Vanilla Girl

C o f f e e

THE WEEK GOES BY in a blur and before I know it it's Monday again. Three days. Three days left before Chris and Mike show up. I won't lie, I've been counting. I couldn't help myself.

I didn't expect them to show up until winter break and I'm sure their parents didn't either. It threw me in for a loop when I heard the words leave Wyona's mouth, but I got over it fast enough. It was a happy surprise I couldn't complain about.

To Wyona's dismay, Chris parents won't be in town due to last minute business which left him staying over at her house.

Let me rephrase that. 

Chris was staying at my BFF house for two days straight.

I still don't know whom I should pity more, my best friend who won't be able to snooze knowing the guy who shattered her heart is staying two doors away from her, or Chris who will have to put up with Wyona's cranky moods.

"This fries taste like yesterday's reheated leftovers. They are gross!" She exclaims, throwing the half munched fry on her try.

I look at her with wide eyes. Wyona never complained about our school's food before. Never. Even less about fries which I know for sure are freshly out of the oven. I should know, I tasted them myself.

It's not the food though, I know her. She's been like this ever since she found out Chris is staying at her house. She's secluded herself inside her head, she barely talks and when she does it's usually to complain or take her anger and frustration out on others. 

Don't get me wrong, I love my best friend, but I'm teetering over the edge of sanity by now. Give me sarcastic, impulsive, emotional Wyona and I'll know how to handle it, but this girl, this girl I'm not so sure.

I eye her warily for a beat, "Would you like my sandwich?" I offer. "I could eat your fries..."

She huffs, dropping her arms on the table, "Thanks, but I'm fine. I'm not hungry anyway."

She's a far cry from fine, but I won't be the one to say that out loud.

"Have at them if you wish." She shoves the tray my way and I accept it gladly.

Who in their right mind would turn down fries?

Wyona sweeps her curls behind her ear and falls silent, her brown eyes making a sweep over the noisy cafeteria. I munch on my sandwich as I consider my next words. 

What do you say to your friend when she's cranky to not make her crankier?

I guess I have yet to find out.

Thank you Chris.

"Is there something you'd like to talk about?" I ask.

As soon as the words escape my lips her back straightens, her lips press together and her nose flares.

Flares. 

Should I be worried for her to turn into dragon mode anytime soon?

"No. There's nothing I'd like to talk about." She snaps, and I suddenly feel the urge to flee to next period or claim I need the restroom.

I'm lucky we're sitting or else she'd have already taken a swing at something. 

"There is though something I have to talk about." She continues.

Oh.

"So there is something?" I tip-toe into the waters.

Her head jerks.

"Is it Chris related?" I ask, peeking down at my sandwich.

Dark coffee eyes fix on mine, "I don't know anyone else who excels on bringing this side of me."

Ok. So my suspicions were right, it is Chris related.

I pick up a fry, "What happened?"

She shoves a hand through her thick black hair and releases a frustrated sigh, "He texted me."

I'm so caught of guard that the fry falls from my gaping mouth and lands on the floor.

"Wha--what?"

"He texted me." She repeats.

I stare at her dumbfounded. Let me get this right, Chris... texted her?

"When? What did he say?" I ask as my brows furrow in confusion.

"Well, he practically told me he wasn't searching for trouble and that If I was itching for it then he'd better stay somewhere else. Can you believe it? The nerve of that guy. He treated me like a fourteen year-old troublemaker. That's exactly what he did. He dared to make me feel like a kid who doesn't know how to behave in her own house! As if I'm the one to blame over this awkwardness between us." The words stumble out of her mouth in an angry rush.

"I'm sure he didn't mean it that way---" I start.

"Oh, believe me he did." She interrupts.

I look up at her. Her curls are sticking in wayward directions, her eyes are tired and her skin lacks its usual glow.

"It's not worth getting out of shape over it." I say. "Just ignore him."

It isn't until the words escape my mouth that I realize I might be too late. "You didn't answer, did you?"

Wyona gives me her 'don't be stupid Ada' look, "Of course I didn't. He can take his "civil" message and stick it---" 

A chair scratches against the floor interrupting her in the middle of her angry fuzz, and a second later a body drops into the seat next to mine.

My head snaps up and takes in the figure flopping down at my side. Brownish tousled hair, tall frame, I'd recognise him anywhere. It's Justin.

Wyona snaps her mouth shut and glares at the unwanted company. 

He shoves a hand deep into his hair and drops his head forward, with the other hand he beckons Wyona to keep talking, "where the sun doesn't shine," He completes. "Keep going, don't mind me."

I eye him over, from the wrinkled shirt to the disheveled hair, he looks like a mess.

My lips twitch, "Trouble in paradise?"

His head drops back with a groan, "I'm in need of your super-awesome-mind-reading skills."

"super-awesome-mind-reading skills?" Wyona echoes.

I chuckle, "Yeah, well, I developed them overnight."

"And do you charge the service?" She asks, raising a questioning brow.

"No." I reply, as if the mere idea was ridiculous.

Wyona casts a glance at Justin, "Well, you should."

I roll my eyes and turn to face Justin, "What's up?"

He peeks at me from between his fingers, "She replied."

I'm lost for a minute, searching for a thread, something to lead me up to whatever he's talking about. That only confirms my awesome-mind-reading skills are seriously damaged, or were never there to begin with. And then it hits me. Of course.

There's only one person who would contact him and stir such a mixture of emotions inside his chest.

Lynn. 

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