We've all heard and devoured the classic trope involving the shenanigans of a jock, a princess, a nerd, and a criminal. Although who knows of the trouble capable of ensuing when The Breakfast Club isn't PG-13 anymore?
That's the 2007 freshman batch...
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When I look back to the onset of summer, it feels nothing less than a snippet of my past life. A grimy scale now separates that time with the current, and the stark difference between the before and after is clearly visible. Maybe that's how we will all come to address that sun streaked period now. Before Kylie went missing. Before Emma and I broke up. Before I won a bet whose stakes depended on toying with my best friend's emotions... Mia.
***
2nd April 2007
My hands were typing and retyping, but nothing seemed good enough. I was running out of creative apologies by that point.
Meanwhile, she didn't pay any attention to my dilemma and kept gobbling on her caramel almond cupcakes. Ironically, it was my brilliant idea to bribe her with a sugary treat to help me out of my near daily woes.
"Do you think she will call me? She hasn't even responded to my texts," I sighed, visibly devastated.
I crashed at Mia's house, dumping the nervous energy bubbling within me after yet another argument with Emma. It wasn't even over anything valid this time around. She got upset because I forgot to take notes for her in class, when she couldn't make it. It's a big deal if I did that, since I don't even bother penning down notes for myself. But I can agree to some extent that it is my fault.
"Of course she hasn't, you are reeking of desperation. It's not the first time anyway, I can bet that within a week, both of you will cling to one another like always," Mia rolled her eyes.
"Someone's jealous, huh?" She choked on a piece of almond the very next second, failing to cover up the blush on her cheeks. One of the many times that I acknowledged how beautiful she is.
"Believe me, I don't need to." She scoffed, dumping the now empty box of cupcakes away on the couch. Mia couldn't stay soft for any longer than five seconds. It's only a matter of time before she goes back to her 'I don't give a fuck' attitude.
"Yeah, whatever you say. Why are you here anyway? I vaguely remember you telling me, your parents were supposed to come tonight?"
"Oh, they did come. It was fantastic, our happy little happy reunion. I didn't even bother to take anything to subtle away their presence, because they were right over my head. All the damn time," she pinched her temple and slumped down on the jute carpet. Almost as if a rock had been dropped down upon her.
I knew how she had a tough relationship with her parents, but this seemed really bad. She usually avoided delving much on that topic, so I had no clue what exactly might have triggered her this time. Not that I hadn't tried bringing it up in intervals, but that conversation didn't end up very well.
"I was thinking..." her phone chimed in, interrupting my already poor attempt.
"Wait, I am getting a call from hell," She picked it up, simultaneously toying around with the bare threads of her tattered jeans. "Hello... yeah, I just picked it up... no, there aren't any more calls. But listen," a beeping sound flew past the confines of her flip phone. She put it down swiftly and left the sight within a snap of fingers.
