply to my texts, even if I replied immediately to his. I tried asking him about it, but he shut down my questions with one of the coldest texts he has ever sent me:

I'm going through shit right now. Sorry.

That was it, and he never responded to my questions after that. It was heartbreaking and it infuriated me; I had every right to leave him because of his new, eternal tie to Leyla, so it surprised and hurt me that he was the one who seemed to be leaving. I didn't understand it, and so I cried myself to sleep every night that week.

On Wednesday, I started discussing what was going on with my friends (I was more comfortable using that term to describe them now that we'd known each other for a few months). I told them about Leyla's news and Harry's lack of communication with me, and they were all lovely and understanding and supportive and just really great about the whole situation.

Except Ri. She turned into full bitch mode, which surprised me not one bit.

"I told you he was no good. You didn't listen to me!"

"Ri!" Olga scolded, rubbing her hand comfortingly along my arm, hugging me.

"This was different," I told Ri. "He didn't cheat on me. He just knocked up his previous girlfriend."

"But I did warn you," Ri amended.

Hannah spoke up next. "It doesn't matter who's right and who's wrong. We're Mia's friends, and she needs our support."

Ri sighed, but seemed to accept this truth, as did I.

"How about we have a barn night this weekend?" Olga suggested. "They always cheer us up when we're down. Maybe they can cheer you up too."

I smiled faintly. "I'd like that."

"Ri?" Olga asked. The barn nights were hosted in Ri's barn. We needed her approval for them to go ahead.

"I'll ask my parents," Ri eventually conceded, and I heard the friendly smile in her answer.

            *           *           *

Thursday's English class required each of us to present a piece of literature (or the like) to the class. This piece of literature was to relate to each of us on an individual and personal level. I had chosen a heart-felt and passionate letter of Charlie's from The Perks of Being a Wallflower, but after the revelation that Leyla was pregnant with Harry's baby on the weekend, along with Harry's coldness, it no longer seemed fitting. And though I tried to stick with that passage, words from Macbeth kept entering my mind, eager to be heard.

I took my turn after Dover, as we sat side by side and the presentations had gone around the room according to the seating arrangement. I stood and held the piece of paper with my hurried handwriting on it, and announced to the class at large:

"Back at my old school, we were taught a lot of classic literature. I became a huge fan of Shakespeare, and I know just about every one of his plays back to front. I'd like to say the same for his sonnets, but I'm still working on them. So today I'm going to read and excerpt from Macbeth, Act V, Scene V. This passage just means quite a lot to me at the moment... so here goes.

"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing."