Sweet Revenge

•Chapter 12: Sweet Dreams•

| C h a p t e r  1 2 |

Nine Years Ago (cont...)

I walk home in silence, tears rolling down my face, fully comprehending the loss. 

I've just lost my only friends. My heart feels like it has sunken out of my chest.

I stroll into my house, completely dazed. I know that my dad is home because his car is in the driveway. He's probably working, though, so I decide against disturbing him. I wipe my tears and go to my room. I sit there for about two hours, when I hear a knock on the door. I can hear muffled voices from downstairs, but I choose not to listen.

At that moment, I don't care about anything. I want nothing but to be alone. My back is turned when I hear my bedroom door open. My dad pokes his head in.

"Hey sweetie! You have a visitor," he announces cheerfully.

My dad only says those words on two occasions. The first is if Rosie comes to visit. The second  is—

"Hey," the voice says softly.

Bright green eyes stare back at me when I turn around.

"Why are you here, Wyatt?" I ask, snapping. It's rude, but I'm really upset.

His eyes widen a little bit. "I thought that maybe we could go to the park... Ya know, finish that game we started yesterday."

"You really hurt my feelings, you know."

"I know, and I'm sorry Ashley. I didn't think you'd be this mad," he grabs my hand and tries to pull me towards the door, "Let's go now!"

I pull my hand away, making him wince slightly. I'm frustrated at this point. This isn't just any fight that we can just hug out. He especially knows that I'm terrified of the dark, yet he still laughed at me earlier. On top of that, he's tossed me to the side way too many times. A lot of the time, it's felt like I've been the one putting in all the effort into the friendship.

"No."

If there is one thing Wyatt Silverstone is not used to, it was the word no. He always gets what what he wants: whether it's a new toy, or to go somewhere. The world is his.

"Come on, Ashley! Let's just go."

"I don't want to go with you anymore."

"What do mean?"

"You've been hanging out with bad older kids, and Joe was saying such bad words! You probably say them too."

"You have to trust me Ash! Those older kids are just a boy on the team's brother and his friends. I promise, I wasn't bad with them."

Everything about him is pleading me to accept his apology, but I am not having it.

"Go away, Wyatt. I don't wanna be friends anymore," I command.

I have never seen that much hurt on a person before. It makes me feel bad about what I've said to him, but I'm so upset with how the day has played out.

Realizing the severity of the situation, I'm about to retract my statement, but before that, he wordlessly leaves the room. 

The next day at school, for the first time in a long time, I sit alone. Usually, Joe, Wyatt, and I play pretend at recess with only the three of us.

That day, the boys who would normally stand by my side are hanging out with the "cool" fifth grade boys from their team, two years older than them. They look like they are having a blast, when suddenly, we make eye contact. I immediately look down at the dolls I'm playing with, shyly. I feel footsteps coming closer to me. The whole group is standing around me, but I keep my head focused on the ground.