By Your Side (Preview)

Chapter 2

Time heals all wounds. That's what I was told growing up, and I was still waiting for it to happen. Although it didn't seem like it would ever start since, in the eight years that had passed after that day, it felt like the wound was opening slowly but surely. There was no end to my pain in sight. It's hard to determine where everything went wrong since after that fateful afternoon, both Hannah and I remained close, maybe even closer than we were before the kiss. Hannah's mom continued to babysit me every day until my parents felt like I was old enough to stay home on my own. Maybe it started to change when we didn't see each other every day. Hannah and I slowly drifted apart, feeling as if I had been cast to the sidelines. Until we had merely become acquaintances that wandered the halls of the desolate high school.

Thankfully it was all coming to an end soon. The school year was almost over, and I'd never see Hannah again, and maybe that's when the healing process would start. Yet even then, I still had connections to her and wondered if it would be enough distance. I couldn't help but think like this while sitting in the boring classroom, with the monotoned teacher's voice echoing in one ear and out the other. Other than Hannah, the weight of the world was also taking its toll on me. I was no longer the fun-loving kid I used to be when I was younger. Mere months earlier, I had been diagnosed with depression. Simply living each day on an assortment of medications that were supposed to make the days of my life go by easier. Unfortunately, I was still waiting for that day. My wardrobe had also changed with my mental health. I went from the little bit of colour in my life to everything being black: black jeans, black shoes, a black hoodie, and usually a black or navy blue t-shirt.

It was my iconic wardrobe that those people that did know me knew me for. However, even then, I didn't fit in with the kids that were deemed goths or emos by the school jocks. To put it mildly, I found myself in a small group of people referred to as the outcasts. I didn't know if I should be proud of that or not, but it led me to who would take Hannah's spot as my best friend.

I was heading down a steep slope of self-pity and loneliness, while Hannah, on the other hand, was living a much different life. Where I continuously spiralled into oblivion, she was only going up the social ladder. She was one of the popular kids, and she carried herself as if she didn't have a single worry in her life. Then when it came to the looks department, Hannah was practically beating guys off with a stick. The way people talked about her made it sound like she was some sort of high-value prize that they were all trying to win. I couldn't argue with them since Hannah looked like a model you'd see in a lingerie commercial. All of her curves were in all the right places. Yet I still knew I didn't stand a chance, even with the memories of our past lingering.

Yet, there was one somewhat similar thing that we both shared. It was our wardrobes; they had both drastically changed. Where mine reflected my internal sadness and depression, hers had gone from being conservative to the full-blown colour of every shade. It wasn't only the colour, though, since the cut of her clothes had also become far more revealing. No matter where you looked, there was always something that hormonal teenage boys and maybe even girls could find themselves staring at. She was insanely attractive, and I still felt that if I had done things differently, perhaps I'd actually be with her. Except I wasn't, and I was no longer the only one who had eyes for her. She was perfect in every visible way, and that only meant that there was more competition. The majority of those people were ones I couldn't compete with.

I accepted a long time ago that I'd never get to experience that feeling of love with her again. Thankfully, it was almost over, and that's what brought me some relief. I was practically counting down the school hours before I'd finally be free to face the world as an adult. The thought of that also scared me, but at the end of the day, it just meant I'd have less time to think about what could've been. However, there were a few saving graces, one being the English class I was currently sitting in. My favourite teacher in the school was teaching it, pacing back and forth as we tried to understand the words he had on the board. What really left me feeling any form of joy was that I knew my best friend would always be there waiting at the desk beside me.