Chapter 36

"Hey, dumbass. Watcha doing?" Savannah says, ruffling my hair, smiling.

"Walking to my locker in peace, before you arrived." I answer dryly.

After she called last night, I had a hard time falling asleep, of course. Fucking Savannah called me. She did. First. She made me mad. I'm still mad at her. My brain's not working. I need coffee.

"Can I do something for you, princess? Accompany you to class?" She asks, with a posh accent.

"Coffee." I mumble. I'm too tired to make sense.

"Okay, so books, then vending machines, then class." I nod.

We walk to my locker, she tells me about some drama that's going on with her friend group. I can't understand what she's saying. And I don't really care about gossip right now. Or in general, after my high school experience in Italy. Thank God, this is my last year.

"University." Oops, I didn't mean to say it out loud.

"What?" She asks. I just interrupted her mid-story.

"You thought about uni yet?" I ask. Oh well, can't get out of it now. Ironic how just a few weeks ago I would have panicked way more than what I am right now. I guess I got comfortable around her. After all, lately she has always been annoying me. Worse than a fucking horse fly. Not that I mind.

"Uhm, yeah. We had to send applications a while ago. But I didn't send in anything. I'm probably going to work in a mechanic's or something. My parents don't really approve, you know, with all the 'We are lawyers, can't you do something a bit more honorable too?' thing, but yeah. I'll work my way up somehow. I could use some platform and get famous or something. They wouldn't approve that either, but that's what I want to do. How about you?"

"I wanted to study English lit. I completely forgot." Fuck fuck fuck fuck. I completely forgot. It was one of those periods where I had no control. I was supposed to give in my application. I was so exited. I want to be a writer. I had my chance and I screwed it. I wanted to start working as soon as possible, maybe start in journalism or something and work my way up. Even maybe be a critique. I want to write novels, but as long as I write or work with books I'm fine, really. But I wanted to start as soon as possible. I fucking hate myself. I'm fucking useless even for me. Jesus Christ.

"Oh. But you could still take a gap year and apply next January?"

"I mean, yeah, but I wanted to start working as soon as I could."

"What do you wanna do?"

"I don't know. Write novels. Make a difference." How could I forget?

"You can still do both. Set down the basis for your novel, maybe even write something down and better it while you study in the future. And you can volunteer, help children or homeless people or something." She sounds innocent. Like it was nothing. She fucking took a brick off my chest.

"I. Fucking. Love you. I didn't think about it. Sorry, my mind's not working."

I take my wallet out of my bag to pay my coffee. Savannah inserts the coin before I can manage.

"What you getting?" She asks, while pressing buttons.

"An espresso." I say. While her coffee's almost done, she starts fumbling with the machine again, ordering an espresso.

"No wait, I'll pay for it." I say, in a rush. She already payed for my dinner last night. And not only.

"But I want to pay." She whines.

I mimic her. "But you already did enough for me."

"Next time." She winks, grabs her coffee, and leaves.

"I thought you were bringing me to class." I half scream behind her.

"I'm just moving to the back of the queue to wait for you."

I roll my eyes. She's right, though, people will get mad.

I dump my stuff on the bed. Then I dump myself. The mattress makes a 'puff' noise. I always found that sound relaxing. I open my phone.

Savannah:

[5:34]: weekend at mine? sleepover

[5:35]: promise it'll be fun

I tell her I'll be there Saturday morning. I smile and look at the ceiling. It'll be fun.

I felt myself about to slip. I felt that feeling, the wanting to grab my razor. I never really did it, but I still get that kind of instinct. Like I'm naturally attracted to it, like my hands are meant to be holding it and use it against me. I try my hardest to stop it, sometimes I get to the point where I actually lay the blade on my skin, my arms moving by themselves. But I always manage to stop it, even if in the moment I think I won't. I am really trying my best. I was about to break again.

For once the feeling of falling doesn't scare me. Savannah invited me at hers. I won't forget it, I'm sure. And I won't forget all the nuclear bombs setting off in my chest right now.

I ring the doorbell. I hope I got the right house. The door opens.

"Hello, princess." Savannah smiles, leaning on the door. She makes zero effort and my body is heating just for that simple act. She's a step higher than me, which makes me feel even smaller than what I usually already do.

"Hey." I say shyly. Listen, it's nine in the morning, I would be asleep right now if I weren't here, let me have my moments.

"I see your sass is gone." She observes, amused.

"Sharp eye, Sherlock. I see your remarks aren't."

"Always here to annoy you. Wanna come in?" She steps aside, raising an eyebrow. That stupid eyebrow. It makes her so fucking attractive, but at the same time I want to shove it up her ass. I wonder if she'd get mad if I touch it.

"I'm actually considering going back home. Doesn't sound that fun as you promised."

"I promise I'll be a gentleman." As to prove her point, she curtsies. Idiot. I laugh and walk inside.