Unsteady

-two-

--

I felt bad about being so harsh on Kennedy a couple hours later. I was being too overly sensitive because I was already upset about the news. Also considering I was always oversensitive. 

Besides, she was true. How could I leave my mom? She was my best friend, even more so than Kennedy.  Not in a cliche way. In an embarrassingly genuine way. It sounds pathetic, but it's because we're all the other one has. Or, we were. That's what hurt the most about the fact that she was getting remarried. She had someone else. I had no one. I'd be a third wheel. I could live in a house with Carlos, in fact, I already am. But to move away from all of the things that kept me sane while living with him and having to fend for myself  was going to be close to impossible without going crazy.

My mother and I used to do everything together. From the period of time that Rachael had left and before she'd met Carlos. We'd stay up late and watch movies, and eat our favorite homemade, caramel popcorn. We'd fall asleep at three in the morning and wake up at noon and go to iHop in our pajamas. When my mom had to go to work while I was around, she'd take me with her and make faces at me whenever she had a second to spare. 

We were a pair. Now they were a pair. I was the odd one out. 

--

I woke up before sunrise the next morning, and stared out my bedroom window for what felt like an eternity. School let out this week. I needed a miracle or in five days, I'd be on an airplane to California. 

The window in my bedroom had a little bench in front of it, so you could sit on it and rest your shoulders on the window sill, mesmerized by the sunrise. There was something beautiful about watching the city wake up. My father and I used to do it all the time when he was alive. Neither my mother or Rachael were interested in taking his place on our bench after he died, nor was I in them taking it.

I watched the neighbors across the street's lights turn on and listened to the birds chirping. I didn't feel happy. I felt empty. I had lost everything. My dad, my sister, and now my mom to Carlos, my home, and possibly even my best and only friend, Kennedy. Why was I watching other people's lives when I barely had control of my own?

I wished that I could be that girl I saw across the street, getting my cheerios, ready to start the day. She had a mother and a father, and a sister. A loving sister. I saw them outside sometimes, biking to King's Cove and taking photos of each other on their lawn.

They probably had no problems, at least not problems like mine. They were probably getting ready for another normal day. I wondered how many other people in the world were getting ready for just another normal day, while my life was slowly crumbling apart.

I wondered how many other people felt their lives were crumbling apart.

I watched the family for a little longer until my alarm went off. I wiped the tears off my face that I didn't realize were even there until now, and shut off the alarm. 

--

"Val, hey." I knew the arm on my shoulder is Kennedy before I'd even turned around. I didn't have any other friends who were close to me enough to call me Val.

"I'm sorry. I was being a brat. You were right, anyways." I said immediately. Life without Kennedy by my side was not a life I wanted to continue with. At least I could fix the things I could control.

"Shut up, you have the right to be a brat." she laughed just as the first bell rung.

"Love you, Ken."

"You too, Barbie." Kennedy shouted as she's running down to class. In result, several of my schoolmates turn their heads, most likely wondering who we were and why we were so strange.

On my way to Physics class, I made a mental note never to call Kennedy Ken ever again.

--

I checked my phone after the final bell rang and I had a call from an unknown number. I didn't know whether to call back or to ignore it. Not many people had my phone number other than my mom, Kennedy and a couple other friends from school.

What if it was Carlos, calling because something happened to my mother? Maybe it was Kennedy, calling from another number because she was in desperate need of help and didn't have her phone? I overthink everything. Either way, now I needed to call the number back.

I got on the bus, stuck my earbuds in and hit redial and waited. My heart pounded slowly because of the unnecessary anxiety I had brought upon myself. 

It rung once.

Twice.

On the third time, I was going to hang up until I heard a voice on the other line.

--

--

--

"Valia? It's Rachael."