The doorbell woke me at an ungodly hour. I lay motionless for a while, before remembering that my parents were away (weren't they always?) so there was only me to answer the door.
As I opened the door, I had my 'No thank you, but I appreciate your time' speech ready for whatever car/insurance/furniture salesmen was there.
Unfortunately, I wasn't that lucky.
Jace, Maria, Avery, Chiara, Matt, Caleb and Anna were assembled on the too-small porch. "What are you doing here?" I groaned.
"Babe, this is an intervention."
Ugh, it was too damn early.
-8-
"You still haven't cleared away his bed?!" Avery said incredulously, pointing towards the pillows and comforter that was still on my couch.
I have to say, this intervention was pretty well organised. The guys came as back-up and had gone and raided my refridgerator, while the girls dealed with all the soppy stuff they didn't want to get involved in.
Anna gave me a scrutinising look. "And are you wearing his shirt?!"
"No." I lied. But I was - a plain blue one, matched with one of my white and grey flannel pants.
"That's it." Maria said, then hurled something at me.
"What -" I raised an eyebrow as I identified the garment "a Wonderbra, really?"
"You don't really need it, but it's an awesome confidence boost."
Then Anna gave me a pile of clothes and pushed me into the bathroom, while the others methodically stripped my bedroom back to normal. I yanked the scrunchie out of the low-maintenance pony I had tied it into, then took a quick shower.
After, I dried off and took the clothes Anna had given me. I didn't look at the clothes as I put them on, so I didn't see what I was wearing until I caught a glance of myself in the floor length mirror. Metallic dark gold dress with a black floral pattern in some lace-like material over it, and and a tiny column of buttons in a thin column to the slightly cinched waist. There was an assortment of accessories that she must have found in my jewellery box, and gold heeled peeptoes from my closet.
But that's not what caught my attention. My eyes were dull, and there were huge dark bags underneath. Looking at my reflection, I smiled experimentally; it was an uncomfortable movement and my jaw felt stiff.
"Hurry up Skye!" I heard Maria shout, when I stepped out she gave me an odd look "And why is your cell in the trash?"
"Because that's where I put it." I said, then sighed at her expression. "Because I didn't want to read my texts or answer any calls."
"Part of moving on is facing up to the past."
"Shut up," I said immaturely, pouting. "Besides, it's only been two weeks and half, why does everyone expect me to have moved on?"
Chiara smiled comfortingly at me. "We don't expect you to have moved one. But this moping about, crying-"
"I haven't been crying." I lied.
She carried on as if I hadn't spoken "-Watching bad chick flicks and barely even talking is not good for you. And as for moving on, you should at least make a start." She handed me my cell face-up.
23 missed calls.
28 new messages.
Most were from Gale, but there were a couple from friends I'd neglected recently. I couldn't bring myself to read any of his texts, though I could guess what they said - 'we should talk', 'sorry' and all that other crap that I could deal with right now.
