The Gradebook

Chapter 10: Midnight Maroon

CHAPTER 10: MIDNIGHT MAROON

A nervous tremble coming from my left woke me up from my hazy slumber. The silver glow of the moon was forceful upon my eyes, so I curled up into a tight ball and watched as Ethan tried to compose himself.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him. Something was unusual about the atmosphere, colder than normal and slightly unwelcoming. It clawed its way into my stomach, building tight knots that barely held onto my thin string of hope. Hope that things would get better.

He shot me a side-glance and ran a shaky hand through his hair. There was something about the way he was driving that scared me; and even though he was going above the speed limit, it wasn’t that which worried me. He seemed anxious, petrified almost. It was silence he responded back with.

Knowing that the tension in the car would only crumble my resolve, I sat up as straight as I could with my weak senses. Road after road, buildings and traffic lights and flatland stretched, but nowhere near as much as the silence. It was getting heavy and hurtful.

“You said you’d tell me everything on your mind, Ethan... What’s wrong?” I mustered, keeping my eyes peeled to the shifting hands in my lap.

“Mia, that was... s-six years ago. Things won’t change. You won’t understand if I explain, you’ll forget in the morning anyways,” he answered. I took a moment to study him. His lips, usually dragged into a genuine grin, were now pursed together and bent into a frown. His eyes, which once reflected joy and trust, looked betrayed and hurt beyond belief. I had to do something to cheer him up, wasn’t he my best friend?

“What do you mean? You said you’d tell me, never leave. You’re joking right now; you were always a funny person. Come on, can’t you tell me why you’re so down?” I begged. And even though I knew he wouldn’t really tell me anything, I couldn’t shake off the hope to save my life. A clock seemed to tick inside me, and with each painful movement each second, it reminded me I didn’t have much time left to grasp onto his trust.

Biting his bottom lip, he shifted around in his seat and weaved through lanes of cars. “It’s just... Nothing. You’re way too vulnerable right now, I can’t stand to see you like this,” he said. And in the smallest undertone imaginable, I barely caught the words:

“It’s like if I don’t hold on tight enough, I-I’ll... lose you forever.”

My heart, which struggled for the longest time to stay strong through my whole life, must have shattered, because my breathing stopped, and my head fell backwards with a groan. And then it hit me, reality finally made a surprise visit since my blackout. There was no more ‘us’ anymore. There was just me, and just him, alone in our own worlds where we tried to pretend we didn’t know the past, even though it just replayed in the present. The fact we weren’t friends anymore, the fact we were nowhere near friendship was obvious all this time. But the impact of it all never rained down on me, little strong me, who was hidden beneath an umbrella of denial.

It wasn’t that our friendship was over. It was that what I meant to Ethan was over, what he meant to me was done.

Every time I’d look at Ethan, I’d pushed away any thoughts of him, or how much I missed him. I’d let it lie under a blanket of invisible guilt and heartache. And it continued until these words that left my heart mourning and my words fruitless. It was sweet that he still couldn’t forget, but he had to do it before I crushed his heart. It would be better if he didn’t remember me, but it was really my fault for getting him into this situation. I’d rather he leave me alone to cope with the remorse than try to save what was left of me, because I wasn’t the same.