Chapter Eleven
I think I'll never know what compelled me to do such a stupid thing. I may not be the best at math or geography, but I was pretty smart when need be. And I was definately smart enough to know when I was about to do something inexplicably stupid. So I guess I'll never know what compelled me to go over to Flea's that day.
I didn't expect her to be home. Or let me in. But as I stood on her doorstep and knocked on the clean, white door, I felt something, possibly someone else take me over. Force me to stand there. To walk in when Flea opened the door. To take a seat in one of the tall-backed chairs in her dining room and fold my hands on the while linolium table-top. And force a grim smile as Flea sat in the chair opposite mine.
"So..." I was suprised. Flea was the first to speak. She didn't seem too sure of herself as she spoke, face slightly pale and eyes pointed at the table. "What do you want? I thought you never wanted to talk to me."
I kept my cold blue eyes on her as I spoke. "I came down here because I wanted to talk to you in at least a somewhat civilised manner." I waited for her to nod before I continued. "You know... I used to hate you. You had everything. You where pretty, nice, smart, funny, and everyone liked you. And what was I? Nothing. A geekaziod you happened to tolerate. Look at yourself! You have a perfect body, looks, a super-star boyfriend, perfect mother. Everything.
"Do you remember the time you smacked me? When I told you I was fat. Or rather, getting fat. You hit me. I think that was one of the times I hated you most. I had gained ten pounds that week. And it did matter to me. I'm not pretty. Far from it. I'm not smart, funny, and guys don't like me. So what do I have? I'm thin. That's it. And that's why I never eat in front of anyone. I only eat when I'm alone in my bedroom. And even then I hardly eat anything. I exercise like mad, and I diet. Because being thin is the only advantage I have on anyone. And you're way too high-and-mighty to come off your throne for a moment to realize that your friend has a problem."
"I... I never knew..."
"That's right." I said it with a sort of depressed smugness, confirming. "Because I never bothered to tell you. You always confided in me. About Kiel, your stepmother, your mother, your grades, even your weight, sometimes. But I hardly ever told you anything. Because I didn't feel I could. My comments about myself went unnoticed by you. Things that where wrong with me simply weren't a problem for you, so you didn't care. Money problems, weight, being a buillied nerd, getting raped. I never told you anything except things that applied to you. Like about my problems with my stepmother. When I wanted to run away. When I tried to commit suicide those seven-something times. I just never bothered to try to talk to you. What was the point? I really didn't think you would listen, anyway."
"You could have tried to explain-"
"When?" I cut her off in mid-sentence."You're always so busy with Kiel that I never have a chance to talk to you anymore. And when I do get a chance, all you want to talk about is Kiel. You probably don't care, but Kiel is the only person I've ever really liked. Sure, I've dated more people than most others can only dream about. But I've never loved any of them. Until Kiel."
"I do love Kiel..." Flea kept her gaze locked on the table below her, not looking up at me."
"No. No, you don't. This is your first boyfriend. You don't even know what love is yet." I insisted. While flea was having trouble looking up, I couldn't keep my eyes off her. My cold stare locked on her bleach-blonde head, burning holes through her scalp. "Do you even remember how you two started going out? Taylor and I decided it was time you had a boyfriend, and so we forced you two together. We made him ask you out. And we made you say yes.
"And do you know what the hardest part of all this is? The fact that I still love you to death. The fact that I hate you enough to murder you, yet I still see you as my best friend in the universe. And the fact that I still can't stand the idea of losing you." Tears fell from my eyes, running tracks of black eyeliner down my cheeks. My eyes themselves had changed, no longer the icy-blue orbs of anger and hate, but now the soft sort of smokey kindness they usually retained.
Flea finally managed to find the courage to look up at me. When she did, I could see that she was crying as well. With the back of her left hand she rubbed at her eye, wiping away a few stray tears. Again some stranger took over my body. Made me get up from my chair and walk around to table to Flea. Made me wrap my arms around her. And made me whisper "I'm sorry" in her ear. And as we stood there in her dining room, our arms wrapped around eachother as our sobs turned to laughter, I could truly say that I knew the meaning of Friendship.