Guilt

Chapter 2

Recap:

My stomach grumbled. Boy, was I hungry.

Eventually, Trent came back with my muffin and iced tea, while he just had a coffee.

"So... I've been wondering Chelsea. Is this like, just hanging out? Or is it a date?"

*gulp*

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"Errr... whatever you want it to be..." I said, tracing a coffee stain on the table with my finger. I couldn't really meet his eyes.

"What do you want it to be?"

He blinked like he hadn't even thought about it.

"Well Chelsea. I've always likes you... you're smart, beautiful, funny, and I was hoping that today wasn't just a f-friend thing..."

Wow! Even he was blushing at this point, but I can't talk. I looked like I was a tomato that had gone down with a fever. My face was redder than ever.

"Y-yer. Me to."

We ate in awkward silence until I took a bite of my muffin and recoiled in disgust. "This taste like... ham!?"

Trent burst out laughing when I said that. I gulped down some of my iced tea and shook my head.

"Ugh!"

"You alright?"

"Yeah, just... surprised." I smiled, then burst out laughing with him.

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We walked down the road, deciding to cut through the park and back to my house. He held my hand and I, well, you know... died!

"La la dum dum dum dum...." I sort of half sung, half hummed the tune to fireflies.

Trent smiled. It was about six at night, but the sun was still up.

"Chelsea... there's something I want to tell you..."

"What is it?" He seemed embarrassed.

"Well... I'll tell you when we get across the road." He said as we stopped at the pavement close to the road. I looked both ways, and then we both walked.

Not quickly, not slowly. I can remember the gentle thud of our feet on the ground, a smile planted on my face that soon turned into a frown.

The sound of the car, speeding towards us, headlights shining right on Trent... the one who let my hand go... and jumped in front of me, so.... so.... so I could escape the hit.

I ran over to him, seeing gore I've only ever seen in the movies. A pool of blood, Trent's closed eyes.

The driver pulled out the car, a girl in her early twenties, and she ran over to help.

"FUCK OFF!" I yelled, and punched her right in the face.

I felt weak... like the world was spinning, and I dropped into a heaped bundle on the floor, where everything went black, and there was an endless set of questions in my mind, floating around, the biggest one being:

What was he going to tell me?

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Hey guys!

I know, short chappy!

Well... you know

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:)