Bad Boy Religion

Chapter 13 - A Friend

Chapter 13

A Friend

Toss the ball.

It hits the wall.

Bounces back to you.

Toss the ball.

It hits the wall.

Bounces back to you.

Toss the ball.

It hits the wall.

Bounces back to you.

Toss the ball.

It hits the wall.

Bounces back to you.

Toss the ball.

It hits the wall.

Bounces back to you.

_____________

"When I woke up from the accident. A month had passed and I was in a hospital. I had gone under a coma. Unfortunately, I didn't suffer from Amnesia, so I woke up remembering in painful detail everything that happened that night.

Elliot's parents didn't press charges and my dad bribed the police to let me go with his money. I wish I was rotting in a jail cell though or hadn't ever woken up.

Nowadays, my mom can't look me in the eye. She doesn't even try. I have a little sister. She's in 8th grade. She attends a boarding school and is kept oblivious of everything that's happening back home.

My dad stopped fucking random girls that work for him now. I guess that one good thing came with this.

I'm lonely, Dalia. I'm so lonely. My mom doesn't let me get close to anyone and I didn't want to- at first...I tried to keep everything strictly school. But you stand there, you give me that face and I- I couldn't help myself.

I just want a friend. I don't deserve it, but I'm going crazy and I- ever since that night, I haven't sipped a single bit of alcohol. And I promise you, I won't ever intentionally hurt you but...I care about you and even if you decide to be my friend and then change your mind later...I'll be waiting. I promise."

When he finishes I look up at him and smile. With the pad of his thumb, he gently wipes a tear off my cheek.

"I want to be your friend," I say softly.

He crushes me in a bone-chilling hug. I hug him back. His touch still sending fireworks all throughout me, I shudder. And as I stare out at the fields of gravestones, I can help but think...

What have I gotten myself into?

____________

Toss the ball.

It hits the wall.

Bounces back to you.

Toss the ball.

It hits the wall.

Bounces back to you.

Toss the ball.

It hits the wall.

Bounces back to you.

Toss the ball.

It hits the wall.

Bounces back at you.

"Stop!" Mary screams and snatches my ball away from me. "You can't keep sitting there, throwing this at the wall for the rest of your life!"

"It's been like two minutes," I say.

"Dalia, it's been an hour. Plus, I'm trying to respond to these emails and you're being very distracting."

"I'm sorry." I watch as she turns her head back to her laptop. I was at her house once again, and this time I didn't even bother lying to my stepmom. I simply told her, I'm going to a friend's and left. Her expression could be described as that of a fish.

Mary was twisting a lock of her straight blonde hair as she bore her squinted eyes into her computer. She looked nothing like me. While I had curly dark hair and brown skin. She was graced with long beautiful blonde hair write up to her bum, and sun-kissed skin. In the town I used to grow up in, she was the perfect girl. Everyone was pretty racist and I stuck out like a sore thumb. I was probably the only black girl there and whenever we walked next to each other we would get stared at.

She pleased society's expectations for a female and because of it, I felt so insecure sometimes when walking next to her.

I know that it's not right to feel like this, I just couldn't help it.

I grew up learning the fairer you were, the more beautiful.

It was quite extraordinary that she chose to be my friend and not part of the it-squad when we were growing up.

"Mary, do you think we all serve a purpose in life?" I ask as I drop the red rubber ball onto the floor, letting it bounce away under her bed.

"What do you mean?"

"Like...I guess are we all born to do something or to send a message? I just can't help think that Elliot was born to send a message to all drunk drivers and young teens about drinking...."

"I can see that, but you'll need to expand."

"Mmm, but I'll sound insensitive."

"Just say it. I'm your best friend."

"Okay. When someone dies...people pay attention. It's sad, but it's true. And so maybe, you need someone to die in order for someone to realize that drinking and driving is a problem...or that bullying a problem...

So were some people just born to speak out that message? I just find it awful that girl has to get raped then murdered in order for people to realize that sex without consent is wrong."

"I think I'm understanding what you're talking about." Mary leans back on her chair and looks at me.

"Humans do awful things. But the only way to block out evil is with good. People who do these awful acts need help and love and teaching to guide them...And I think your purpose is to fix Ashton. Show him, he can be the absolute best he can be. Don't fill him with more hate like his mom is doing by depriving him of love....you're perfect for someone like him."

"I guess you're right," I say and close my eyes while she goes back to her laptop.

I just hope I don't hurt him more in the process.

Or myself.