Mr. Cinderella (5SOS) {discontinued}

(13) Stranger Things Have Happened

 

The walk home with Brandy is a long one.  It shouldn't be, because it's only a five or ten minute walk home, and the time I spend with Brandy typically flies by, feeling like a matter of seconds.  Instead of the sound of the wintry breeze or the remnants of crisp autumn leaves crunching underfoot being drowned out by mine and Brandy's laughing voices, I am consumed by the tense and awkward silence.

 

It's never felt like this.

 

I honestly thought that tonight would go well, that it would be a success.  And, I guess on some levels, it was - just not for me or Calum.  On the plus side, at least now I know that I shouldn't have been so worried about my boyfriend getting along with one of my closest friends.  Well, she had been one of my closest friends; for so long, we have been separated by countries or oceans, time zones and computer screens.  Now that she's physically here with me, I'm not sure if that's reflected in her mental state.  Here we are, closer than we have ever been, separated by the distance one night has put between us.  My gut instinct is telling me that this distance is insurmountable, but I want so badly to prove it wrong.  If only I knew how.

 

My neck begins to grow hot, and I realise the heat is sourced from Brandy's eyes studying me.  The moment I attempt to connect my gaze with hers, however, she turns away.  Not wanting to give in so easily, I clear my throat.  "So, um, Tyler seems to like you."  Immediately, I silently curse myself for referring to tonight - I should be talking about something completely different, instead of bringing up the night that has seemingly desecrated our friendship.  My ears perk up as I swear I can hear Brandy mumble a response, but her eyes are firmly fixed on the path ahead of her, so I guess I misheard.

 

"That's good," I prompt, deciding to continue with the conversation I'm trying to initiate.  "I mean, I was really worried about you two not getting along, so I'm happy you both proved me wrong."  I can see my house now, we're approaching my road.  The flowers and ivy tangled in the lattice on the front remind me of my own circumstances right now: a beautiful mess.  The ivy vines are knotted together, and I can't imagine that I could untangle them without each stalk snapping completely; I just hope the same doesn't apply to Brandy and I.

 

"Yeah," Brandy agrees, surprising me with her reply - not so much the content of her one-word answer, more the fact that she gave a response at all.  Either way, it's a pleasant surprise, even if she's only speaking in monosyllables at the moment.  I wait for an elaboration on her response, but it doesn't come.

 

A moment later, we're by my front porch, and I start to dig my keys out of my pocket.  Growing frantic when I don't immediately locate them, I start to rummage in the compartments of the bag I grabbed and brought with me at the last minute.  "Have you ever regretted something, like, really badly?"  The soft sound of Brandy's voice, unusually quiet, causes me to stop.  Slowly, I raise my head, just to double check that she is, in fact, addressing me and not, for example, randomly talking to some stranger walking past at that moment.  But, no: there's no one else outside, and her eyes are locked on mine, steady and unmoving unlike her faltering voice.

 

I consider her question for a moment - have I ever regretted anything?  Anything at all?  I mean, sure, there are certainly some things that perhaps I would have like to have done differently - words I shouldn't have said in an argument, for example, or the way I behaved in certain situations.  And yet, overall, I don't think I would ever undo the argument itself, or renounce my involvement in situations that I may have acted stupidly in.  Sure, there are things that I could have done better, but at the end of the day, these experiences - even the negative ones that wear me down - all shape me, my outlook, my personality, and I don't think that that is ever something worth regretting.