The Sun and the Moon

Chapter Two

I could still feel her shoulder's touch from where she had pushed past me. The house behind me rattled, the anger from the moon girl evident. No matter how many tears spilled, mine or her's; no matter how many times I apologized, and will apologize, it wouldn't ever be enough for forgiveness. And I knew it.

* * *

Sophomore year, captain of the football team's house, Monday after Homecoming, September.

I stumbled up the stairs, trying to find Cassandra. I giggled to myself, her name is so weird. I like her nickname. "Luna," I stretched out the 'ew' sound in her middle name, opening up a door. "Oops!" I yelled, slamming the door shut. I heard someone in another room, shouting as if they were angry. Maybe she's in there, I thought to myself. I opened up the door, seeing a male about four inches shorter than me trying to kiss Cassie.

"Hey!" He jumped back from her, and I walked up angrily, shoving him, "Get away from her! She's mine!" I stuck a finger at him, "Sorry, she didn't say anything about being with someone, man, I swear!" I rolled my eyes, disbelief obvious through the action directed at his words.

"Yeah, just get out!"

He quickly walked out, clearly peeved I didn't let him kiss her, leaving the tiny bathroom door open. I walked towards her, but she didn't hug me back, the first time in seven years. "Are you drunk?" She asked, putting her tiny hands on my chest, softly pushing herself away from me. "No," I said incredulously, "just buzzed maybe. I only had like three drinks."

She started walking out of the bathroom, it took me a second or two to realize, and when I spotted her again she was almost to the door. "Wait!" I held out a hand, as if I could actually use stretching power, like Reed Richards from Fantastic Four, to pull her back towards me. I instead used the hand to move people out of the way. Thank god for that growth spurt, or I would've never been able to see her! I sighed to myself.

"Schmetterling, where are you going?" I asked her, calling her by the nickname she was given by me in a seventh grade German class we signed up for together. "What's wrong?"

She whipped around and faced me, the cold air making her cheeks tinged pale pink, almost matching the naturally dark lips she had. Damn she's beautiful, I thought, feeling my face heat up. "You!" She exclaimed, "You just came in there, violent as ever! And you just picked me, claimed me as one of your little play things! I know your a football player now, but you can't just do that! Say you want something and have it! You're my best friend, my first kiss too, you're supposed to respect me! Just because you took me out once, does not mean that we're together! And just because you're drunk does not make this okay!" She screeched a miscellaneous sound, making sure I could hear her over the music that was blaring inside the house.

"You promised!" Tears ran down her face, "You told me you wouldn't drink tonight! That you wouldn't drink as long as you knew me, would wait until you were legally able to! Look what happened!"

My head hung and the guilt she was implying I was supposed to feel, I did. "But I'm not him!" I stepped closer and my voice dropped, I clutched her wrists. "Ow," She winced, "You're hurting my wrists."

I dropped her wrists, "I didn't mean to!" I said as she walked away. "That's not fair!" She shook her head. "I know it's not." She continued walking, "call me when you're not drunk, okay?" I nodded even though she couldn't see me. "I love you!" I called after her desperately angry for an answer back. I heard something, but it wasn't the same words back.

"I love you." I whispered, tears dropping down my face. I staid there even after her sandy hair faded down the sidewalk and into the darkness.

* * *

The whole time I was scrimmaging I couldn't help but think of Cassie and the night it went wrong. I felt bad, I was taking over as captain this year, finally a junior, and a distracted caption was not what the freshman needed right now. I was definitely not the good example right now.

Coach Fuller pulled me aside after the practice. "Are you okay? I can get another Captain if it's too much for you right now." I shook my head, "No coach I'm fine." He gave me a look, "Really, I've just got a lot on my mind today, I'll be over by the time I we run through them next practice." He nodded and dismissed me into the locker rooms.

I arrived home, hair still wet from the showers, and set my practice bag on the stairs.

I went into the kitchen and grabbed a plate, and stuck my hand in the fridge randomly selecting a Gatorade. "Where's Jackson?" I asked, eyebrows furrowing at the lack of excitement of me getting home. Jackson is a black German Shepherd, our family's dog, since I'm the only child still at home, and often it was that way, I'd gotten a dog in fifth grade. He was also friends with Lucky, a brown retriever from the end of the street, who belonged to a black-curly-haired girl two years younger than me, named Logan. Along with Mark, Cassie and Kaitlyn's yellow lab, which Kaitlyn had been promised to get sometime before she tweleve, but only if she proved first she was responsible by the age of eleven. Occasionally the two girls would get the three dogs and hang out at the closed golf course, since the only gates it had were in the parking lot, and an open range in one spot for about a square mile, excluding holes and flags for the putting.

"He's out with Logan and Kaitlyn. They took him to the course, since it's closed, along with the other two. Something about soccer." She shrugged, and I shook my head, "You do know I used to walk him all the time right?" She laughed, tipping over the short and fat plastic cylinder. "Yeah, that was before practice."

My mom handed me the white bowl of pasta, the black pasta ladle sticking out of the top. I smelled the noodle aroma, wafting up towards my nose, "Is this grinders?"

"Your's never smell this good!" I smiled goofily, getting a glare shot at me. My dad clutched his chest, finally sitting down with the silverware and napkins in the other hand, "Ouch!" He fake cried. I laughed at him, and my mom continued the conversation, setting the garlic bread down.

"Yeah, I'm surprised you remembered." She took a paper napkin and folded it on her lap, then took another setting it next to her plate. "Why wouldn't I?" My eyebrows furrowed as she shrugged, thinking about it for a second.

"We used to have it all the time," I explained, knowing she shouldn't have thought the foodie of the house would really forget what some food smells like. "I know, I know!" I scoop some of the pasta into my bowl, and pass the rest to my dad. "But," she countered, "we haven't had it in a year, ever since-"

I stood up, my chair scraping the floor, I looked around the wooden table for an excuse. "I'm, uh.." I looked at my plate of pasta. "Not hungry," I decided, looking at my dad and sounding not too sure. I avoided eye contact with my mom, trying to leave the room without being excused.

My dad blocked me, halting my steps. I may be a football player, but I wouldn't purposely tackle my dad in our kitchen, especially when we were supposed to be having a nice dinner, homemade or not.

The thought of her being home alone made me want to throw up. She's there too much, I thought to myself. I can't stand the idea. Maybe I can make an excuse to leave so I don't have to think about it. Maybe I can go do homework.

But at the same time, I knew they wouldn't let me miss a meal. They both know I never do, I've even been late five times already just to make sure I eat breakfast before school, in the car or not. "Why not?" He asked, knowing I'm almost always hungry. Heck, Cass and I always were asking for snacks. I'd still hear her too, behind me in comp, try to eat something she packed for herself to eat during class. "It's just.." I trailed off for a second, trying to think fast.

"Exactly what I thought." I perked up, finding a possibly horrible idea in the back of my mind. "I was wondering if I could invite someone to dinner." My eyes lit up, hoping for the best. "This late?" My mom asked, "Right now?" I asked anxiously. She looked at my dad to see if he knew what was going on. "Could I invite Cassandra over to dinner?" My mom dropped her fork onto her lap, and my dad's eyes widened.