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the day after.
Mary has never liked her best friend keeping secrets from her, her lips sewn tightly together to prevent herself from spilling its diary truth.
So when she finally heard about the one person Alexis loved so much, but could not do anything because of her circumstances, Mary had felt so, so, glad to see just a little part of Alexis’ enclosed heart.
Even if it was a sad story, she had been so appreciative of the fact that her best friend had started treating her as one.
But in doing so, it had become painfully clear that Alexis had been suffering alone for months. How her best friend had managed to pull through was beyond her.
Ever since, Mary could see the little things she had missed before: the dim glint in Alexis’ dark eyes whenever Elaine passed her in the school halls, the slouch of her shoulders when she saw Elaine with someone else, and the way she would purse her lips a few seconds after.
All of these were practically screaming out the obvious, and Mary had wanted to whack herself for not being to see it all before. How blind of her.
She let the glass of beer leave her lips, but continued to twirl the glass, green eyes looking out the café window to stare blankly at the blurs of people meshing together in the crowd by the traffic junction.
What’s taking her so long? Mary grumbled to herself, taking a small sip of beer. How bothersome.
She found it beyond her to accept an invitation to meet her, the nightmare in Alexis’ life, to talk about things. Mary, however, found herself reluctant to. She had no reason to, after all. She was only here to tell the devil of a woman to back off.
The soft tinkle of the café door’s golden bell and the confident footfalls that were painting disaster in her ears made her look up from her glass to meet eyes of chocolate.
“Wasn’t so sure that you would come,” Elaine quipped, seating herself on the booth opposite Mary, and settled her bike helmet next to her. Her gaze flitted to Mary’s, and sighed when all she could see was guarded hostility behind green swirls.
“Don’t worry,” Elaine smiles softly, picking up the menu, which was lying across Mary, and flipped through its pages slowly. “I won’t bite.”
“Oh,” Mary raised a suspicious brow, staring at Elaine from the rim of her glass, her scoff barely earning attention from her companion. “It isn’t me I’m worried about.”
But it was enough to earn a clenched jaw and a haunted look.
“Look,” Elaine’s sigh was heavy, chock-full of regret, desperation and pain. Her eyes mirrored her state, and Mary could not help but feel a twinge of guilt. “I’m past that already. I just want to know how she’s doing.”
