I Hate People

Chapter 16

I attempted to drown myself in music and dank memes on tumblr and instagram while staring out the musty bus window at cookie cutter suburban homes in little villages like the one I live in. 

The large, gaping, aching pit in my stomach was nonetheless still painstakingly prevalent to me and also Blaize. She had called multiple times this weekend to only have her call declined as soon as it was noticed by me in a haste.

Even worse Blaize had shown up at my house late Sunday, dressed in her proper attire. (otherwise known as fuzzy pajama pants, mismatched socks and a blue tank top) 

I hid in my room, in the closet and acted as if I wasn't home for the entire, terribly stressful 15 minutes she stayed there trying to find me by investigating my little sister who luckily didn't know I was even home.

She most likely didn't really need anything important like school work or passwords but got frustrated after failed calls, facetimes, texts, and even emails that she had to know I was ignoring.

But today was the day I could no longer shut out the world and pretend I simply didn't exist under a pile of double chocolate ice cream and blankets. The bus came to a screeching stop right before it hit the bus in front of it as usual.

Everyday I jumped as we halted but I was emotionless today and I knew I had to keep a cold face to get through a Blaize style interrogation. 

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I gripped my green, floral lunchbox till my knuckles turned white and tried to get lost in the forever endless sea of disappointing students jumping up to grab the tops of doorways and texting away quickly to people literally across from them.

I knew I couldn't simply sit somewhere else. While we were allowed to sit wherever we wanted, people sit in the same place everyday so there would be no seats left. I meekly walked over to the table and sat down in front of Blaize. 

"What the hell happened to you this weekend?! Did you just fall off the gridlock? I went to your house on Sunday!"

I gulped and kept my eyes down.

"Sorry, my family wanted me to go to one of Camila's piano recitals" I was failing epicly, stuttering and turning red, avoiding eye contact. My struggle was completely comical. I have always been red as a tomato when trying to lie.

"Tell me right now, Olive what is the problem?!" 

I sat in silence. Ignoring her and eating quietly. If she had planned the whole thing then I didn't want to talk to her about it and even if she hadn't I didn't want to admit I liked someone. Especially someone she knew.

I'm sure she's go on a year long mission of trying to get us together which would end with both of us frustrated. 

She continued to interrogate me and I plead my "fifth amendment right" to make no self incriminating statements. Or whatever Blaize said to her ex that one time they were fighting.

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I sat in the computer lab behind rusty, still box shaped computer number 18. I was typing my argumentative essay on cyberbullying. I of course had chosen to argue for the fact that cyberbullies should be legally punished the same as regular bullies. Even though I felt so strongly on this topic I had only managed to type a few words at the top. I could feel his presence behind me. He was typing and looking over at me like a sad puppy and sighing occasionally.

I was not going to let anything lure me back into even talking to him at all. Or thinking of him. I was going to recover so well nobody would even remember.

I had totally convinced myself I would hold true to this solemn promise until I died. But suddenly I wasn't quite so sure and he signed out of his computer, packed up and started walking over to me.