Written In The Stars

The Mess I Made

The next day, I try my best to ignore everyone. And by everyone, I mean Jessie. He's been giving me pleading looks every time my eyes catch his, but I don't back down. I just stare hard right back and wait for him to turn away.

Overnight my worries had turned into anger. I mean, really, why should I stress over someone that won't even text to see if I'm alright? I was in the hospital for two fucking days for crying out loud and he hadn't sent a single message. Not one.

"I'm sorry."

I shut my locker and face Jessie. It doesn't even make me happy to see how sad he looks. "Do you want me to tell you exactly where you can shove your apology?" At his somber expression something tightens in my chest, but I ignore it. "Well, do you?" I ask again.

He backs away and shakes his head at me. "I'm good, Quinn."

"Good."

And just like that all of our progress has been squashed, reduced to nothing. Just like us.

"Why are you still here?" I ask when he makes no move to walk away.

"Trying to decide if it's still worth the fight," he answers sadly.

My heart constricts but I clamp the feeling down. "It's not," I say with as much malice as I can. I know that I'm wrong for trying to hurt him, but it comes so easy to me. It's second nature by this point.

He nods. "Yeah. I can see that." And then he walks away for what feels like the final time.

I'm more confused by our brief interaction than I am angry. Less than a week ago we were on our way to working it out. What it was, I wasn't sure. Maybe not our relationship, but something. Now, we were back at square one. Great.

I stomp all the way to the library for my free and when I take a seat at the back, I'm equally surprised and annoyed to find that Sam has followed me. "What do you want?" I ask as I unpack my bag.

"So, we're fighting again?" She doesn't sit right away, so I toss my bag on the other seat so that she can't. "Real mature, Quinn."

"That's me," I say with a sweet smile. "Mature."

"What is it that you want from us?" She asks. "From me?"

I open my World History textbook with so much anger that I nearly rip the cover. "I don't want anything from any of you, Samantha. And no, we're not fighting again." I stare at her long and hard. "We're not anything."

Her laugh echoes throughout the mostly silent library and I'm surprised that no one has told her to shut it. "You're having a bad day, got it." She leans down and gives me a hug, one that I don't reciprocate. "You don't have to hurt us just because you're hurting. It doesn't have to be that way."

I stiffen, and she lets go. "Whatever." It's a lazy retort, but I don't feel like fighting anymore. "Just go."

And she does. She leaves and the rest of the day flies by in a blur of uncomfortable silence and curious stares.

My mom is home when I finally make it there. She hugs me as soon as I walk through the door and although my entire body protests at the contact, I hug her back.

As messed up as I seem, I'm still just a little girl who needs her mother when shit gets too rough. Just took me a while to figure that part out.

We spend the night watching old black and white movies and eating junk food. I'm wrapped up in vanilla and it comforts me to have her here with me.

We're almost to the end of All About Eve, and Addison is about to expose all of Eve's lies when my mother turns to me. "Anything you want to talk about?" She asks.

"What?" I'm trying to act distracted as I train my eyes on the movie, but I know that she's talking about the mess with Jessie.

"You're not your usual self lately."

I laugh. "Mom, I don't even know who my usual self is."

I've lived so many lives in one short year and even I'm sad that I had to make that statement. Am I the girl who loves her friends and family and is kind to everyone? Absolutely not. Not anymore. But I'm not the cold-hearted bitch I've made myself out to be either. Underneath all that ice there's still something tender. There's still something worth saving. I've just gotta work up the nerve to actually do the saving.

My mother runs gentle hands through my hair and I lean against her, same as when I was a little girl. "You run hot and cold, honey," she says in a voice that's not unkind. "One day you're yelling out that you hate everyone and everything, and the next you've locked yourself in your room and won't stop crying."

I nod, assuming that this is one of those times that I'm just supposed to listen for once and not interrupt.

"You remind me a lot of me when I was your age."

Now I'm unable to just listen. "Really?"

She nods. "Totally. You can ask your granddad. I gave everyone hell back then." She chuckles and hugs me tight. "I turned out pretty okay, I think and so will you." She kisses the top of my head and I bask in her affection that I'd denied myself all year. "You just need to stop running first."

Confused, I say, "I'm not running."

"Sure you are." My mother says this matter of factly. "Except that your version of running from your problems is lashing out."

I mull over her words and somewhere deep down I know that she's right. "I can't help lashing out. It's so easy to be mean," I say with conviction. Because it is easy to be mean, and I'm very good at it.

I feel her shrug against me. "Sure, it is. It's a lot harder to be kind when we're angry. Doesn't mean that you have to give in to that mean streak of yours so often, baby. Sometimes it's okay to just let things go."

"And sometimes it's not."

She doesn't say anything to that, just hums quietly and I know that she's going to drop it for now.

"I've made a mess of things," I say quietly. "I can't see anything ending well."

"Ah, honey." My mom wraps me tighter in her arms. "You'll never make too big a mess for the people that truly love you and your people are good people."

Her words sadden me instead of offering comfort. "That's no excuse to be a shitty person. And I've been such an awful person, Mom. I don't deserve my good people when I'm not even a good person."

"You're a wonderful person," she says defensively. "And I'm not just saying that because I'm your mother. If you were such a terrible person there'd be no one waiting on the other side and so far as I know, none of your friends have given up on you. I know that I never will." She laughs. "Even when you're acting like you're part heathen and I want to wring your neck."

I squeeze her hands that are around me. "Thank you for loving me in spite of my bad habits."

"It's my job, baby," she says with a wistful sigh.

We don't talk anymore after that. The movie ends, and we call it a night, but I can't sleep.

I shower twice and clean my room all over again, but still I'm unable to find sleep.

Finally, I take out my phone and text Sam. She's not my first choice at company, but she's a lot better than the alternative.

Sam shows up an hour later and I let her in and for once we don't argue, we just sort of exist in each other's presence until we fall asleep and as sad as it sounds, it's one of the better nights I've had in a long time.