||My Invisible Wound||

||Had Enough||

     c h a p t e r | s e v e n

     "Hey, wait up, Alysha!" Jake announced as I started walking to the parking lot of the school. With a sigh, I turned around and saw him getting caught up. "So I thought you were going on the bus?"

      I shrugged as we continued to walk. "Elyes took his parents' car to school for once; he was going to drive me."

      "Huh," he began. "Where is he?" Jake looked around the parking lot in hopes to find him.

      "He told me that he's talking with Mr. Kim for a second, about his English project."

      Jake nodded his head. "Oh, okay." I saw the white van and decided to lean up against it as I stared at Jake. "So how are you?"

      "Okay," I said. "You?"

      "I feel better now that I'm with you."

      "You're cheesy . . . and cliché." I chuckled. "You have an issue with being cheesy; did cheese take over your brain?" I decided to be a bit happier than I usually was. I couldn't be depressed all the time, especially when everyone asked if I was okay. Such an annoying question to depressed people, I thought.

      He laughed as he leaned against the van, standing next to me. "No. I don't know what it is, honestly. I've had a hard time in trying to talk to you like a normal person."

      "Why?" It was a simple question, especially since there was no reason to be weird around me.

      "I don't know, you know?" He shrugged.

      "Uh . . . I don't know."

      He sighed, looking toward the sky. He put his hands in front of his chest and curled them into the shapes of a "C," and shook them around as he talked. His eyes stared at the ground. "I just don't want you to feel uncomfortable around me—"

      "You already blew that shot." I smiled when he looked up at me.

      "Really?" he said. "I know this entire transition is quick—"

      "You don't say—"

      "And I'm sorry for how long it has taken me to confess to you—"

      I crossed my arms. "Uh-huh. Yeah—"

      "Will you stop that?"

      "Stop what?" I grinned once more.

      "Interrupting me with sarcastic comments." His eyebrows rose while his head tilted to the side.

      Sighing, I said, "I'm going out of my way to trust you, to be my friend. Elyes hates you—we both see that clearly—but it shouldn't have taken this long for you to grow some balls."

      "Don't you dare say anything bad about my balls," he said, looking insulted. But he couldn't keep a straight face, and laughed. "Look," he added, trying to breathe through his constant laughter. "I shouldn't have done what I did—"

      "No, you shouldn't have."

      "How can I be more of a friend?"

      I thought for a second. What could make him more of a friend rather than a creep who acted too nice? "Stop caring so much." It was the best answer I could come up with. People needed to stop caring so much about my feelings. I knew it was stupid of me, because all I would whine about was how no one cared. So why was I telling someone who did care, not care?