Page 47 of Tortured Whispers
A smile slowly stole space on my face as we got to her car. “Where are you parked?” She asked, her eyes scanning the lot.
“The black Toyota,” I told her pointing.
“Oh, I see it. Cool.” She flashed a smile and I watched her get into her car before I hurried to mine. Once I was behind the wheel, I let out a small squeal. It was a pure burst of excitement that I couldn’t control.
I drove behind Ashley to her house and gave myself a pep talk the entire time.
You can do this Brooklyn.
You’ll actually have a friend if you don’t fuck it up.
It’ll be your first real friend since elementary school.
When we pulled into the driveway I shut my eyes for a second and tried to calm my nerves. I could feel the water edging in on me though.
Fuck.
I slid my thumb from my sleeve and pulled back the material so I could see my scars. They were potent reminders of why I couldn’t let the water back into my head. I had to think about Cease. I had to remember how it felt to be at peace. To be happy.
Ashley knocked on my window and I jumped. “Come on,” she smiled.
“One sec,” I replied, hastily pulling my sleeve down. I forced myself to swallow the knot in my throat as I got out and followed Ashley to her house. I had to push through this. Normal girls did this shit all the time like it was nothing.
The inside of her house smelled like vanilla candles. I tried to focus on the sweet scent and not the growing nerves scattering inside of my brain. “So, this is my house,” she shrugged. We headed to the kitchen where she offered me a soda. I obliged just to have something to do with myself. Otherwise, I’d wonder if I was doing everything right.
Was I sitting right? Smiling at the right time? Nodding when I was supposed to?
“I notice you always wear hoodies and long sleeves even when it’s hot. You’re not gonna like shoot up the school or anything are you?” Ashley laughed, tipping her can of Coke upward.
“Oh…no. School shootews awen’t usually females anyway.”
Stupid Brooklyn.
So fucking stupid.
Did you hear yourself mispronounce those R’s? You turned them into fucking W’s again.
Ashley laughed a little and put her hand on top of mine. “The way you talk is so fucking cute. Stop being so self-conscious.”
“It’s awful. I sound stupid,” I muttered, pressing my chin to my chest. Wisps of hair fell into my face, escaping my messy ponytail.
“Girl, stop it. You’re fine. It is what it is.” She studied my face and I saw a flicker of something in her brown eyes. I couldn’t tell what it was. “Is that why you’re always wearing those hoodies and long sleeves? You feel like you have to hide?”
“I don’t know. I…like them. They feel comfo…they feel good.”
“Comfortable?” Ashley smirked. I felt my face heat to one thousand degrees. I hated it. She wasn’t making fun of me but I still felt something. I couldn’t tell if it was nerves or what.
It was probably nerves.
She just wanted to be my friend and I wanted a friend so badly.
“Yeah,” I shrugged.
“Hey, Brookie…are you um…a cutter?” Sirens blared to life in my head. Red, angry, and loud.
“What? No,” I shook my head and stood up, ready to leave.
“Hey, no judgment here. I told you I wanted to be friends. Friends know everything about each other. We’ve technically known each other since ninth grade so, no reason to hide.”
