Leaving The Friendzone

Chapter 12: Decisions, decisions

POINT OF VIEW: Ella O'Connor

"Ella, are you alright?" My dad asks for the second time tonight. I drag my suitcase lazily behind me, facing straight ahead. I keep replaying his words over and over in my head, trying to find some sense in them.

"--I know how long you've waited to meet him. To finally have the father that you've dreamt about to come back to you, and... and take you home so you can live together and play happily ever after."

I silently recall the hurt in his eyes after he said those words. The way he just shook his head and ran away. It'd taken all of my willpower not to run after him and apologize. To promise to never leave, and sit there laughing up in his room as we both pigged out on pepperoni pizza.

But unfortunately, I had other things that had to be dealt with before I made nice with my best-friend.

"Ella?" My dad appears in front of my face, waving his hand side to side. I raise my eyebrows and blink a few times.

"What's wrong? I've asked you three times if you're okay, but you're in this ghost-like trance." His eyes cloud with worry.

"N-nothing. I'm fine, just tired." I lie pathetically.

He furrows his eyebrows together, but turns and walks away all the same.

How have I managed to make everyone around here upset?

I follow my dad to the back of his car, where he's already put my school bag into it. He holds out his arms for the next one, and I hand it to him in silence, before walking away to take up a spot in the passenger's seat.

He gets in beside me, putting the key in the ignition as I place my elbow against the window frame, holding my chin in my hand.

I have this nagging voice in my head, mocking me.

It's not that big of a deal. It's only a fight.

But it is. Not only is it just a fight, it was our first fight. In 13 years. I'm not even sure who I'm more upset with. Myself, or Cory.

I don't know what drove me to decide to stay the night with my dad... I mean, we only met about an hour ago, and now I have this uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, worried that I've managed to organize sleeping arrangements with a total stranger.

But, what else could I do? Stay back at the Kensington's place and stay by myself until one of us decides to apologize?

You're overreacting. Overthinking things. I was completely aware of the fact, yet I couldn't bring myself to think straight.

Maybe it's a hormonal thing...

Whatever the reason, I was sure of one thing. Cory and I needed to talk.

But how? When?

The only inconvenience in having a damn near perfect relationship with my best friend, is the fact that I have absolutely no idea how to go about making up with him.