Back in Black

…a one shot.

“Maybe you can tell me why we’re like this,” I asked him, leaning against my locker door.

He didn’t look me directly in the eye. He didn’t even look at me. He half-heartedly shrugged his shoulders and didn’t say anything. I mentally groaned, but plowed on.

“Don’t you have any questions about what happened?” I asked him, “Aren’t you at all curious?”

“No,” he answered simply but firmly, as though he wanted me to drop the subject and pretend that nothing happened, “It was two years ago. I’m over it, you should be too.”

“I have two thirds of the story,” I told him, rolling my eyes and now groaning out loud, “You have the other third. Or if you prefer this expression, you have the last pieces of the puzzle. I want the full puzzle done.”

“Why are you so hung up on this?” he asked nonchalantly, nodding to one of his friends that walked down the hallway.

“I’m not hung up on this,” I said harshly, I just want to know what happened. I can’t believe that you don’t want the same thing!”

“It never mattered that much to me,” he said, now looking me in the eyes, “It was never that big of a deal…that big of a thing.”

“So I never mattered that much to you?” I asked him, now becoming angry, “I was never that big of a deal or that big of a thing?”

“Don’t make this about you,” he told me, not even fazed, “It happened, and it sucked because we both got screwed over. But we were both involved.”

“You were only involved because you got pulled into it!” I shrieked shrilly, “In case you didn’t notice, it was entirely about me. All of it was about me.”

“You sound like you’re happy about that,” he eyed me up.

“Do you really think I was happy about everyone talking about me?” I asked him now laughing slightly, “Oh please. I hated it. I hated walking down the hallway and thinking that people were talking about me, laughing at me.”

“They talked about me too, remember?” he said to me.

“Only because the rumors involved you,” I said, looking away from him and banging my head against a locker door to try and clear my head.

“Were they really just rumors?” he asked, now looking interesting, “Or was that bitch actually right?”

“Why does it matter?” I smirked evilly, “I thought you said you weren’t curious.”

“Well if you’re holding me up in the hallway to get your long-lost answers, I’m going to get some of mine. Screw what I said, okay?”

“Fine,” I sighed, “What do you really think?”

“I think that you actually liked me,” he said shortly, leaning his shoulder against the set of lockers we were at.

I shrugged my shoulders and sighed again. “I did like you,” I said.

“I know,” he said, not saying anything other than that.

“I’m sorry that you found out that way… Or rather, that you found out at all,” I said softly.

“Why?” he asked, seeming genuinely interested.

“Because I knew that you didn’t feel the same,” I said to him in a ‘duh’ sort of voice.

“You’re right, I didn’t,” he said immediately, “But it’s not like I minded.”

After a few seconds, I asked quietly, “Really?”

“Really,” he said, “Come on, I wasn’t going to chastise you for it.”

“Then how come you didn’t talk to me for, like, six months?” I asked, finally planning on getting some answers.

“At first it was embarrassment,” he said, “But I got over that. And you can’t forget that you avoided me. I didn’t dodge you, you know. You were the one that was doing all the dodging.”

I didn’t say anything, having never considering this possibility. “I always thought that you hated being around me,” I said.

“I hated what happened,” he said, “I didn’t hate being around you. I didn’t hate you.”

“Okay,” I said, grinning slightly.

“What else did you want to know?” he asked.

“I didn’t really want to ask anything,” I admitted, “I just wanted to hear what you thought of the whole thing, how you felt…”

He was silent for a minute. Then he sighed and ran a hand through his short hair. Finally, he said, “I’m not going to lie, it was bad. I was embarrassed and I hated that, because I don’t get embarrassed easily. But once I got over it, it didn’t bother me. That’s why I said it wasn’t that big of a deal or anything… It was only because I was no longer caught up in it. I got over it.”

“I should probably do that,” I said, smiling slightly, “The whole thing was bad for me too.”

“I think you had it worse,” he said, lightly punching me in the shoulder.

“Damn straight,” I grinned.

“So what do we do now?” he asked.

“I…” I began.

“What?”

I like you, I thought. However, realizing I couldn’t say it, I didn’t say what I was thinking. I just stood there and gave him a quick hug and peck on the cheek. I think he knew then, what I was thinking, because he grinned at me understandingly and didn’t try to stop me when I left him at those lockers and walked down the hallway. I walked out of the side doors to the school and saw my mom’s car, right where she parked it. I slowly walked to the car and got in the passenger’s side.

“Okay, Mom,” I said, putting on my seatbelt, “We can go home now and finish loading up the moving van.”

---

Notice: The muses were moving me to write a one-shot, so I did. While what the two people in this one-shot are talking about actually happened, this conversation never did. The narrator is really me, and this is the kind of conversation that I wish I could have. While you don’t know what happened, really, or the details, I think writing it this way is better rather than a full-blown story. I hope you enjoyed it.