They love with their whole hearts, they trust one another, they have faith that as long as they stick together… everything will turn out fine.
Which —I believe— is true.
They didn’t run when I told them my secret, they held on tighter.
“Why did you blame yourself?” Claire asks.
We both know what she’s talking about. “I was driving, I had my foot on the pedal when that truck hit us, I’m the one who was in control, and I let them down.”
Part of me knows it wasn’t my fault, but the other part of me doesn’t want to believe it wasjustan accident. How could I possibly believe that the world could be so cruel, be so ruthless that it rips away the most important person in my life because of anaccident?
It’s hard to wrap my head around a truth so hard to swallow that I find myself choking on it whenever I try.
And I don’t. Try, that is.
I let myself wallow in the pain, but never think of the why. I never let my mind wander enough to think about why all of this had happened because I’m too afraid of the answer.
Steph sits down on the other side of me, and I don’t need to ask if she heard everything. I know she did.
“There’s not much I do want to know,” I tell them. “If I never go looking for answers, then they can’t hurt me. It’s easier to assume that I’m the fuck up than consider the alternative.”
“You were never to blame.” Steph lays her head on my shoulder. “Nothing bad that’s happened to you is your fault, Sasha. You got the shit end of the stick, but trust me… being the cause of your own demise isn’t the better option.”
There are so many things that could mean, but my mind instantly lands on her confession.
I really fucked up when I was younger, and I don’t think my parents have ever looked at me the same.
“Want to talk about it?” I ask.
She shakes her head, “there will be a day when I decide to share, but today isn’t that day.”
Claire rests her head on my other shoulder, mirroring her best friend. “Don’t take it personally, she hasn’t told me either.”
That takes me by surprise. I didn’t think there’d be a single thing that Stephanie Saunders would keep from her best friend.
I guess secrets do still exist in this group.
If you told me three months ago that I’d be sitting across the table from Lucas St. James while he begs for my forgiveness… I’d probably have told you that you’re delusional.
And yet, here I am, sitting across the table from Lucas St. James in Estellas, while he begs for my forgiveness.
He all but jumped me when I walked out of my video game design class and asked if I had a second.
I can’t believe my first time actually sitting inside this restaurant is because he messed up and feels bad for it.
Food’s great though.
“Anyway, that’s why I’m sorry.” He looks like a kicked puppy.
I arch a brow, “why did you drag me all the way over here?”
His face scrunches in confusion, “uh, to apologize?”
I hate men.
“Yes, I know that, but why did you have to bring mehereto do it?” I pick up a fry and toss it into my mouth, “you already apologized, and I’ve already forgiven you.”
This feels like it was already resolved, it fucking hurt, but I don’t want to dwell on it.
