Foreign To This World

40

Lilac's POV
The next morning I woke up,my phone wasn't flooded with any of Annie's test messages for she hadn't sent any. I started internally worrying for her,she hadn't even came to the bus last night. I got up and put my clothes on,packing my bag with a frown etched on my face. My mom called me upstairs,and I grabbed my French toast,slowly chewing while still managing to sulk. My mom looked worried,too,she had been pestering me and asking about where she had been. The school bus finally came,and I put my bag over my shoulder,waving at my mom. I found Annie curled up in the corner of a seat,her hoodie pulled up so nobody would notice it was her. I gently placed my arm on her shoulder,indicating for her to look at me.

Hey,what happened last night?
Nothing.
Then why didn't you come to the bus?
Marie's friends invited me over for a party and they-
Annie,no need to hide something from me...
No,Lilac. This IS the truth.
Annie,you know we're not getting anywhere like this. I can tell that you're lying.
Dammit,Lilac! I thought you were my friend.
I am,I just want you to-

She turned her head away from me. I knew her sorrow,but it really wasn't going to get her anywhere if she kept on blaming it on others to feel better. I was rather disappointed. Annie had never lied to me before. I could hear her quiet sobs,indicating a big problem that I knew nothing about. It felt like crap. When we finally arrived to the school,I started walking alongside Annie,who was quickly marching into the school building.

I've never seen her so infuriated and sad in my entire life. I was not going to let go,not at a time like this. I pestered her about last night whilst she kept denying that Marie had nothing to do with it.

Lilac,if you refuse to believe me,why don't you go be friends with Marie instead? You should probably get used to it,as I will soon not be here for you.

Her harsh comeback caught me off-guard. I did not know what to do.
Was she seriously going to leave me like an empty soda can,draining me from the good stuff and throwing the rest in the trash? She would not do such a thing. I refused to believe so. My best friend,Annie Winsterfield was not the girl that I saw right before my eyes. She was different than this,but her actions said otherwise. She had changed,drained of all her innocence which was replaced with sorrow and guilt. She quickly entered the classroom as I stood outside,dumbfounded by the girl I had just talked to.