63: Past Regrets

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I looked down at the photos on my cellphone screen and tears came to my eyes. Opal talk to me. I thought desperately as I dialed her number from heart. That’s how often I tried calling.

“Hey this is Opal I obviously am not at the phone so do your thing and I’ll do mine.” Her answering machine picked up instantly. 

“Opal  it’s me.” I said quietly. It was the first time I had gotten up the nerve to leave her a voicemail. “I know you hate me but . . .” I closed my eyes taking a deep breath slowly. “I need you Opal.” A few tears fell down my cheeks and I looked down at the picture of the two of us together. “Please talk to me.  I don’t know what to do and . . . well call me back. Please.”

I hung up the phone quickly and looked down at it blankly as tears fell. I miss her so much. Opal,my best friend that I practically lived with back at my dad’s house, had not talked to me for months now. The silence started back a month before I left my dad’s.

“fuck!” I hissed pelting the phone against the bedroom wall.

She’s never going to talk to me again. I pulled my knees up to my chin and wrapped my arms around them. I buried my head into my knees tears streaming down my face.

I need you Opal. I don’t know what to do. We always figured things out together. How can you abandon me just like that?

I shook my head taking a deep breath. No crying. I scolded myself trying to get the tears to stop running down my face. I’d just utterly confused myself about what I was doing. I like Kale. I thought still shocked at my realization. I can’t like him. He’s going to be my step-brother! This is just wrong.

My mind told me that I should separate myself from him. I should space myself and let my stupid heart calm down. It was just a little crush. He’s done it to me on purpose. It’s all part of his game. I thought which only made me cry again.

“Hey loser sure you don’t want a ride to school tomorrow?” Kale asked popping his head through the open door.

I shook my head and looked up giving him a fake smile. “No Jakeson is.”

“Are you crying?” he asked in a confused voice.

 

Damnnit.  “What? No. I’m good.”

To my dismay he entered the room and closed the door behind him. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing. Really.” I said shrugging.

His eyes wandered to my smashed phone laying on the ground a few feet from him. The screen cracked and battery case popped off. “I’m not an idiot.” He said sitting on the edge of my bed looking over at me. “Now spill.”

I shook my head. I can’t tell him. “I’m fine. Really.”

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