The rest of Thursday was surprisingly nice. I didn’t even feel that sick, even though I’d felt like dying the day before – or maybe I was just so used to being sick all the time. I spent the day following Deon around the school, thinking about Beau, and annoying the crap out of my protector.

“Can you just fucking watch where you’re going?” Deon hissed at me after I had walked straight into him for the hundredth time.

I snapped out of my daydreams and turned to look up at him. He was glaring at me with a deep frown on his face.

“Sorry,” I sighed and realized we were standing in the parking lot.

“Why are you still following me?” he asked. “I’m not taking you home.”

“I was – I was thinking about something…” I muttered.

I was thinking about Beau, and my body had followed Deon on autopilot. He was still looking at me, and I realized he was waiting for me to leave him alone.

“Oh, I uh… I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said and hurried to walk towards the gates.

“Fine – I’ll take you home,” I heard Deon shouting after me. “But only because you’re still sick.”

I smothered a smile and turned to look at him. “You don’t need to. I can walk.”

“Just get in the car already,” he said with an annoyed voice.

I walked back to the car and sat down in the passenger’s seat. Deon fired up the engine and backed away from the parking space. I saw Beau standing next to his car, clearly looking at me. He didn’t look happy, and when I tried to wave at him, he looked away. I frowned and my good mood was washed away instantly. I turned my gaze to my hands on my lap and tried not to feel so absolutely miserable.

“So you two are back on terms then,” Deon noted.

“I…” I muttered, but I had no idea what to say to him, so I shut up.

Deon didn’t ask me to continue – of course he didn’t because he didn’t care. I’d already learned he would say something and lose interest in the conversation right after. I guess he was just saying his thoughts out loud without meaning to start a conversation.

We sat in silence for the rest of the way, and once we reached my home, he just nodded to me when I told him goodbye. I didn’t pay much attention to it – I was still thinking about Beau. He had looked really angry. Was he jealous?

I decided to send him a message and ask if everything was all right. But he didn’t answer. I waited for hours, but I got no reply, even after I sent him another text. And another one. I crawled on my bed and stared at the phone, hoping he would answer already, but no matter how long I waited, nothing.

Had I ruined everything already? He was obviously angry about me hanging out with Deon. Did he expect me to stop hanging around Deon, just like he had stopped seeing Sabrina? If he had, why hadn’t he said anything? Or was it so obvious that normal people didn’t need to be told things like that?

“Did I screw up already?” I whispered to my phone.

I spent the evening crying myself to sleep. I had written a new word in my black notebook. Screw-up. I always screwed everything up, no matter how hard I tried. When I got out of my bed the next morning, there was loose hair all over my desk, but I just swiped them on the floor.

I checked my phone, but I had no new messages or phone calls, like I had predicted. Beau was already mad at me. I’d been given one chance to be happy again, and I already screwed it up.

I sniffed and looked up to stop the new tears from falling on my cheeks. Once I managed to calm myself down, I walked into my bathroom to take a shower. While I stood there, under the hot water, I studied Beau’s name on my arm. The image wasn’t that big, each letter was just half an inch wide, but it was screaming-red on my pale wrist.

I turned to look at my sink, and the small cabinet under it. I kept my razor blades there, and for a moment I played with the thought of using them again. Maybe this time I would cut too deep, and just end it all already.

But I didn’t. Once again, I was too scared to do it. What if Beau hadn’t seen me at all and had been angry at something else? Or the sun had been just shining too brightly, so he was frowning because of that?

I came up with a hundred reasons for why Beau had looked so angry. I had to believe that it wasn’t because of me. Maybe he had lost his phone? Maybe someone had stolen it, and that was why he couldn’t answer me?

When I stepped out of the shower, I was still feeling miserable, but at least I was more interested to hear what Beau had to say, than to kill myself on the spot.

I looked at myself in the mirror, the puffy eyes and the dark circles around them. I was a pitiful human being who had to come up with thousands of explanations for why I shouldn’t kill myself just yet. I knew that by the end of the day, I’d just end up being hurt again, but I was still stupid enough to try.

 

*****

 

I was surprised to see Deon being early for school for once. I was hiding in my usual place at the back entrance when he stopped right next to the bushes and kicked the branches to let me know he knew I was there.

“Where’s my coffee?” he asked grumpily.

“I wasn’t sure–” I tried to say, but he stopped me.

“Get my damn coffee. Now!” he hissed at me.

I shook my head and gathered my stuff before crawling out of my hiding place. Deon seemed even angrier than usual.

“Hurry up. Meet me in class,” he spat and marched away.

“What’s his problem?” I muttered under my breath, following him inside.

When he headed towards the classroom, I went to get his coffee from the cafeteria. And of course, the second I stepped in, I spotted Beau. With at least three girls. There were other guys and girls too, but I couldn’t help but notice the three particular ones were obviously fighting for his attention.

I turned to look away and marched to the coffee machine. I could feel the cold shivers of betrayal running down my spine, and the big, ugly lump of jealousy forming in my stomach. It was just yesterday when Beau had kissed me thoroughly and asked me out. And now, when I turned to walk past him again, he didn’t even look at me. I was air to him.

I hurried to Deon before he’d get any angrier. I found him leaning against the wall opposite to our classroom door, with his eyes closed like he was having a major headache.

“Here,” I said with a tiny voice, and he grabbed the cup from me without even saying thank you.

He gulped half of it down, while I just stood there in front of him. I had no idea what to do. I couldn’t decide whether to go home and just kill myself, or stay at school and be yelled at by Deon, and count how many girls Beau had already swooned with his good looks. My head was such a mess that I couldn’t even decide if I should move.

I stared at the wall next to Deon, fiddling with the sleeve of my hoodie nervously. At some point Deon seemed to notice my distress, but he didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure if I was waiting for him to say something, anything, to ease my pain – I couldn’t think of any other reason why I was still standing there.

“You look like you could use strawberry ice cream,” he finally said.

I nearly started to cry at that moment. It was the kindest thing anyone had ever said to me. I wanted to hug him, but he’d only get mad at me if I did, so I tried my best to fight off my emotions. I found it actually quite comforting that he was there, showing me some sympathy, even though he had just been angrier than ever.

When the bell rang, and the teacher opened the door, I felt Deon’s hand brushing my shoulder lightly before he tossed the empty coffee cup to the trashcan. Without saying a word, he waited until I had recollected myself, and together we walked into the classroom.

We sat down at our usual desks, and when Beau walked in, I kept my eyes strictly on my book. I saw Deon looking at me shortly before he focused on his textbook.

The day went by in silence. I followed Deon around, just like always, carrying his bag and books and keeping an eye out for the teachers when he was smoking and even when he suddenly had the urge to go unscrew the lids of every saltshaker again. We hardly talked at all. Deon was still being grumpy, and when the lunch break started, he wasn’t laughing when his little prank took effect.

Beau kept treating me like air, and I decided to do the same. I just followed the scent of Deon’s leather jacket and the thick air of tobacco. I once stopped to wonder why the teachers didn’t say anything about it when they passed us by – they must’ve smelled the smoke on him.

By the end of the day, Deon took me home again. I didn’t even ask him to, but he still did. He even offered to buy me that strawberry ice cream, but I told him it wasn’t necessary. He looked like he wanted to force me to eat one, but he gave up and drove me home.

“I’ll call you when I’m coming, okay?” he said when I was getting out of his car.

I wanted to believe his voice sounded worried, like he feared I wouldn’t be around anymore when he was done having fun. I wasn’t sure if he was worried or not, but that image in my head was enough to keep me around.

It was sad how desperate I was to find solace even in the smallest of things, and in the shortest of words.

“Okay,” I told him, and smiled a little for the first time in that day before closing the door.

I watched him drive away, and the smile I had grew a little bigger. It would be great if Deon would just admit that we were friends, but maybe he was slow to warm up to people. I appreciated his effort at trying to comfort me more than he would ever know, and no matter what he said, I thought of him as my friend.

That had been my deepest wish for quite some time now – to have a friend. And it looked like my wish had come true, no matter how reluctant Deon was to admit it.