Behind the Cherry Tree, A Not-So-Short Story

22. Sealed With a White Bow

It's been three days since Lily spoke to me at the airport. Three days since Leo left. Three days since Mike left. Will's been doing his best to try and keep my mind off it, the girls keep hinting that there's something more to his friendliness but I don't want to accept it. I mean, we're best friends and the second I start doubting that that is platonic the whole friendship could fall apart. I've learned the hard way that you don't fall your best frind. 

Tess came by this afternoon to chat about stuff, which ultimately led to talking about Will. I tried to explain that she was wrong but she wouldn't listen to me. Eventually all the girls had been called over to mine and the start of a fun afternoon began. 

We're halfway through screaming at the Wii when mum comes through the door with a pile of letters in her hand.

"Mel!" She yells over the furore. "There's a letter here for you!"

Bouncing over to mum I grin as I pluck the letter from her.

"Ooooh, looks who's special, getting letters from secret admirers now are we?" Croons Minka.

"Bet I know who sent it!" Tess shouts, causing all the girls to giggle. Mum raises her eyebrow at me smiling, making me think that she's in on the joke too. I roll my eyes and inspect the letter.

I only have to read my name on the envelope for my blood to run cold. The smile falls off my face like the last leaf from a tree in autumn as I recognise Mike's familiar scrawl.

Instead of being filled with despair and the need to burst into tears, instead of an overwhelming urge to tear open the letter with my teeth to devour his words, instead of trying to figure out a quick response. I get angry.

Very angry.

My expression sets in a stony glare. My sight fills with red. I want to tear the hair from his pretty head. I want to slap him so hard that my hand bruises his face for a week. I want to scream my pain and hurt and anger at him so loud that he cries as he begs it to stop. But I can't do anything because the coward is on a plane, he left me a letter instead of saying anything to my face.

No. He can't say this to my face? Fuck him. I'll never read this letter. I'll never forgive him for running away. I'll never let myself forget that he betrayed me. He means as much to me as I obviously mean to him. Nothing.

No-one has noticed my inner tourmoil yet. They're all laughing and chatting. It's a strange juxaposition. It's as if there's a 5" thick glass wall between my sullen figure and my light, bubbly friends. Watching them have fun makes something in me snap.

Why the hell can't I just get over him? Why can't I make myself get over him? Why can't I be fun and happy and careless like them? Why couldn't I have heeded my parents all those years ago and stayed the hell away from him? 

Because of him I lie to my parents. Because of him there's a bitch somewhere in my neighbourhood that harbours all my secrets. Because of him I can't play a fucking game on the Wii without being reminded of all the fuck ups that make up my life. The biggest of which is him.

Fueled with rage I storm out the front door, the frosty air stinging my face. Slamming my bedroom  door open I vaguely hear the shocked cries of my girlfriends as they follow me out of the house. I hardly notice them huddling into my room, watching me pace like a caged animal for a minute before I completely lose it.

I explode. My world explodes. A strangled screaming fills my ears and I know full well it's my hate. It's the scream I want Mike to feel. Everything blurs around the edges as I pull things off my shelves, throw draws across my bed, tip my room upside down. On my freshly cleared desk a small pyre of objects and knick knacks begins to build.