The Sun and the Moon

Chapter One

dean_plus_cas

I calmly shook my head, the curls in my ponytail swaying and bouncing, at him. "And why would I do that?" I asked, shoving my third-year college math books into my sky blue backpack.

I saw him smile stupidly, the old smile I loved to see after one of my jokes. "Because!" He teased, in that gleeful voice I used to miss.

I rolled my eyes, zipping up my backpack. "Because I'm a good friend," he reasoned. I snapped my body in his direction, my right hand on my locker, making sure I didn't ball it into a fist, the other holding my backpack. "Was," I corrected him forcefully, turning back to my locker.

"Aw, come on!" He said, feigning hurt. I stood on my tippy toes, making sure I didn't miss anything possibly left on the top shelf. I started walking away, "But-"

"Go home Matt, I have to study. You should too." I said tiredly, "I'm not in the mood for this."

He started walking slowly, pulling on his backpack. "Cassie, really!" I ignored him, still walking away. He was catching up, damn his long legs. "Sch-"

"Don't."

I said it quietly, pausing in my tracks. We were the last ones in the hallways, no thanks to him, my sudden stop made his footsteps audible. I sighed. "Just stop."

His foot steps screeched on the tile, I could practically imagine his face scrunching up, and after a second, I actually heard a small laugh, one of disbelief. "Really?" He asked, distain and humor in his voice. "That's what bothers you in this entire situation? That I called you-"

"Stop!" I spun around, pointing a finger at his chest, and looking at him. "You do not have the right to call me that! Not anymore!" I took a couple steps toward him as he took one back. "You left! You just left me there, didn't even speak to me afterwards either!" My voice rose, "I tried, you know I did! You could've still tried, and you didn't! You just-"

"I didn't have time! You know that!" His eyes brimmed with tears, trying to make me feel guilty, but I would not.

"You could've made time!" I screeched, shrill and angry. "You could've cared." I could feel someone looking at us from behind the doorway, probably a lingering teacher. "But you didn't!"

Tears slowly went down my face as I blinked. But I wasn't really crying, not anymore.

He took a step forward, and I took a small one back. I would not let him touch me. I would not let him pity me. I was angry, and even though it was a second emotion, I was not upset anymore. I looked him in the eyes, taking a step forward as his hand descended to his side again, "and as for your offer." I shoved him hard, "you can shove it up your ass."

I turned, hurriedly pushing past the doors, the best exit I had right now, to finish this conversation whether he wanted to or not. But he'd snapped out of it after a second, and as I was sliding into my truck's driver's seat, he stepped behind the trunk. I turned the truck on, rolling down the window. "Matthew! Get the fuck out of the way!" He yelled something back and I couldn't understand him, coughing from the exhaust. If only I could live with myself if I had actually killed the bastard. I opened up the door, walking around the side to face him. "Get the hell out of my way or I swear to god I will run you over!" He didn't move.

"What the hell is your problem? You got what you wanted. You're-"

"I'm sorry." He looked at me, really looked at me, all five foot one. I almost laughed, "yeah?" I said, getting even more agitated. "Well," My attitude faultered. No, I will not be sad about this. I walked back to the cab of the car, taking the keys out. "Too bad." I said, pushing past him. "Will you just wait?" He stopped walking, but my feet still slapped at the pavement. "Stop," He demanded of me. "No," I deadpanned.

I could see his friends watching us, by the car he'd gotten for his fifteenth birthday, nice black-blue Toyota truck.

It was his dad's old vehicle, he'd would've gotten it for his fourteenth, if he hadn't ended up failing his test the first twelve times they'd gone since he was eligible. So they held off giving him the Toyota until he passed his school/work permit driver's test our state allows, which you can take on your fifteenth birthday.

I was blocks from the school, closer to my house now, when I heard him say something. "Yeah, just take it to my house, but scratch it and you're all dead." A pause. "I'll wait for you there. Yeah, thanks." He hung up, grumbling, knowing someone other than him was driving his truck.

He sped up, just as I was turning onto the sidewalk in front of the porch steps. So close. "Please!" He put his hands on my shoulders, making me almost flinch away from his touch. "Do you not feel anything anymore?" I look dead into his eyes, softening a little.

I can see the pleading in his eyes, they're panicked and pained, expecting me to contrast with something meaningful, that I didn't try to forget it all. And I can't, because I really did.

I tried to forget it, and he can tell, I know he can see it in my eyes. He's seen it before, when I told him about my past. And now I regret telling him, because if I hadn't, he wouldn't be able to read me so well. Wouldn't know I was in pain. But at the same time, I'm glad he could see it, cause he knows he's the one causing it this time.

"I'm sorry," He pleads again, strained voice because it hurts him just as much as it hurts me.

"I am too." I whisper harshly, pushing past powerfully, to keep me from crumbling, falling to my knees and crying, right then and there. His touch was too much, I wanted to melt into it and just forgive. Even though to look back and just run to him would be so easy, I can't. I will myself not to turn back around, going up the steps, and opening and slamming the door again.

I leave, the boy who used to be the sun still there, standing on the sidewalk stunned, and most definitely waiting.

He's waiting for the girl who was, and still is, the moon, who would never go back out there, as long as he's standing on the property.