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apology

I made sure I was well dressed. To impress the girl I had wronged.

I went to school early. I just wanted the moment to come quickly, the opportunity to present itself. And then, everything would happen slowly. Like in the Disney films Kelsey used to watch when she was 10.

"This is why he left the crew. He didn't have any other choice." Tad and Sam spoke as they walked over to me. I was leaning on a locker, waiting impatiently.

"Hey, dude."

"Men. My men. "

We did our usual fist bumps.

Just as the others arrived and they were exchanging their usual, I spotted Emilia's hair. She shook it from side to side as she put up her head to take her book from her locker.

"Here comes your suicide mission, bro."

I ignored them and made my way.

"Good morning, Emily."

"Oh, hey! Ethan." She flashed me a bright smile.

"I...." I trailed off. I began rubbing the back of my neck again. "I'm sorry."

She half-frowned. "For?"

"Yesterday."

"What happened?" She closed her locker and gave me her full attention.

She didn't even notice? Could she not feel the tension I was feeling? The tension between us?

Or she wasn't angry at all? Like Tony said?

"I gave a promise I couldn't fulfill."

"What promise was that?"

I mentally face-palmed. If she couldn't even remember the deal, then she doesn't think about me. Not even one bit.

"The deal we had on Saturday. In your apartment."

"Oh yeah. Sorry I forgot. But to be frank, it's no big deal actually. Why would I be angry?"

"I just thought that you badly wanted to go with me."

"No. Why would I? True I was happy to go with you, but your decision remains yours, Ethan. I can't force what's your decision."

She's basically telling you she doesn't want to go anywhere with you. See what you caused.

"You're not angry? I can make up."

"No, no. It's fine, actually. I was good."

"I still want to make up. Busy after school?"

"Not sure."

"Maybe we could-"

Fuck the bell. She just disappeared. Cut me off in the middle of nowhere.
This girl is just a topic. A vast topic.

Emily

"Emilia Harte. Have a seat please."

"Thank you ma'am."

"Why I called you in was because I was going through the student files and academic reports of the previous years as per the wish of the Vice Chancellor, and we just realized that you have the best grades in UCLA. On her behalf, good job there."

"Thank you, ma'am."

Mrs. Rockingham, the Vice Chancellor, and the Dean, Mrs. Brookewall, never appreciated anything. I was so glad. Receiving an appreciation from them was some sort of Jackpot because you could get anything you wanted from the Vice Chancellor with just green grades.