Pieces of Me

Chapter Fifteen

Ally

After I left the restaurant I had expected to be bombarded with angry calls and text messages, but strangely enough there was only radio silence. It's been like this for almost two days now – 36 long hours to be exact. Bridget, she isn't one to let her anger go unheard. She is never scared to make her thoughts vocal. Maybe she's just cut ties completely and has forgotten to tell me. The thought makes my stomach ache.

Today though, today is one of those wonderful, warm autumn days which would normally make me feel lighter. I'm sure it makes all the decent people feel lighter. The halls and canteen which are usually filled with bodies are almost empty, and white limbs are splayed out on the grass. Exposed, soaking up the beautiful sun. I can't seem to enjoy it even a little. The brick in the bottom of my stomach makes it impossible.

I put my bag down on the grass and lift up my arms shedding my body of my favourite soft, white sweater. Lifting my hand to my eyes to block the glare, I scan the area for the girls. We always hang out here before classes. My eyes land on Bridget who is sitting alone across the quad.

The bomb that will be Bridget's wrath has not detonated - yet, but I know I can't avoid her forever. Sighing outwardly, I pick up my bag and force my feet to move one in front of the other towards her.

Left, right, left, right.

Like a mantra. But I falter a little when I reach the table.

"Bridget?" it comes out a question rather than as a 'hello' like I'd intended. I despise confrontation with a passion, but I need to try and make it right. I can't do nothing as much as I want to run and hide.

Her blonde head whips towards me and she smiles brightly. All bright, white teeth.

"Hey babe, come sit down. I look like such a loser sitting here alone! Vee said she'd be here but she's late."

The anxiety pressing down on my chest deflates a little, and I find myself somewhat smiling back, plonking myself down directly across from her. Either this is the calm before the storm or she doesn't know it was me.

"Urgh I just had this super hard comm class and I'm soooo over it. I swear the lecturer didn't tell us the assessment is due tomorrow," Bridget huffs.

I fake another smile. "You know, maybe they did but the fact you don't turn up to class means you miss some announcements."

"But it's sooooo boring," her lipstick red lips form into a pout. "But onto more better subjects - do you like my new outfit? I got on sale in the city."

She shimmies in her seat, flicking her hair back and forth.

"You have such great style," I say genuinely. Because the girl does. She's dressed in a ribbed crop top with a high waisted skirt that accentuates her gorgeous figure.

Suddenly a body-shaped shadow falls across the table, I squint and lift my hand to my eyes to greet Vee, a comment about her being always late on the tip of my tongue. My breath hitches when I see their face, because it's not Vee.

He sits down heavily next to Bridget, who looks to him smiling, beofore linking her arm in his.

My stomach clenches uncomfortably. 

"I thought we were having lunch alone. This is our table," he puts the emphasis on the word "our".

My hurt turns to anger quickly.

"And what a great table it is," I say, my voice dripping in sarcasm, "what do you suppose it's made of?"

I run my hand across the table top, drumming my hot pink nails on its surface.

He rolls his eyes, "Always someone hanging around you hey Bridget." 

Bridget's tinkling laugh tells me she doesn't feel the tension between her best friend and boyfriend. The air is so dense and heavy, I'm struggling to breathe. Gone is the emotional guy from the other night. Strong, yet stoic. Back is the scowling, rude asshole. I shouldn't be surprised.
Seriously, "hanging around", like I'm some groupie not good enough to sit at the 'cool kids' table.
It's been a long time since high school but I'd be lying if I said that comment didn't still cut me in a place I've tried years to bury. Logan was only was at our high school for a month, but it's clear he noticed the fact I was social leper. It literally happened overnight. The girls took a dislike to me and I was immediately black listed. It hurt like a bitch. Home life was shit and school was just as bad, but it made me stronger. And I became friends with people I'd never had gotten the chance to know if I'd stayed friends with the group that ultimately ostracized me. At 15 I'd felt so lost and completely alone. They never saw the tears I shed.

But that's all in the past now.

What really makes me uncomfortable is that he knows exactly what buttons to push.

"I was just leaving anyway," I say standing, offering a sarcastic fake smile.

Bridget blows me a kiss and I force a more genuine smile. I am the worlds worst friend.  The guilt bubbles up in my stomach like acid.

Picking up my bag, I give a small wave and  stride quickly towards the library building, putting as much distance between me and them as I can.

I'm just glad he didn't mention the text, I couldn't have handled that. Not that it's changed anything between him and Bridget.

Did I want it to?

What I really want to know is why didn't he tell Bridget I was the one to tell him. But my overwhelming need to avoid confrontation at all costs, it trumps my desire to know why.