Reject.

Chapter 40

"Hey." Says Michael.

"What's up?" I ask.

"Nothing. Want to go to the park with me?"

"Sure. Should I come pick you up or do you want to walk?"

♢♪♢

I drive to Michael's and pick him up. As soon as he gets in the car, he puts his earphones in and presses play on his phone. When we start driving, he squeezes his eyes shut. I bet he's thinking about the moment before the crash. His hand nervously grasps the console between the seats. I put my hand next to his, and he laces his fingers with mine, squeezing my hand tightly.

I can hear music blasting out of his headphones; I pull his them out of his ears.

He opens his eyes. "What?"

"You can plug in your phone, you know. And put it on the car's speakers."

He plugs in his phone and we turn the volume up.

It seems like another perfect day. The sun is shining, Michael and I are together, happy, listening to Green Day play on the speakers and kissing at the stoplight before the park entrance.

♢♪♢

When we get to the park, someone walks towards us.

A girl, maybe a few years younger than me, with blonde hair dyed with multicolored streaks.

"Afternoon, Michael." She calls. She has an accent. It's British.

"Hello Sadie." Michael says.

"Who's this?" Sadie and I ask at the same time.

"Sophia, this is... uh... my friend... Sadie. Sadie, this is my girlfriend Sophia."

Sadie blows a bubble of gum and sticks out her hand. "Nice to meet you." She says, shaking my hand. "My boyfriend's over there." She points to two boys and a slim woman under a tree.

"Walt!" She calls, and one boy looks up. He jogs over.

Sadie whispers something to him, and he nods.

"Hi, Michael. I'm Walt. I'll be able to help, if you want." Walt says. His accent is American.

"What's going on?" I ask. "Michael, what do you need help with?"

He ignores me. It feels like a slap in the face.

"Okay. Thanks. I think I'll need it." Michael says to Walt, who grins.

"Michael, what is this?" I ask, a little more annoyed.

He ignores me and walks away with Walt and Sadie.

♢♪♢

I sit in the car for an hour. Michael comes back to the car and sits in the passengers seat.

"Why did you leave me in the park with them?" He asks, his voice at that pitch between a yell and normal talking.

"You left me!" I argue.

"Well, if you wanted me to stay with you, you could've said it!"

"And you didn't tell me what was going on!" I feel tears bubbling up, threatening to spill.

"That's because I don't want you to know!" Michael yells.

His shout rings in my ears.

I drive him home in silence. He says thanks for the ride but before he's too far to hear me, I mutter 'asshole'.

I regret it when I see him opening his door.

He leans up against it, putting the key in and just standing there. He's probably crying. He probably thinks I hate him.

And half of me does. Half of me wants to just dump him because I can't stand how self absorbed he can be and how much he won't tell me. But the other half of me wants to jump out of the car and hug him and tell him that he's okay, that I love him more than anything else, and that he's going to be fine. I want to tell him that he can't give up.

Knowing the circumstances he's in, he didn't need what I just said. I was being the asshole. I just drive away as soon as I see that he's entered his house, holding back tears.

My phone buzzes.

It's from Michael:

I've had enough of this bullshit.