FOREVER AGO | CHANDLER RIGGS {2}

4.

Emmaline Goulding was no stranger to putting on a charming smile and dazzling personality in front of an audience for hours on end, but making it through a simple family dinner without wanting to retreat in seclusion proved nearly impossible.

As soon as the table was cleared, and with Ossie's promise to sabotage no further, she thought maybe she could make a break for it. The stairs waited for her on the other side of the living room. All she had to do was acknowledge Chandler and this would all be over. He was sitting on the white canvas couch, playing with Napoleon. The pug's fat, sausage body sprawled obnoxiously, entitled to be pet.

Emmaline took a deep breath and approached. She reached for being friendly.

"Hey, Bud-"

"Can we talk outside for a second?" Chandler interrupted her attempt at a passing hello.

A small part of Emmaline died in absolute, sheer terror while the rest of her went completely television static. Ossie was suddenly at her shoulder. "Sure, Bud. Em would love to."

Then Ossie shoved her good-naturedly through the french doors that led to their backyard, Chandler smoothly following behind. She sucked in a breath as the doors closed behind, leaving her and the dark haired boy alone for the first time in over a year.

Emmaline stood facing the pool, the multicolored lights making it shimmer in shades of purple then green then pink. She tried to focus on that patterns in the water when Chandler approached from behind. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife, unable to contain the awkwardness of words on the tip of tongues.

"Look," He began. "I've been meaning to talk to you since I made this mess."

She tilted her head towards him, staring at his shoes instead of his face.

"I know that I took our friendship for granted over and over but once I lost it, I realized that it was one of the few stable things I had in life. I didn't realize how much I depended on you until you weren't there anymore." He came closer, speaking slowly, surely. It came from him like something he had been holding in tight for awhile that he was finally letting out, piece by piece. "But I was so stupid and fucked up, I was more obsessed with these ideas in my head then the reality before me. I thought I could have anything I wanted without suffering the consequences. What I did to you was wrong. I put you in so many difficult situations and expected you to know what to do. But we were just kids."

"We still are kids." Emmaline finally spoke, slightly abashed by his cursing.

"You're right. We are." He agreed before continuing his spiel. "And I acted like a giant, pathetic baby. I hated myself, I really did. I just wanted to disappear after everything. I felt like... I was toxic and just contaminating all the good things I had in life. And I didn't even take into account how you felt, I just wanted to shove my feelings on to you at every turn and expect you to accept them."

Emmaline felt her eyes prickle at the memories of the painful time. She remembered how it felt as though everything were falling apart and she couldn't control anything in her own life. She then quickly turned away, pretending to inspect one of the landscaped palm trees that was in dire need of a trim, hoping Chandler hadn't seen her embarrassingly tear up.

"And when I wrote that, I didn't mean for it to be a slam at you, Emma. It was a slam at me. I was talking about myself."

Emmaline swung around, eyes wide. When she had first read the poem, she had no idea how it was supposed to be about her. It hadn't really made any sense from that perspective. Although she wouldn't admit it, she had analyzed every line. Memorized them like the back of her hand. And now hearing the truth behind the verses it suddenly made sense.