Twenty Øne Reasons to Live

Chapter Sixteen

My Point of View 

"Ugh, gimmie a second," I huffed, and pushed past Rider and made my way out into the hall. 

"Ready?" Sarah asked me, smiling. 

"Yeah, here's the thing........we have a plus one..." 

Her smile faded slightly. "Who?" 

"Rider...?" I didn't realize my statement came out as more of a question until I finished. 

"What?? I hate him!" 

"His Mom isn't doing well, Sarah. He just came over and he's crying, and  begging for us to take him along, what was I supposed to say?" 

"Uh, get lost, maybe?" 

"Sarah!" I said, crossing my arms. 

"Fine. But I am not speaking to him." 

Sarah really hates Rider, you see... It's not because of what he does to me, because she had no idea about that. It's because for the longest time I chose him over her, I mean, me and him were best friends up until I was around eleven or twelve when he decided I should taste the pain his Dad inflicted on him. That's how it started, anyway. 

"Thank you." 

She nodded, but made extra sure to glare at Rider when he came out of my room, eyes still puffy and bloodshot. I think I saw some compassion in her eyes there for just a split second, though. 

XxxxX 

I drove down the highway, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles. The tension in here is insane. Sarah has indeed not spoken a word to Rider, and as far as I could tell, he didn't consider that a tragedy. I think they have more of a mutual hate going, honestly. 

"We're going to be late," she informed me, flatly. 

"No, we're not." 

"Yes, we are! Don't you see what time it is?!" 

"Yes, I see what time it is, we'll be fine." 

"She's right, we're going to be late," Rider spoke up. 

"Don't even agree with me, child, don't even," Sarah hissed, jerking around to the best of her ability. 

Rider sunk down into his seat, looking ticked for being told what to do by a seventeen year old priss. 

"We are not going to be late! Both of you, quiet!" I shouted, and that shut them for now. Children, absolute children, I swear. 

"We should play the ABC Band Name-Game." Sarah suggested several minutes later. 

I shrugged. "Fine by me, if you two play nice." 

They agreed and we began. 

"Aerosmith."

"August Burns Red." 

"Andy Mineo." 

"The Beatles." 

"Blindside." 

"Black Sabbath." 

Ew, Rider has bad taste in music. I only like stuff that makes me think deeply about my issues and then helps me come up with a solution to all my problems.  But anyway, we continued to play our game until we all got sick of it somewhere around the 'P' mark. 

XxxxX 

Finally, I pulled into the parking lot, and Rider helped me get Sarah into her wheelchair, and then we walked in and bought our tickets. Really crappy seats, but that isn't why I am here. I'm here to see, and thank them.