The Misunderstanding of Fate

Chapter 8 - Friendless

When you have only one person to answer to, it's very easy to justify your every choice or action. I know my reasons, my thought process, the pros and cons, and my father rarely questions anything I do. Plus, I doubt he would be interested in my decisions regarding George.

That's why, at first, ignoring him came easy. Turning in the opposite direction seemed natural. Pretending he wasn't speaking to me felt normal. And, sometimes, when I did doubt myself, I pictured Walter, my dungarees, or my crying father. Those mental images were enough to erase any doubts and become refilled with avoidance energy.

Now, initially there were many reasons for this decision.

Firstly, I personally hadn't really decided to pursue a friendship with George. That was all on him. Did I become... intrigued in the moment? Yes. Was he confusing? Yes. He was exactly the same and yet very different to what I had imagined.

Secondly, if I hadn't been with him on Saturday then I wouldn't have ended the night covered in his drink. I wouldn't even know who Walter was.

Thirdly, he was violent and frustrating and dangerous and intimidating all at the same time. That should be enough reasoning on its own and yet here I am defending my decisions.

Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, there was something about me being out of the house on Saturday that had reduced my father to tears. I hadn't left him on a weekend in months and, rightfully, that was very emotional for him. Before my mother left, they would have spent Saturday night together or we would have done something as a family. After she walked out, I was overly aware of his loneliness and found myself pulling back from friends to spend more time with dad in the house.

So, ignoring people was normal for me. Pulling back and letting relationships naturally drift apart was normal for me. It meant that I wouldn't be out of the house, I wouldn't be involved in dramatic situations, and I wouldn't have to leave my dad alone. Like everyone else, George would soon give in, realise we would never speak again, and I'd go back to spending days off with my best friend.

Pros? No crying father. No lonely father. No feeling intimidated or scared. No being forced into situations I wasn't sure I wanted to be in. No lack of control. I could go back to my safety and comfort zone.

Cons? So far, George hadn't given in. After two weeks of constant ignoring, he remains staring at me, or trying to grab my skirts to pull us together, or giving angry speeches. He'd take the books out of my hand, reach for a piece of my hair, and sit whenever I sat. I'd find myself exhausted at the end of every day because of the amount of effort it took to avoid and ignore him. Even the bench I had branded as my own wasn't a safe space anymore.

On top of that, I was surprised. Why was he so, so angry? Why was he so frustrated by my decision to stop talking to him? It's not like we had spent loads of time together or that I knew his deepest, darkest secrets. Why couldn't he accept that our very short friendship had reached its natural end? Honestly, he didn't seem the type to become this wrapped up in a friendship-thats-not-a-friendship. From what I had seen so far, he kept his circle small and didn't venture very far from it. Just last week, I watched as a boy approached him with a football and asked if he wanted to join in on their game. George had just scoffed and turned so his back faced the stranger. I was flushed in embarrassment for the boy who just wanted to be nice and make a new friend. So why wasn't he letting this go? I couldn't completely understand him.

When the third week of avoidance comes around, my mood has hit a new low and I'm feeling an internal shift. Dad has been working more hours since the crying incident which hasn't helped with the George situation at all. Now, I was ignoring the only person who had tried to talk to me in this new town, exhausted at the end of each day because of it, and had no one to turn to in the house.