Mr. Cinderella (5SOS) {discontinued}

(17) At Least I'm Not A Fictional Character

I nod as Kat instructs me to start talking, but it takes a couple of minutes for me to figure out how to start - where do I even start?  I run through everything I need to tell her silently; the double date, Brandy's weird behaviour, the text, catching my supposedly-faithful now-ex-boyfriend cheating on me with someone I believed to be one of my most reliable and trustworthy friends, running to the 5 Seconds Of Summer house, Luke comforting me, the way I embarrassed myself by trying to kiss the tall boy with the clear blue eyes, the way that humiliation worked out for the better in the end, the way Kat unknowingly ruined our attempts at our version of 'taking things slow'.  We might be here for a while, I think as I realise just how must Kat has missed in the past twenty-four hours.

Never one for impatience, Kat sits quietly as she waits for me to start.  "Remember how I've always wanted to go on a double date?" The questions appears to surprise Kat, which isn't too weird I guess - it is a pretty strange way to start this discussion, especially as my best friend has no idea of its relevance to everything that has happened in the past day.

"Yeah," she answers eventually.  "But I thought I heard you planning one with Tyler, Brandy and Cal yesterday?"  Even though it's a true enough statement, she says it with intonation that makes it sound more like a question.

"Right," I agree, shifting slightly so that my eyes are now skimming over the street outside the window, instead of still trying to get used to the vividness of Kat's red hair - even though she dyed it a few days ago, I'm still not completely used to it, and it's a shock for my eyes whenever I look at her (not a bad shock; the bright red colour suits Kat, but she's had dark hair for so long that it's kind of weird seeing her without it).  "Well, it didn't exactly go the way I wanted it to."

Kat waits for a moment, carefully thinking through her response before she gives it.  "Nothing ever really goes the way we want it to, which is why it's probably best to stop over-thinking things."

In spite of the seriousness of the situation, I grin ruefully - that comment was very deliberated directed at me.  I'm probably the most overly-analytical person on this side of the Atlantic, and Kat knows it.  Thankfully, when I glance at her, there's a smirk plastered across her face; things can't be all that bad if she's still able to make sly remarks and smile.  

"Still," I protest, "this was really bad.  Like, disastrous bad.  Catastrophically bad.  It was so bad that the Devil is probably looking up from Hell and laughing at-"

"Mouse."  Kat raises an eyebrow at me, and I take the hint: shut up about how bad it was and actually explain why it was so terrible.  Feeling slightly guilty about quite how dramatic I'm getting about the double-date (although, you can't really blame me - it was pretty horrific, Luke being the only silver lining to come from everything that happened yesterday), I nod and begin my explanation.  I tell Kat about how Calum and I were kicked out of the conversation at The Chocolate Frog, how tense the walk home with Brandy was and how she asked to be left alone for a while.  In places, I have to pause because I'm not entirely sure that these things really happened to me - especially not all in the same night - and because the wounds are too fresh for me to be rubbing salt in them through recounting them to Kat.  Like before, Kat doesn't interrupt once, except to assure that she's following what I'm saying by throwing in the occasional 'Uh-huh' or 'Hmm' or a simple nod of the head.  

When I get to the bit about the mysterious text, the one I didn't want to believe was from Brandy, my voice catches slightly, and I turn my attention to the world outside of the window yet again.  Eventually, I explain how I caught Brandy kissing Tyler, how my feet carried me straight to this house, and how Luke was there to pick up the pieces of the broken girl, shattered by the revelation that her boyfriend wasn't as faithful as she believed, and that one of her closest friends ended up being the closest thing I have to an enemy.  Keep your friends close and your enemies closer flashes into my mind, and I mentally kick myself (yet again) for my naivety.  It's physically hurts to realise that trust is an empty word, and that people worth trusting are few and far between.  I guess I can add that to list of 'bright sides', the good things that I can thank the past twenty-four hours for: I know who my true friends are.