Paper Cuts (COMPLETED)

Chapter Thirty: Hot Fuzz

It's funny how one loses things so quickly.

In my case, it was my five best friends and my boyfriend. Losing a phone or misplacing a t-shirt is different. The first difference being that those are inanimate objects. The second being that when you lose your phone you expect it to show up again at some point. With friends, you know they won't. To lose your friends is to have something so unforgivable happen that you just couldn't be friends ever again.

I woke up on Sunday morning grieving only one thing. Will. My friends, sure. Maybe. But I made a decision that morning. I picked up my phone and made a new group chat with Thea, Clara, Eliza, Abbey and Lola, since I wasn't in the other one anymore.

Sarah Townsend to Group with Five Others:
"I hope you all know that you're evil bitches."

I left the group and went through Facebook, snapchat and Instagram, blocking each of them. I wasn't going to let them talk to me, try to say sorry, or even to hound me further. I didn't care. We weren't friends anymore, and that was that.

I opened up the phone app and called Harry.

"Hello?" he said cheerily. I smiled at the friendly tone.

"Hi," I said, "You don't hate me, do you?"

"Oh, gosh, Sarah," he exhaled loudly, "How are you? Last night was awful. Seriously, how are you?"

I laughed grimly and said, "So you're not mad at me? That's good. I'm not sure how many friends I have left anymore."

"Of course I'm not mad at you, Sarah. Matt and I were the only half-decent people at that party. We could see they made all that shit up."

It was enough to make me cry, but I smiled and said, "Not all of it. Everything about Will was real." I trailed off, and Harry hesitated, unsure of what to say.

"How is that... by the way?" He asked cautiously. I sighed.

"I honestly don't know. I'm too scared to call him. I just - I don't know."

Harry made a thoughtful noise and said, "Well. Sarah. You're welcome to be Matt and I's best friend from now on."

I smiled, "Thanks Harry. That means a lot."

"Don't worry about it."

--

School the next week was surprisingly uneventful. The five girls all ignored me, and I them. I moved myself in the classes I had with them to spots far from their view, and put down my head to study hard.

Exams came up to meet us in its usual swift wave, and then the summer holidays were upon us. I spent the summer bonding with the two boys at the movie theatre, over FIFA games and several hours spent just mucking about. I felt good, and I felt free.

In August I got my exam results back. Harry and Matt had been staying over that night, and the three of us ventured cautiously down the entryway. Lewis joined us cheekily, and leapt in front of me to where the pile of letters lay on the floor. He picked up the A4 envelope of results and tore it open, much to my chagrin.

"Oh, Sarah!" His eyes were wide in horror as he pulled out the blue sheet, "These are shocking..."

"Give me that," I snatched it from him, pulling it close to me. Harry, Matt and my brother watched intently, and I stepped back with a laugh. "Space, please."

I snuck a look at the top grade, and breathed out a heavy sigh. I looked further down the page, and continued to breathe out loudly. I looked up all over my page to see the anticipation on the boys' faces.

"Three A*s!"

"Sarah!" Harry gave me a high five, and Matt watched on with hysterical giggles as I jumped up and down. Mum came in with a scowl, sleep making her hair sit atop her head like a nest.

"What's this noise?" She said, and then saw the sheet in my hand. "How did you go, Sarah?"

"Look," I said, giving her the sheet. She looked up with wide eyes after scanning down the sheet, "Well done, but," she investigated the sheet closer, "English Literature was a B."

I rolled my eyes, and held out my hand for her to give me back the results paper. She smirked and waved at Harry and Matt, then trotted back down the hallway to her bedroom.

--

I never once regretted anything about that night at Jacob's party, except maybe for Will. I definitely wished he'd never seen that message. I'd meant the message when I'd said it, but now that I didn't have him anymore I realised just how wrong I was about him.

I spoke to him once in July.

"Sarah, I don't really want to talk to you. I'm sorry," he said as soon as he picked up. I leant back against my bedroom door and played with the hem of my shorts.

"Okay, but I just need to know one thing," I said. I chewed on my bottom lip and scratched my elbow.

"What?"

"Are we really breaking up?"

The line was static silence. Will sighed impatiently, "Yes, we are."

"Okay." My voice was strained as I tried not to cry.

The line went dead.