Snapshot (Alexbelle)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Dayo ordered food for me, which is sitting untouched in front of me. I feel nauseous at the thought of eating. Mom has started to become worried, basically forcing me to eat a little bit. I have just has a complete loss of appetite it seems.

Dayo stares at me from across the table, chewing on a fry. I attempt a weak smile at him, but he rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his drink.

"Stop pretending." He tells me.

I rest my chin in my hand. "Pretending what?"

"Pretending that you're okay." He says. He sighs and crosses his arms in front of him. "Because you aren't, and you know that too."

"I'm fine. Why does everyone keep asking me that?" I ask with an edge in my tone. I'm tired of that question.

"Because something's wrong that you won't tell us." He says.

"Who's us?" I ask again.

"Everyone who cares about you." He says. We both stare at each other, and I eat a fry off my plate to satisfy him.

Everyone that cares about me.

I am aware that a lot of people care about me and worry about me, but it's not enough. Where there may be 100 people that care about me, his not caring takes away 101 of those people. He matters that much. I know it's selfish, but I don't really care anymore.

"Have you talked to him?" Dayo asks from across the table, breaking the silence.

"Not since the premiere." I say in a stern tone.

No, I tell myself when I feel my throat start to tighten. I will not get worked up about this anymore.

Dayo must be able to tell that I'm starting to get upset, and reaches his arm across the table. He rests his hand over my arm.

"He calls all the time." I tell him, looking at his hand on my arm. Tears start to sting my eyes. I sniffle, trying to keep myself together.

"Do you ever answer?" Dayo asks me.

I look at him, and his face softens. I must look a mess already. I can picture myself: eyes red, swollen, and watery.

"What would I ever say?" I ask him. "What could I say? I don't-I just can't figure out what to do anymore. I ask myself who really messed this up; him or me? And every answer always comes back to me and I just can't deal with that."

"You did nothing wrong." Dayo says reassuringly.

I rub at my eyes with my sleeve, trying to stop the watering.

"I don't mean to sound nosy when I ask this, but have you not felt this way about someone before or something?" Dayo asks.

"Like what? Felt like shit? Because I've felt like shit plenty of times." I say, though it's muffled by my sleeve.

"Hey, language now." I hear Dayo say. I can't tell that he is smiling when he says that. "But no, and you know that's not what I meant. What you feel about Alexander-have you never felt like that before?"

I cringe at his name and feel like falling apart. This really needs to stop. I've been like this for too long.

"I feel so bad and I don't even know why!" I nearly shout into the sleeve of my jacket. The tears fall onto my jacket sleeve and I hide myself from Dayo.

Dayo is silent for several moments, but talks calmly when he does. "You love him, don't you?"

"I'm fifteen; I don't know what love is." I say, accompanied by a few sniffles.

"Sure you do." Dayo says. "Love is just kind of that feeling you get when you don't know another word to describe it."

I groan into my sleeve and pick my head back up. My eyes must be red and puffy, but I don't care.

"Thank you, Dr. Okeniyi." I say sarcastically. He smiles a little.

"And if you do love him, then you said you don't know what love is, which makes him your first love." Dayo states.

"Dayo, I don't know what the heck you are talking about and you are making my head hurt." I say back.

"I just said that Xander was your first love, most likely. And I've heard that you never get over those." Dayo says back.

I roll my eyes. "My first love was that guy I dated in preschool. I don't even remember his name, but I think we kissed under the big purple slide. And trust me, I've gotten over him."

Dayo laughs at me and shakes his head. He finally sighs and speaks again. "Your first love isn't always the first person you kiss or the first person you date, Isabelle. Your first love is...well, your first love is the person that you start to compare everyone else to. The person that you will never get over, even when you convince yourself that you have moved on. And if Alexander is your first love, which it sounds like he is, then this may go on a while. If I were you, I would answer the phone next time he calls. Answer it, talk to him, work things out. I can't handle the thought of you two not being able to tolerate each other."

I feel myself become nauseous again. "Thanks for the pep talk." I say before letting the tears fall back onto my jacket sleeve.

Dayo leaves cash on the table and helps me get up, and we walk back out to his car. He drives me back home, my head in my hands the whole way.

When we get to my house, I get out and walk up to the door. Dayo walks behind me.

I open the door and walk inside. Mom and Madeline were in the kitchen, and they immediately look concerned when they see me.

"What-"

"Hey Mama Fur." Dayo says, cutting off mom's sentence. I want to roll my eyes at his silly nicknames.

"Sister Fur." He says to Madeline.

Madeline looks between Dayo and I, and I just walk back to my room. Dayo is already in our kitchen talking to the two of them.

Why does everyone have to be so worried about me? It's not a bad thing, but I'm fine. I know that Alexander cares about me still, and I don't know why I am telling myself that he doesn't. I just-I don't know. I can't bring myself to talk to him.

I remember what Dayo had told me and grab my cell phone, seeing that I do have a missed call from Xander. Next time he calls, I will answer it.

I lay my head back down against the pillow, wishing for things to go back to normal. Dayo comes into my room, telling me goodbye before walking out. Madeline passes by, asking me if I was okay. I know that Dayo told them what happened. I answer Madeline with the same question: Am I okay?

She smiles weakly before walking past my room again. I wish things weren't like this.

So, I hold my cell phone in my hand, waiting and hoping for Alexander to call. Because when he does, I promise that I will answer it.