The Story So Far

Epilogue

5 MONTHS LATER

Liz’s giggle echoed around the hall, her soft hands clasped on my wrist like a vice grip. The click clacking of our heels tapped around the silent room, her pace picking up faster the longer the walk took. The blind fold around my eyes darkened my vision, making me think twice of agreeing to something which must be, unmistakably, a joke.

It’s been five months since Travis and I talked. It’s been five months since we’ve broken up. And it’s also been five months of utter silence and solace.

Since the time that I knew Travis and Amy slept together, I started to avoid any contact with them as much as possible. The wounds were still fresh and talking to them so soon would only be squeezing lemon juice on the fresh wound. Everything was just too much to handle.

Brittaney was a constant company. She would always listen and would never cease to give out her frank advices, whether it hurt or not. She kept mine and Amy’s sides to head, talking to the both of us on different time frames since she knows that Amy and I aren’t just alright.

A few months later, though, during Brittaney’s infamous Foam Party—yes, foam party. She uses their backyard pool and fills it up with bubbles, so that when you slide down their slide, you get into puddles of bubbles—Amy approached me. She was dressed in a casual sundress, ending a few mere inches above her knees, her blonde hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, and her slippers slapped against the grass silently. She gave Cameron a squeeze on his arm and pecked him on the cheek before probing the lawn toward me.

You wouldn’t know the surprise I was taken to when she sat down beside me on the benches, smiling at me with both sadness and happiness in her eyes. Her blue eyes were ghost like as it pierced through my hazels, it was as if she was seeing me for the first time but not seeing me at all at the same time.

She took hold of the untouched punch beside her, looking back at a bikini clad Brittaney who was being thrown over Enoch Samuel’s shoulder. We both watched as Britt appreciatively gave Enoch, the football team’s quarterback, a slap on the ass.

Amy turned back to me, her eyes glistened by unwelcomed tears, “Allie...”

I just looked at her through emotionless, glass eyes. Making my exterior as hard as possible, even though I knew I was going to break down any second and welcome the irrevocably good sensation of a best friend’s hug.

She dropped the glass of punch back to the coffee table, skimming a hand up and down her arm as if it was cold, when really, it was the middle of summer, “I’m sorry. I know that what I need wasn’t acceptable, it wasn’t worth being your best friend over. The past few weeks was a torture for me, Als. I didn’t know who I can talk to and just looking at Cam makes me guilty all over again. I know I messed up big time, but I’m really going to try for the rest of my life just to get back to you,” she clasped a surprisingly cold hand around mine which were enclosed into a fist, “I need you, Als. Only God knows how much of a hell my life has been when I just couldn’t be with my best friend.”

I softened up as the sparkle of tears glistened down her cheek, mentally telling myself that Amy was thankful for her subconscious for not letting her wear make-up today. I scooted over to her, tucking a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear, “You know, Aims. You wouldn’t have done that if I hadn’t kissed D.”

The other girl smiled thoughtfully, wiping at her tear-streaked face, “I know, Allie. But I still shouldn’t have done that. I still shouldn’t have slept with—”

Shaking my head,  I smiled, “I shouldn’t have kissed D, too.”

Unexpectedly, her arms wrapped around me, her familiar feminine scent wafting through my nose. I inhaled the perfume appreciatively, engrossing myself in that moment of second chances.