Astray

34

Once I am comfortably seated on my bed, I open Roland's letter. I could hardly wait to read it. I love words, specially when they're written.

Hi Lisa,

We were best friends. But then I fucked up. But I still care and watch out for you and from all that I've seen, you've moved on and are very happy with your new friends. But here, I'm not so happy without you and your presence is felt every moment. I know a sorry isn't enough, so I'll ask for a chance. A chance to begin again.

So hey there, pretty girl with those pretty grey eyes, will you be my friend?

RA

A giggle escaped my throat after I finished reading the letter. This gives me pure joy. The writing with average skills is Roland's. And I can't even deny that all I want to do right now is go and tell him that yes, I will be his friend.

I check my phone. There is a message from Grace and one from the mobile company, but none from Albert. It's not like we talk a lot over chats. He isn't a texting person, he told me once. He's not even very talkative. He believes that words are precious and one must respect them by using them at the right times, for the right matters. Throwing them around just takes away their essence. He also-

Oh God, I miss him so much.

I'm ready to accept that maybe he doesn't want to be anything more than friends but I at least deserve closure. A reason, some response. And an answer. Did he not feel anything for me at any point of time?

We were great friends, almost in love.

Almost.

That word is heartbreaking. We could have almost been together. He almost liked me. Things were almost fine. And then, they just broke apart.

He told me I was his person, and I told him he was mine. It just saddens me how something so beautiful could break down so easily. It was one of the purest relationships I've had, devoid of benefits of any kind. Turns out that I have to fuck everything up.

I get up and walk out of my room. Bouncing down the stairs, I open the door of the kitchen. Maria is standing there, ordering the servants what to cook for dinner.

Looking at her around the house, controlling the servants and being comfortable trying to take my mother's place, doesn't bother me as much as it used to. Everyone moves on. Dad did too. Who cares if she's a hoe?

Okay wait, that sounded wrong. Being a victim of slut shaming, I should be the last person talking about a woman that way. Maybe she's not a hoe, but she definitely is a selfish, cunning woman who stole my father away from me.

Real men don't get stolen, Melissa. Ouch. Reality is a slap on the face, every damn time.

My eyes meet Maria's across the dining table and they stay there. Her eyes are blank, only with a tinge of sadness. Mine? I'm pretty sure they're filled with hatred.

I take a bottle of juice and leave the kitchen. When I reach my room, I take out a glass and place it along with the bottle on the table, ready to pour out a drink.

But then something within me just doesn't want to drink fruit juice. So I take out a vodka bottle from the little fridge beneath my bed and pour out a drink. And as the drink burns my throat and fogs my vision, I finally feel at home.

•••

The weekend passes away with me trying to study and be productive for a change. On Monday, I get up an hour earlier and jog to school. It would take me a while, but it'll help me bring my body back on track.

I change out of the track suit in the school washroom and as I walk out, retouching my mascara, I bump into Stuart.

"Hello Richards."
"Hi York." I roll my eyes, half playfully.

"Rol was looking for you." He leans against the door of the washroom. I look up into his amazing blue eyes. And the night I've spent with him flashes before my eyes. I'm about to tear up myself for being such a slut again, when I gently console my sub conscious, there's nothing wrong with a woman who likes sex, wants sex and haves sex. Not like I'd recommend it to anyone. Your body is a temple, worship it like one. It's fun to be sexually intimate with all the people you like at the beginning, but then you start actually start growing up. And it doesn't feel so appealing anymore.

I push the thought at the back of my mind and smile at him.
"Ask him to come and find me."
I flip my hair behind my shoulder and Stuart whistles from behind.

Guys giving me the attention, yes, this is who I am. Why will I go behind someone who doesn't want me?

I've not yet reached class when someone taps my right shoulder. I turn around and see no one. And when I turn about completely, my eyes meet a familiar pair of brown eyes.

"So what is the answer?" He doesn't even wait for a while to ask that as a mischeivous smile plays on his lips.

"Well, I still haven't thought of it." I pretend to think, tapping my chin with my long nails.
"Oh come on Lisa, you've been thinking about it all weekend, I'm pretty sure."

"When did you become this cocky?"
"Did I? Okay I won't."
Wow, it is actually that simple for him. Pleasing me and putting me first. It feels good when someone changes the little traits of their personality for you.

"Yes." I say and start to walk away.
"What?" He mutters in disbelief and jumps in my way again.
"You heard me Rol." I turn about and look at him.

"Wow I can't believe this." He smiles and it's so genuine, I feel loved. Like I haven't felt since a while. "Now give me a hug."

He leans in before I can take a step forward and his scent overwhelms me. Roland is back. It feels like I've come home after long. And with that, I hug him back.

But somewhere behind the lockers, I don't miss the way how a bespectacled boy walks away slowly, looking at us all the time.