Wrong Side Of The Bed

16 | it's nice to have a friend.

CHRISTIAN'S P.O.V

I MADE TO-DO LISTS EVERYDAY. The fact that I never stuck to them was completely different and irrelevant. But today, I was completely and utterly determined to finish the one and only thing written on my to-do list in my pocket journal — in red ink and all capitals, and was circled and even underlined thrice, with three exclamation marks at the end — make a friend !!!

Since Ava came back in my life, things had changed drastically for me — no more after school hangouts at mine or Lucas' or at Think Coffee. If, on the rare occasion that we did end up going to the cafe, of course, Ava tagged along — with her bitter and malevolent words. And when Lucas hadn't done anything serious about it, I knew I had become too dependent on the only person I had a proper friendship with — Lucas. Of course, he had his own life. I couldn't really think that he would spend all his time with me like always, could I?

So here I was, facing the school hallway which was washed in a sea of students, my pocket journal open in my hands, and only one sentence ringing in my head — make a friend. I needed to stop expecting everything there is about friendship from Lucas alone, and find someone else — someone whom my brain would like enough to produce some semblance of serotonin.

My heart throbbed a little at the fact that Lucas wasn't here beside me, like always, walking to the class with me. Every Wednesday, we had AP Calculus together in the first period. But I hadn't seen him today, at all. I got a phone call from him yesterday, a shoulder clap and ten minutes of talk during lunch on Monday, and seventeen messages from him on Sunday. He was drifting away, and I didn't know how to hold onto him, and not only that, but I also didn't know how to fucking swim, so I had to find another friend real soon to fill the gaping void that had unfurled itself in my chest and was dangerously close to flooding everything in path.

Lonely. That's what I felt right now, standing in the thick of the sea of these sweaty high school kids. And then, my eyes trained on my fake girlfriend, walking down the hallways like she owned it — and people did actually move out of her way. Adrienne said something to Walter and she laughed, and Estelle rolled her eyes — so it was probably something on her behalf. 

So naturally, I jogged towards her.

"Hey babe," I said, flashing her a huge grin. Her mouth quivered as she probably restrained herself from punching me in the face before she replied.

"Ugh, hey."

"This tension is too much," Estelle murmured before nodding at me and then at Walter. "I can't stand it. Seeing you two being cute together — while I have nothing but the memory of embarrassing myself in front of my crush — sickens me to my stomach."

"Where is the ginger boy?" Adrienne asked, slamming her locker door shut before turning to spare me a glance. "Why is he not joined at the hip with you today?"

"He, uh, has his businesses to run."

"You mean he is with that malicious spirit," Adrienne replied.

"Yes."

"Well, that's lovely, but you should go now, Sinclair. Shoo." Walter piped in, giving me a quick, saccharine smile — tugging back on the big red bow headband which finely complimented the little side bun she was sporting. My mouth curved into a smile. Of course she would wear that ridiculously attention seeking headband. 

"Stop smiling like that at me," She said, frowning. "And move. I don't want people to think that I like you."

"You do like me," I pointed out. "That's why we are fake dating."