Authors: Courtney Noel
“Eh, I don’t know if ‘weird’ is the correct word. Maybe just...?”
“Weird? Yes. Keep me updated.”
“With what?”
“Both of them.”
Cynthia’s crazy sometimes. I mean Kade and I don’t like each other, but I don’t think we’d hurt each other. Then again, we don’t know each other. I would never physically hurt someone. But maybe she’s talking about mentally? I’ve hurt many people mentally, but many people have hurt me, too. I don’t feel sorry, at least I don’t feel sorry for the people who don’t deserve to be felt sorry for.
I look over at Kade. There are bags under his eyes, and since he’s been crying it’s worse. I sigh, fluff my pillow, and then lay my pillow and my head down on the middle seat. My pony tail is inches away from Kade’s leg. I try to relax and fall asleep, but the feeling that’s radiating off Kade’s leg and into my hair is not making it easy.
Back to after we moved in
Kade’s stuff.
Kade and I are sitting on opposite sides of the couch in the living room. My arms are crossed over my chest and his arms are on the back side of the couch, resting calmly. My mom and dad are standing up in front of us. My dad looks at my mom and my mom looks straight back at him. They can’t figure out what to say.
“Let me make this easier for you guys so I can get out of here,” I say. “No sleeping in the same room, no interacting passed eleven. I don’t know, anything else that’s completely ridiculous because Kade and I are not going to be anywhere near each other,” I say.
“Um. Well. Hm... okay?” My dad feels his scruff, his ultimate thinking face. I snicker.
“Thanks, Becc, for that. I’ve been here for like thirty minutes and I already feel the love,” Kade says as he hugs himself and makes these googily eyes. I roll my own eyes.
“Are we done here?” I run my fingers through my perfect blonde hair and sigh.
“Not quite.” My dad sits down in the couch across from Kade and me.
“Babe we are just getting started.” Kade leans back thinking he’s the total shit. Which is kinda the total opposite. He spreads open his legs, which are covered by navy blue warm-up pants. He’s also wearing a cream colored sweatshirt with black shoes. Vans. I look down at my feet. Why did I have to wear my white Vans today? I mean, I do NOT want to be matching my new “roomie.” Chillax, Becca; they’re just shoes.
“Alright, so what ‘rules’ do you want to set then, dad?” I look up at him, ignoring Kade’s asshole comment. Scratch that. Kade’s comment shouldn’t even be called an “asshole comment” considering every single freaking thing coming out of his ugly mouth is an asshole comment. So basically, I ignored more of the stupid crap that came out of Kade’s mouth, as usual.
“Well, we weren’t thinking about you and Kade, per say, but more of your friends.” Obviously, Kade hasn’t told anyone. Neither have I. People should be worried about Kade and me. Well, they used to be worried about us. Now, I could care less. Four years ago, when Kade and I were thirteen, Kade kissed me. I kissed him back, and it was nice. Afterwards, he didn’t even look me in the eye when we were in the same room. I’ve been pissed at him ever since.
“You think I would sleep with one of HIS friends?” I am appalled. Scratch that. I am horrified. Is horrified a worse adjective then appalled? Probably not. But whatever, you get the gist.
“See, you wouldn’t sleep with my friends because anything to do with me, you don’t like. I would bang any one of your friends, especially Chasity. She’s the hot one.” Kade winks at me. I want to punch him. Right in his crystal clear green fucking eyes, and give him a black eye so the girls at school are no longer distracted by the dreamy green ones.
“You stay away from Chasity, or I’ll punch your face in. Remember buddy, you are at my house now, so watch it.” I glare at him and he snickers at me. Gosh. I don’t think I can handle all this.
“Kade. Becca. Calm down. Now, Kade, your mom and dad left you here trusting David and me to treat you just like we treat Becca – like our child. Make sure you keep that in mind, because you live here now. Don’t screw up too much. As for you, Becca, honey you need to chill. I don’t know what you have against Kade and I’m not sure I want to know, but just cool it.” I snicker when I look at Kade and see that he is already looking at me with that half smile. When he sees that I look over, he raises his eye brows twice then makes a big show of licking his lips.
I give my mom that look that asks “are we done here?” then she says: “Okay, good meeting.” I let go of the breath I realize I am holding, stomp down the hall, and all the way up the stairs then into my room. I slam the door and jump onto my bed and land on my stomach. I slam my head into my pillow and let out a big scream on the top of my lungs. Then I get up, reach over my stuffed animals, and grab my book off my desk. It’s time to see if that couple ever gets back together.
Chapte
r 2: <--Breaking
“You’re so selfish, Becca. You only think about yourself. It’s sick. If you really cared about me, you would stop talking to him. Everyone on this earth, even Chasity, doesn’t like Chase. I recommend you stop thinking about yourself and think about how your relationship with Chase is hurting other people. Besides, best friends come first before boyfriends, you know that. Unless, you know, you’re having another one of your bitch moments and I’m not your best friend anymore. Stop being so freaking selfish and actually think about me for once.”
I know it doesn’t seem like he’s such a great friend. The guy that wrote the message above. But, see, he was such an amazing friend. At one point I thought he was one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I know what you’re thinking, “how could your so called ‘best friend’ talk to you like that?” But it’s not as easy as you think. And I know now you’re thinking “let me guess, one of those ‘it’s complicated’ thing? Sounds like a movie to me. I doubt it’s ‘that complicated.’” But, it is. So cut me some slack.
That message above, is the first mean thing someone ever said to me, that I actually 100% believed. He was my best friend, why would I not believe him? He was supposed to tell me all my flaws, so I could work on them, but I think that was a little too harsh.
Chapter 3
: Healing -->
I’m coming back up the stairs, passing Kade’s room to get to mine with celery and peanut butter in my mouth. I don’t know what Kade is doing, or if his room’s door is even open. I don’t want to look, so I don’t. I hear Kade’s door open right when I’m about to close mine.
“Becc?” I whip my head around to find Kade standing in his doorway. He took off his cream sweatshirt and is now wearing a gray t-shirt.
“Don’t call me that.” I scowl at him. He is the only one that calls me that. To tell you the truth, I love it when he does. It’s a Kade comforter.
“Look, I’m sorry. I was thirteen and stupid and nervous. I had no idea what the hell I was doing.”
“Go shove your face where it’s wanted.” I glare at him then turn around and slam my door shut, right in his face. Funny thing is, I actually believed we were going to be like a couple or something. It was our freshman year. I was stupid and I thought I was in love. Screw him. I hear Kade sigh then put his hands on my door. Before I know it the handle is twisting and my door is opening. No, no, no. But yes. Kade comes over to my bed and sits next to me.
“Look, Becc, since I’m living here now I really don’t want things to be angry between us all the time,” Kade says as his eyes find mine. His green eyes are the perfect green. And I mean perfect. It’s not that bright green, but it’s not the dark hazel green, either. It’s perfectly in the middle. His eyes are soft and warm.
“Look, Kade,” I say starting my sentence out the way he did, just to piss him off. “You’re a little late.” I pat his knee then get up and start out the door. Wait, why the fuck am I leaving my own room.
“I’m sorry I was such a dick to you. But come on, we were thirteen. You have to get over it.” Kade gets up and walks over, meeting me under the doorway. He puts his hands on the top of the door way, since he can reach it. He lets his body lean on his arms and his torso leans forward. I back away a little; I don’t want him too close to me. It makes me nervous.
“Fine.”
“Really that’s it?” He looks surprised that I let him off the hook so easily. I didn’t.
“Well, yeah, I guess. I mean, now that you live here, I don’t want you to ruin my life even more than you already did.” I shrug. “Plus, I kind of want to live happily in my own home for goodness sake. I’m not a fan of fighting with people, not even my parents. But let’s get one rule straight. You knock on my door if you want to come in. Heck, don’t even come in at all, mkay?”.” I cross my hands over my chest and look up at him. He looks from my eyes to my chest.
I sigh then put my hands back to my sides, realizing that if they are crossed over my chest it makes my boobs push out over my shirt. “Perv,” I say as I walk downstairs after hearing my mom call us to dinner. I hear Kade chuckle behind me as he follows me down the stairs. When I get into the kitchen two plates filled with steak, refried beans, tortillas, and rice are on the middle island.
I grab my plate and walk out of the kitchen, into the living room, and sit down on my favorite couch. Kade sits down on the couch next to mine and I turn on the TV. Kade looks around one side, then the other, then in back of him.
“Where’s your mom and dad?” He looks at me, then at the TV, and then back at me. I look at him and sigh. He talks too much sometimes. I mean I know we called a truce back in my room, but he still annoys me. Plus, I’m tired. I get cranky when I’m tired. I get it from my dad. When we don’t get enough sleep, we’re complete bitches about everything. Or when I don’t eat, expect to be cussed out.
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind. You don’t have to seem like it takes an effort of lifting one hundred pounds of weight to talk to me.” He throws a hand up in the air and lets it slam onto the couch arm rest.
“I’m sorry I’m just tired, and what do you mean where are my parents?” I slump down deeper into the couch, then take my knife, and cut my steak.
“Exactly that. Where are they?” He squints his eyes at me like it’s not rocket science. Like one of those looks where they mean “Why are you asking such a stupid question, dumbass?”
“Well, as you saw just three minutes ago, my mom was just in the kitchen, so she’s obviously somewhere in the house. I’m sure my dad is out for a run,” I say as I look back at him with that same squinted-eye look. He’s the idiot now.
“They don’t eat?”
“Well, like I said, my dad is out for a run and you can’t eat before a run. He will eat when he gets back. My mom just eats super late, like around eight o’clock. I am always hungry so I eat as soon as possible.” I skip through the channels on cable, trying to find a good TV show to watch. I usually watch cooking shows on the Food Network, but I don’t think Kade will really enjoy that.
“Do you mind if I watch Food Network? There’s this show I recorded and I haven’t gotten a chance to watch it.” I look over at Kade and he’s stuffing his face with steak and a tortilla.
“Sure, I don’t really have a big opinion on TV shows,” he says as he gets up from the couch to get a second round of food. It’s weird how comfortable he is in my house. When he’s hungry, he just gets up and gets himself food. He doesn’t have to ask where the restroom is. He doesn’t feel uncomfortable getting himself seconds. It’s weird.
I turn on one of my favorite shows on the Food Network, called Chopped, and listen to the four chefs competing against each other; they introduce themselves. One chef is from New York, one from Wisconsin, one from California, and the last from Pennsylvania. Usually, to me it seems that the ones from New York always win.
“Don’t you wish they ate with you?” He asks.
“I don’t really care. I’ve always just eaten alone, it’s not a big deal.”
“Don’t you get lonely?”
“I like being alone.” I say sternly. He gets that he should change the subject.
“So, why Food Network?” I look over. Yep, Kade’s definitely talking to me. Should I answer truthfully or not?
“Because, I like learning about food. But, see, I don’t like eating food, so this is perfect. I’m around food but not eating it.” I shrug my shoulders and pay attention to my show. The first round is the appetizer round. Each chef has to prepare an appetizer for the three judges in twenty minutes. Whoever’s appetizer the judges don’t like is the person that gets kicked off the show first.
“You don’t like food?” He looks at me like I’m absolutely insane. It’s basically like I just said I don’t like puppies, yet I have two.
“No, don’t get me wrong. I LOVE food. I mean, who doesn’t? I just don’t like eating it.” Again, I shrug it off my shoulders. No big deal.
“Wait, why don’t you like eating food?” Man, can he just drop it? Like seriously.
I sigh. “Because. Eating food makes you fat.”
“Excuse me?”
“You asked. I gave you an honest answer. You don’t like my answer? Don’t ask the questions you don’t want to hear the answer to. Simple.” People always ask me questions. I’m not one to give bull shit bullshit answers. So when I answer, they always fucking hate my answers. They’re the ones who asked me the stupid question, and then they’re disappointed with the answer. Don’t ask the questions you don’t really want to hear the answer to. Everyone always asks the questions they’re not mentally prepared to hear the answer to. Just because we are humans and always curious and butting into people’s privacy. It drives me crazy.
I roll my eyes, then get up, and walk into the kitchen without looking back.
Too bad I hear him following me. “Becc, eating food does not make you fat.”
“Oh, yeah, then fat people are just fat because of nothing.”
“Look. Becc, if you eat constantly, non-stop, then you get fat, but hon, I think it would be practically impossible for you to get fat. You’re an athlete, for one, and you have the most perfect body to top it off. I don’t want to hear ANYTHING related to the sentence ‘I’m getting fat,’ come out of your mouth, Becc.”
I just stare at him in awe. My brain goes blank and my knees turn to jello. Basically the only thing I caught was “perfect body.” I know he can tell I’m totally going blank so all he does is come over to me, squeeze my hand that is resting on the kitchen counter, then heads back upstairs with a piece of tortilla in his mouth.
What just...what...what did...oh gosh I’m losing it. What did he say, again?