Welcome to Deadwood

Chapter Eight

   I could see her dark head of hair through the crowds of people trying to get out of the school building, pushed back with an ornate headband which seemed to sparkle beneath the electric lights. Shouting her name, I pushed past my classmates, desperate to speak to her before the end of the day. My sneakers slipped on the linoleum floor and I had to struggle to keep my balance. 

   “Amaya!” I tried again but she didn’t seem to hear me, either that or she was ignoring me. I groaned and continued to jog down the corridor until she was within arms reach, stretching out and grabbing hold of her shoulder. She immediately flinched and pulled away, spinning round with ferrel eyes. 

   “I don’t want to talk to you,” Amaya glared, turning around and continuing to walk. 

   “Well, I want to talk to you,” I disputed, hurrying after her, trying to keep in step. “Look, please, slow down.” 

   “I just want to go home, stop talking.” 

   “Why are you so annoyed at me? You’ve been avoiding me all day,” I tried to block her path but she veered to the right, taking an alternate route to the surrounding forest, to the footpath which lead to her house. 

    “Oh, so it was clear that I was avoiding you, I’m glad, only an idiot would fail to understand that,” Amaya let her dark curls cover her face, shielding her eyes and clouding her vision. I both hated and adored that sharp tongue. 

   “Look, just tell me what I did wrong and then I’ll leave you alone,” I reasoned, following her into the dense vegetation, holding branches out of her way. 

   “You promise?” 

   “No.” 

   “Just stop following me!” She yelled, running a few feet ahead, trying to put some distance between us. 

   “Amaya! Just tell me what the fuck I did wrong!” I cried out, stopping in the woods, my feet pressed into the damp earth. She turned around, her hair flying out around her, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. 

   “You know too much about me and I don’t like it,” she said candidly. “I don’t like the fact you’ve been to my house and seen my things and met my aunt and know that my parents are dead.” 

   “Why should all of that matter? I thought you would be relieved, that you have someone who understands you, who knows what you have been through.” 

   “Well, I’m not relieved, I’m terrified, that everyone will find out and then it will be like it has been at all the other schools I’ve been to.” 

   “This is stupid, I care about you,” I spoke, trying to be convincing, taking a few steps forward and frowning as Amaya took a few back. “I care about you and none of what I know matters, not your past or your future, just the fact that you are beautiful and intelligent and that you make me laugh.” 

   “You can’t talk your way out of this, I don’t want to be your friend, I don’t want to be your anything, just leave me alone to get on with my life like I always have, by myself.” 

   “I’m not leaving you here, you need somebody to talk to.” 

   “I don’t need anything from you.” 

   “Stop being so angry!” I shouted. “I’m not going to tell anyone, I just, I just want it to be how it has been. Didn’t you think Friday was the nicest day y’all ever had?” 

   “I’m not talking to you.” 

   “Friday, with the books and the sunshine through the trees.”