Reality

Chapter 4

"Cool! Progress. But I heard an 'almost',"

"You did hear an almost," I agreed. Zoe squinted at me with her haunting black eyes before throwing herself back with a groan, exasperated.

"Why 'almost'?"

I frowned. "What do you mean, 'why almost'?" I shrieked. "It's worse knowing that I'm even telling you this."

She ignored my little fit and clasped her hands together. "Why 'almost'?"

  I watched her face, trying to find a hidden meaning in her question. But there was none. It was raw with curiosity and confusion.

  I sighed and began to recount the events that took place leading up to the almost-kiss. Zoe's face displayed everything she felt inside. It morphed from impressed to disappointed, but not for the same reason that I was.

"It's bad enough that he's finding his mate in less than a week," I mumbled into my hands. "He'll never forgive me. How can I like my best friend? It's basically illegal. I'm so, so, stupid."

"Nobody ever said it was illegal," she pointed out. I shook my head and slammed my hands down on the table.

"That's not the point! The point is... Is that..."

"The point is what?"

  I pressed my lips, unsure of my own point. The point is that I'm not good enough for him. That I screwed up his chance with his mate. That I was desperate, but I don't know what for. That he might not like me back. That I've lost him-

"Do you even have a point?"

I swallowed, thinking about her words. I met her gaze and shook my head.

"Then why are you stressing so much? You like him-"

"But I can't," I said firmly. She quirked a brow.

"Why not?"

"It's common knowledge that he'll have a mate, Zoe. A mate that's not me."

"You don't know that," she argued, but she sounded uncertain. I took that as my opportunity to prove the newfound point that I had pathetically come across.

"But I do, Zoe. I'm a human, for goodness sake. We're not meant to be."

"You don't know that,"

I wasn't even fighting for a valid reason. I just needed to be right.

"I do-"

"You're always telling me how appearances don't matter. That's one of the sole reasons that we're friends. So why does type matter all of a sudden? Do you know how hypocritical that is?"

  She had begun to raise her voice towards the end and I could feel the power embedded in each word. I hung my head.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. She inhaled deeply, hand to her forehead in frustration. I couldn't blame her. I was frustrated with myself, too.

"I just don't understand what's wrong," she chuckled. "You like him. You've realised that you always had. Maybe you even love him," she laughed when I glared at her.

"Not funny,"

"It would be cute. Putting away all this negativity- think of it. You guys are best friends and neighbours."

  I didn't answer. I didn't want to talk about dumb fantasies and cliches. I wanted to talk about reality. I wanted to talk about the fact that I had forbidden feelings that he might not return. I had a selfish hope that he would even though I was supposed to want the opposite. Zoe sighed into the silence.