Pedestrian |✓

|40| c a s s e r o l e

Never before in my life that I imagined that I'll be filled with dread with the idea of going to Patrick's house. His house was only two streets down, a five-minute walk from mine, so it was a given that we usually hungout at each other's places all the time before. He'd drop by at mine early in the morning in hopes that he'd get a plate of my mom's pancakes. While I'd usually run to his place for his dad's signature beef casserole and to raid his racks CDs for a song that I could listen to as I wrote.

It was only over a month since we stopped talking, but the familiar feeling of walking the way to his house felt so distant. Like an old memory that was slowly fading into an oblivion of swirling long-forgotten memories. It saddened me that the place which used to be my second home, now felt like foreign, uncharted lands that had the possibility to swallow me whole.

The only thing that provided me comfort and gave me the motivation to keep my feet moving forward was Kayla's arm around me. We were walking together towards Patrick's house.

The night had aleady broke upon us, the moon huge and bright against the black canvas of skies that was adorned with twinkling stars, the cold breeze of he snowy wind blushing our cheeks. I was actually hesistant on calling Kayla, but Camille insisted that I needed someone to be with me, and that it would be weird if it was her. For a second or two, with my phone pressed against my right ear, I thought that Kayla wouldn't pick up. I thought she was mad at me just like I assumed the rest were, but I was surprised when she asked me if I was okay and agreed to accompany me to Patrick's house without missing a beat.

"Hey, relax. You're shaking." Kayla tightened her hold around me and I tried to ease my anxiousness by breathing in deeply.

"I'm scared Kayla."

She smiled softly at me, gripping my shoulder for a moment. "If I was in your shoes, I'll probably run. But look at you, you're just a street away from facing your fears."

I groaned, tilting my head back a little. "Great, remind me of the small distance."

She laughed. "Oh, come on. It wouldn't be so bad."

"What if the girlfriend is there?" I turned to look at her with a challenging look on my face.

"Georgina Doyle? She's in Maldives right now."

My brows furrowed together. "And you know this because?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, releasing me from her hold to wrap her hands around herself. Her leather jacket two sizes big for her. "We're friends on Facebook. She just posted a pic the other day."

I pursed my lips tightly together, slightly annoyed at myself for being threatened by Georgina's presence. It was highly immature of me to think that she'd replace me, but I couldn't help but feel that way. I was worried that just like Patrick, they'd also stop talking to me when they realize that she would be a far better company than I ever could be.

Kayla probably sensed my thoughts, seeing as she nudged me with her elbow and frowned. "Hey, stop that. You know we love you."

I sighed. "I know. But I hate it. I feel like such a teenage girl."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't we all at some point in our lives?"

I only smiled at her, glad that I had her here to support me.

It took us a couple more minutes until we reached Patrick's home. We were standing in front of his house, just steps away from his driveway. Nothing much had changed. It was still the same two-storey bright yellow house with black roof, black shingles and trimmings as well as huge black Victorian windows. The only thing that was different now were the long line of snow that covered their driveway and garden that used to filled with tulips in assorted colors and the moisture that started to build on the glass windows.