This is the Season Where We Do Things- Short stories and One Shots

You and I (2nd Person Short Story thingy thing) Part 1 of 3

You stop dead in your tracks, anxiously stomping a foot and sighing. "Are you even listening?" you say, tightening your grip on the strap of the green messenger bag lazily hanging on your shoulder. I let out a sigh to match. 

"Sorry... I'm sort of caught up in my head today," I respond, checking your face for signs of anger or annoyance. But surprisingly, you keep a straight face before placing a hand on my shoulder.

You take a deep breath before quickly starting,"Is it because of your-" I shoot you a look and you quickly stop converstaion. You know what's been bothering me. We've been friends since grade school, and you know what's been happening. "Are you alright?" You ask, tilting your head and smiling your crooked smile that make your eyes do the sparkle thing. 

"I'm okay, really," I lie, adjusting my hold on my school bag.

"I'll try to properly listen to your story on Monday... Right now, I want to get home," I say to your feet. You nod, and I watch a smile creep onto your lips. 

"Why not tomorrow?! I'll come over, if that's okay. We can do our homework together. Sounds like a plan?"  you say, the smile still dancing on your lips. I go to decline, but the wrong words leave my mouth.

"Sure, anytime," I smile the simper I've grown used to. It looks the most genuine. 

That of course was a lie. You know about my father and what he does. You know I'm lying. You know I'm lying right? That I've been lying to you? That I'm not okay, I'm not okay, I'm not fine, I'm really not okay. 

"Awesome! What time should I come over?" You ask, never misplacing your smile.

"Noon," I say quickly. That's the best time. The safest time. 

"I'll be there," you say, turning. 

"Don't be late," I whisper, but you don't hear me.

You're leaving me for the 4368th time.

I know because I counted.

I know because I remembered.

I know because I hate you.