“Cara!” Just as I am about to enter the cafeteria, I hear my name called out from behind me; I recognize Dylan’s voice. I pause for a moment, just long enough to summon a smile to my face.
“Hi, Dylan,” I say when I turn around.
“Are you busy…”
I stop Dylan before he can finish his sentence. I am afraid that I know what he is going to say; Chris had mentioned something to me this morning… something about a second date with Dylan. Chris didn’t say it outright in those words and he had not made any sense this morning, but now I can see where Dylan’s question is about to end.
“You’re fun to be around,” he continues, even though I was still taking steps back from him and shaking my head. “And I was wondering…”
I yank on his arm, pulling him away from the cafeteria. I let go of his arm, but continue to walk down the hall, knowing that he will follow. I keep walking, weaving through the crowds of people headed towards lunch and class. I stop once we reach a place we can talk without an audience.
“Look, Dylan…” I struggle to find the words I need to say. “Dylan… I’m so sorry.”
He stares at me, confused.
“I am really sorry. About all this. If you… if you were about to ask me… It’s just… this isn’t going to work. Whatever this is. I’m sorry.” I keep apologizing. I wonder if it might be better if I didn’t say sorry. Maybe, by saying sorry, I’m making a bigger deal out of this than is warranted.
I watch him watch me, and I hate that I can see the hurt in his eyes; it’s scary to realize I have power over the emotions of someone I hardly even know. Even though we were not dating, we barely talked in person, and we only texted a little, this is high school and everything is a big deal.
Unable to stand there and wait for his reaction any longer, I quickly make my escape, running, literally running, down the hall. I debate whether to hide in the bathroom or meet my friends in the cafeteria. I have no reason to hide, I tell myself. I don’t want anyone to think I’m actually upset about this, because I’m not; I just feel guilty. Still, I look longingly at the girls’ bathroom door, but ultimately I force myself to keep moving past it.
I stop before I cross the threshold of the room of eating teenagers. The noise is thunderous, even from outside the room. I take a few deep breaths, gather my thoughts, and walk towards my friends.
“Where have you been?” Cynthia asks as I slip into my vacant seat.
“We thought you were skipping class.” Ash said. “We saw you and Dylan disappear…” she wiggles her eyebrows.
Well, I suppose I have to tell her now, or she’ll just continue making wild assumptions.
“I just told Dylan I was done doing whatever we were doing.”
“What?” Cynthia asks, confused.
“Like, you mean you broke up?” Ashley asks.
I shrug. “We weren’t even dating.”
“You went on a date,” Cynthia points out.
“Yes.” I say, acknowledging that fact that Cynthia’s last statement is true. “I did go on one date with Dylan. But I was never dating him.”
“You could sort of say you were ‘seeing’ him.”
I shrug again.
“It’s not a big deal. It really isn’t. But I don’t really want to talk about it at the moment. So, can we maybe just eat and not mention Dylan’s name?”
Ashley shrugs, but doesn’t argue with me. Instead, she picks up her cellphone and starts typing away on it.
Cynthia points out “you just said his name.”
I sigh, sarcastically, but with a twinge of honest emotion. “Yes I did. I wanted to make sure we were all clear about who we were no longer going to talk about.”
This conversation probably wouldn’t have even annoyed me if it wasn’t for the annoyance I already had from dealing with Dylan. But as it is, I am not in a great mood, so I allow Cynthia and Ashley to go back to talking and laughing with their other friends but and I don’t try to engage in any of the conversation.
--
“Breakups call for ice cream,” Ashley announces, ambushing me after school.
It is not actually a breakup if nothing happened.
“It wasn’t a breakup,” I remind her, gently, as I put my textbooks into my locker.
“It was a breakup. Just admit it. The first step is admitting that there was a relationship.”
I sigh. “There was a casual, one-date relationship, and now it is over. That is correct.”
“It would be faster to call it a breakup, but whatever.” Ashley takes a break to type a message on her phone. Then, she returns to our conversation. “Anyways, there’s a scoop of Rocky Road waiting with your name on it. All the topping you could want, too.”
“I’m not really in the mood for ice cream.”
She stares at me, as if I have four heads. “Fine. Do you know what breakups really call for?”
“What do non-event breakups call for? Do tell.”
“Alcohol.”
I give her a look. We are not exactly the going out, partying type.
“You have alcohol?” I ask. Ashley’s mom is strict, and I happen to know she searches her daughter’s room for any sort of contraband.
“Not me, but Ben Brown does. He’s having a party tonight and we are invited.”
I hesitate, not really in the mood for a party. The last one I attended resulted in me ‘dating’ Dylan for an unfortunate number of days.
“Come on, don’t be lame. You need a rebound.” I give her a stern look. “Or at least a drink or two.”
I sigh. Since I don’t have anything better to do tonight, I decide to go. I would like to experience one more high school party before I cross them off my list for good. “Fine. What time will you pick me up?”
She grins. “That’s the spirit! 9 sound good?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
“See ya then!” Ashley says, and then turns and hurries off to find one of her other friends. I walk in the opposite direction, towards the parking lot, hoping that my brother was patient enough to wait for me.
YOU ARE READING
Once Again
Teen FictionI have always been defined in terms of my twin sister. For thirteen years, I was known as Allison’s lookalike. For the past three years, I have been the twin that survived. I am forever the twin that did not die. ---- When she was 13 years old, Cara...
