Forgive and Forget

Chapter 1: Remembering


A/N: I'm going to run with it and I hope you all enjoy the ride. Thoughts? Critics?


Monday morning, Jared pressed his tongue against the inside of his teeth, walking the hallways with his barely filled backpack strapped onto his shoulders. He was taller than most of the school, standing at six feet two, but he blended in quite nicely. For that, he was appreciative. The hallways were always congested; they were filled with freshman that stopped at corners, and juniors that ran this way and that with books and papers in their arms. He was just a lazy senior, doing the bare minimum.

Jared passed her classroom and felt something in his chest tug a little bit. He had the urge to stop and wait for her against her locker, but he didn't. Instead, he looked above the heads of all of the underclassmen around him, averting his eyes from the left side of the hallway. She would pass him eventually.

They both knew they would see each other in passing. They had plenty of mutual friends, walked the same hallways, and their houses were in the same direction. During the weekend from Hell, as Jared thought to call it, they both knew they'd have to see each other.

Jared wasn't sure how he felt about seeing her. They had last seen each other Saturday morning, at the playground they'd enjoyed as children. The sun had been lingering in the middle of the sky, not quite proclaiming the afternoon. The morning was muggy, the humidity making her usually beautiful curly hair frizz slightly. The imperfections made him smile.

He remembered what she was wearing: a blue basketball league t-shirt from middle school, a pair of blue jeans, and running shoes. Her curly hair was pulled into it's usual pony tail and her face was free of any make-up. It was how he liked her best, plain and simple. Beautiful and natural.

Her face, instead of the usual perpetual smile, was hard. Her eyes were downcast, refusing him the view of her perfect brown orbs. She was angry at him.

It had started with his friends. Yes, Jared would admit, they were obnoxious and enjoyed getting everyone riled up with some good gossip. Their gossiping and rumor-spreading ways had gotten the best of her, and of Jared. She made him choose, and choose he did not. Instead he just looked at her, dumbfounded and heartbroken. She had already chosen for him, before he even knew he had a choice.

Jared rubbed his face with his hands, sighing as he turned the corner in the hallway. He didn't want to think about why his with her relationship had ended.

When his hands peeled away from his face and he opened his eyes, he nearly pissed himself.

She still looked the same. It was as if nothing had happened during the weekend. He was so sure, that after years of knowing each other, separating would take some sort of physical toll on her. But… God forbid she ever looked like she was ever in pain. She wore what she would wear any other day: jeans, a t-shirt and her hair in a pony tail. Her eyes looked dry, and her face was void of make-up.

A stabbing pain shot through his chest. He wasn't as strong as she was— no, he wasn't as great an actor as she was. Jared could never put a mask on, not the way she did.

She glanced at him, her eyes catching his. His breath caught in his throat for the fast glimpse, his brain pausing, and his heart raced. Then, he turned away from her.

If she wasn't affected by anything that had transpired during the weekend, then he would move on. Jared decided, when she didn't reach out to him or call his name, that he was going to get over whatever heartache she had put him through.

They were perfect for each other on paper, but in reality their cliché didn't work. Not all childhood friends could fall in love and stay in love.

Jared pressed his tongue against the inside of his teeth again, trying to rid himself of the memories. Seeing her brought a flood of memories; some were from their childhood, and others were more recent. Just four days ago he had been holding her hand and kissing her, sending her off to class as he ran to his.

He sat down on his seat in chemistry, tongue still pressed to the inside of his teeth. He hated remembering what it was like to be kissing her.