It All Began With A Song [Editing]

Chapter 24: Letting Go

  It's been almost two weeks when I'd last seen Katelyn and Chase over there, and since then, I've been trying my best to avoid him.

With tennis season long over, it isn't that hard to avoid him during school besides gym class. I just have to enter school minutes before the bell rang for tardiness, which I always manage to get in the classroom on time, and leave school the minute the bell rang for dismissal, which is extremely difficult with the number of people in the hallway. It's gotten to the point that I don't even go to my locker during locker change until I have gym class.

Everything seems to go the way I want it to because coach decided for the boys and girls to split while playing sports; rumor is that he caught a couple making out in the girls' locker room, or rather, doing something else, last week.

Thank you, whoever your names are.

Chase has been trying to get my attention in gym, but I keep pretending that I don't see him by trying to communicate with the other girls, but most of them hate me anyway either from my horrible sports skills or something else I don't know so that is extremely difficult.

Because I know I can't just mope around and eat Ben and Jerry's ice cream (for some reason, the ice cream doesn't make me feel any better like what they say in movies), I've been trying to do various tasks to not let me think about him. The jobs varies from cleaning bathrooms at home to helping my Algebra 2 teacher grading papers during lunch, which is actually pretty fun.

It used to be easier to distract myself to not think about it so that I wouldn't feel the pain, but for some reason, it was really hard this time. I even turned off my phone, so I wouldn't receive a text from a certain someone because it would defeat the whole purpose of avoiding him.

This avoiding thing wasn't going to last forever, but I need some time before I completely break things up with him.

+ + +

"Zoe?"

I recline on the cool wooden floor, completely worn out from cleaning the guest room and not caring at all if my hair will get dirty from resting there. It won't matter anyway because there are already specks of dust on it anyway; plus, I'm planning to wash it later on when I don't feel lazy anymore.

Thank goodness my mom was at work, or else she'll throw a fit about me lying on the floor.

Ever since my mom have announced to us that her college friend was coming to visit her -- something like a huge reunion party -- next week, she's been ordering us to clean up the house. While I don't really mind (I need some things to do so I could distract myself), I think my mom is definitely going a little too overboard with the cleaning house plan.

"Yea?"

We are currently supposed to be rearranging pictures from old photo albums I have founded underneath my desk, while in reality, we are far more interested looking at the photos rather than rearranging them.

I mean, the whole purpose to clean your room is to look for your old belongings that you haven't seen in the past decade. In my case, there's a lot of candy wrappers involved.

"Don't you just miss being a kid?" I pick up a picture of an eight year old me, desperately trying to rebuild a sand castle, but the waves in the background kept washing it away.

She grins when she sees the picture. "Yes, I remembered that one. Your parents took Seth, you, and me to the beach during spring break, and I ended up with a fever so we had to return earlier."

Laughing at the memory, I continue, "Remember when Seth saw a little crab and then he started chasing the poor thing?"

"Yes! And the seashells too! We should go there again this summer," she suggests as she takes out another photo and slides it in the pocket of the photo album.

I nod, agreeing with the thought, "I wish people can replay and delete memories. That way we won't feel so depressed when we think of things we don't want to think."

The image of them two keeps popping in my mind, and it's gotten to the point that I just want to yell at my brain to shut up.

"Nat?" The worrisome look on Zoe's face returns. "If you want to cry, then cry. Don't try to distract yourself because it'll only hurt more. We, Seth, me, and everyone else, are always here for you." She pauses for a second, "Do you need me to punch him because I'll do that in a heartbeat."

I laugh at her and instantly feel cheered up. "No, you don't need to punch him. He didn't do anything wrong anyway. I just think that he really likes her, and it hurts because I know that I need to end this friendship. If I don't, I might end up accidentally confessing to him one day, and it'll just ruin the friendship. It's better to end things now than later."

Plus, I silently add, it might not hurt anymore to know that I'm not friends with him.

I must be the most selfish person in this world.

Zoe hugs me, understanding what I mean. "I'm sorry things didn't work between you two, but Nat, to be honest, I really think Chase likes you. I mean, the way he looks at you is exactly what someone would look like when they like a person."

I smile sadly. "No, he just views me as a friend who he can open up to, that's it. I saw him when Katelyn kissed his cheek; he was smiling at her, and I don't think I've seen him any happier than before. If Katelyn makes him happy, then I'm more than willing to give up."

Be proud of yourself, Nat.

There's nothing wrong with letting someone go.

Zoe sighs hopelessly, "Even though I respect your decision, I still think you're giving up too soon. The Natalie I know wouldn't give up so soon. She's tough, stubborn, and yet caring. Don't you think that your choice would only end up hurting both of you?"

"I'm really scared, Zoe. Last year was already horrifying. I promised to myself that I wouldn't allow the same thing to happen to me again, and yet look at me now. I don't want to hurt him too, but if I don't end things soon, this will all end up in a huge disaster that no one can fix."

I don't want to be like the clingy and desperate girls.

I want to be the one who'll let go of the person she likes willingly even if it hurts.

Grabbing my phone from my nightstand after Zoe had broken away from the hug, I go ahead and turn it on, only to see that I have forty-two missed calls and fifty-eight texts from Chase.

Waffles, I really shouldn't have turned off my phone.

The texts I receive from him are mostly asking whether I'm mad at him or not -- I'm not. Just as I am about to call him, the shrill ringtone of my phone blasts; it's Chase.

The moment I press the answer button, Chase begins speaking, "Nat? Thank god you've answered; I thought you were mad at me or something because I didn't help you during gym class. Listen, I have something important to tell you -- "

"Chase?"

"Yes, sugar cane?"

This is probably the first time that I actually feel good that he'd called me my given nickname.

I know what I have to do; I just simly can't say the words on the phone. No, it has to be face-to-face, whether I like it or not because it's the least I can do for him.

"Meet me at the park in ten minutes and bring your racket."

You got this Natalie.

+ + +

"That was a good game," Chase grins cheekily, handing me a bottle of water as he started to dribble a tennis ball serenely, "Looks like you're not that clumsy anymore."

It really is; the weather today actually feels good -- not hot, not cold. Even the breeze today is being nice to my hair since I don't have to spit out hair every three seconds like I normally would have to on a breezy day. Maybe the weather feels bad about me, so it decides to be nice to me today. Surprisingly, I only miss hitting the ball four times, which really is a record for me (I usually miss around ten times when I'm practicing with him).

Chase gives me a small box of Nutella sticks. "I actually wanted to give you this earlier after you threw up at that Chinese restaurant, but I kept forgetting to buy it."

Frowning slightly, I think back to what happened last week when we went to the restaurant. I have a weird habit of shoving excessive amounts of food in my mouth when I get upset. Since I saw Katelyn with Chase, I figured that if I ate six plates of lo mein, maybe I'll feel better about my feelings.

Oh how wrong I was.

Not only did I ended up throwing up on the toilet, I also threw up with everyone (and the other customers that were also there) looking at me, and it was seriously one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. Let's just all say that I don't think the workers in the restaurant would like to see me again in the near future although I tipped them fifteen dollars for the mess. I mean, I did try to clean up the mess in the restroom, but in order to clean up the mess on the carpet floor, I was going to have to use up their whole supply of napkins, and I'm pretty sure they wouldn't like that at all.

I begin to smile and then quickly refrain myself from doing so because of the guilt that is swallowing me up. "Thanks."

I don't even deserve this.

His grin widens when he sees me accept my favorite type of chocolate. "We should play this again next week. Maybe Makenna can play with us too. You know, it could be a daily workout."

I gulp down the water anxiously, desperately trying to figure out how to start what I really want to say.

Dear waffles, please don't let me end up confessing that I like him.

"I don't think we can do that anymore."

The hand that is tightly clutching onto the racket starts to tremble, and I bite my lip, the metallic taste of blood lingering on my tongue as I wait for his reaction.

Chase stops dribbling the tennis ball, confused about my statement like he have heard it wrongly. "What do you mean?"

It's now or never.

"What I mean is," my voice starts to wobble, and I quickly clear my throat, "I think we should stop hanging out together." The last part comes out really quiet, so I am surprised that he actually hears me.

Hurt flashes across his face, and I can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, this is a bad idea; but I have to do this.

To show him that this isn't affecting me, I gaze up at the clear blue sky to prevent the tears from falling down my cheeks.

Not now.

Not in front of him.

"The past three months and a half with you was really fun, and I enjoyed all the practices I had with you. Thanks for making me laugh at the singing, and the apology cupcakes. I... "

I can't.

I can't continue; it's getting to the point that everything in my sight is blurring up, so I end up having to cover my eyes with my hands so that I can hastily wipe the bothersome tears away.

Please... Just stop crying.

This wasn't a part of the plan.

I'm not supposed to cry.

Forcing myself to fake another weak laugh, I shake my head to imply to him that I am okay, "Sorry, there was something in my eyes. I... I gotta go, sorry."

Before I can leave him, however, he grabs my wrists and asks the question I am scared to hear, "Did I do something wrong?"

No, you didn't do anything wrong. I did; I shouldn't have admitted to myself that I liked you.

It was a stupid, pathetic mistake.

I carefully inspect him; his playful expression is long gone and is replaced by the complete devastated expression. His emerald eyes seem like they are agonizing him to the point where it looks it he is about to cry too. His lips are frowning, as if my words wound him as much as it did to me. Eyebrows furrowed close together, he inquires me again, "Natalie, why? Why are you doing this?"

Because I really like you -- I actually want to say. But I can't say that; it'll just ruin the whole purpose of letting him go.

Be strong.

Instead, I choose to say the one sentence that he and I both know isn't true at all, but it is also unendurable enough for him to let go of my wrists in just a matter of seconds, completely afflicted by my statement.

"You remind me of Alex, that's why."

No, you're completely different from Alex.

What am I doing?

The tears are dangerously close to spill out any daring moment, and I have to keep reminding myself that this is worth it -- Chase is happier with her anyway. The two of us will both feel better within days, yet the small, irritating voice in me keeps yelling at me that I am being the stupid one here. That this is all wrong.

"I- I should go; Zoe's waiting for me."

I'm so sorry, but if I don't do this, I'll only end up confessing to you one day; and it'll just ruin your relationship with her.

And so I run, as fast as I can to Zoe's car, which have been in the parking lot ever since we've been here. He doesn't run after me, but I don't expect he will anyway, not after what I said. The moment I get inside the car, I speak to Zoe urgently, "Let's go."

It was only when I looked at the small box of Nutella sticks he had given me that the two weeks worth of tears began to flood out like a collapsed dam. I knew this was bound to happen, but it hurts so much.

Goodbye, Chase Parker.

Song: "Photograph" by Ed Sheeran