Chapter 29

"Sometimes you just need to distance yourself from people. If they care, they'll notice. If they don't, at least you know where you stand."

Anonymous.

"So," Red babbles, "sorry for acting like that but... I can't deny the fact that I've noticed how badly he treats you."

We're sitting on the dust-covered, crimson-red chairs of the secret place. The daylight illuminating the ink-black dark room and the quiet soothing us from our pain. Footsteps cause loud thuds to arise, making the walls shake and the battered floor boards to creak. A lot of unsaid words hang in the air, the seldom conversation replaced with the frequent thudding of our hearts and shift of boxes, as Red makes himself comfortable.

I took the initiative to bring him here. Yes, I understand that if I tell everyone about this place, it won't be much of a secret. However, as I sit opposite Red, smiling a little brighter, feeling a little lighter and laughing a lot louder, I know that I've done the right thing. I know that I can trust him because he is my friend. He knows what he's doing.

Red, finally managing to move the surrounding boxes out of his way, lifts his head up. From his puffed chest, clenched fists and determined look, I can infer that he's deciding to be upfront with me. Taking deep breaths, he makes an effort to remain eye contact, opening his mouth, only to close it again in hopes that he'll phrase the next sentence correctly. Honestly, his demeanour is throwing me off quite a bit. Nonetheless, I am prepared to listen to him.

"To say the least, it's just aggravating to witness such rudeness on his part. Wyatt's been ignoring you, even I can tell and I've only known you for a short time!" He exclaims.

"I know but..."

"Please," he interjects, "let me finish."

Giving him my approval, I nod, signalling that he may continue. Once I've done this, Red reciprocates this action, quickly resuming his narrative.

"I use to see you guys all over the place," he explains. "Walking home together, laughing together in the corridors. Granted, I thought it was weird that he was so...into you but then you helped me, and I couldn't help but be fascinated by you."

"Red..." I begin, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Again, please let me finish," he pleads politely, eyes full of innocence and sincerity.

"Go on," I sigh.

"Thank you," Red replies. "As I was saying, you guys were basically two peas in a pod but now, you're both so distant, so reserved."

The sound of breathing becomes more audible as the air thickens. Keeping my head down, I bite my lip, wishing that his observation wasn't so accurate. Sitting there, I can not even begin to say how ashamed I am to admit that I still want Wyatt's friendship. I still crave for the days where we'd talk about nothing but somehow being together meant everything. I still need the moments of wholesomeness, of joy.

"Things between him and I haven't been going smoothly," I mumble. "I want our relationship to go back to the way it use to be, however I feel like I'm treading on egg shells."

"How?" Red asks.

"Think about it, if I were to make another mistake which potentially jeopardises our friendship, then he'd probably decide to take the same approach and ignore me," I sob.

"Oh Blue, don't cry," Red sighs and then quickly crosses over to give me a brief hug.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry," he whispers into my hair. "I believe that after today, he learnt his lesson.

"I hope so," I think. "Because I really don't  want to be hurt again.

...

The next few days go as followed: Wyatt stays away from me, occasionally glancing at me from the corner of his eye before directing his attention to something else. If we're standing next to each other, he makes an attempt to talk to me, every once and a while holding my hand and caressing my cheek. If we're in class , he will make a joke to lighten the mood and sometimes, when he sees me heading to the secret place, he'll try and head there as well, in order to get us alone.

Unfortunately for him, Red is on high alert, attentive and watchful, always entertaining me whenever I'm at my lowest. He never leaves me out of his sight, determined to keep me away from Wyatt. I remind him that although his intentions are lovely, I can look after myself and that instead of pushing him away, I want Wyatt and I to go back to the way we use to be.

Of course, Red dismisses these comments, stating that I shouldn't stress over anything, that he's got it under control.

We hang out before school, during school and after school. He insists that he takes me home everyday and when he thinks I'm distracted, holds my hand, creating my stomach to erupt in butterflies. Before he leaves, he places a kiss on my forehead and utters his goodbyes as he waves.

There are times when we're walking home, that we talk about the HeadMistresses two week time period, which by the way, is rapidly approaching. Consoling me, Red is assured that there are absolutely no cameras present near the water fountains and fortunately for me, that fact mollifies my anxious mind.

Clearly, my mother doesn't approve of my new friends presence. She thinks Red has ulterior motives, she thinks that after he 'gets what he wants,' he'll put a full stop to our friendship, just like Wyatt. Mother hasn't failed to recall me of my errors.

Red accompanies me home every day, except for Fridays. His athletics club prevents him from doing so, therefore I leave school at the end of the day, wishing him success on his practices.

On this particular Friday, I did just that, ambling down the corridors as I clutched my bag. I was forced to help Mr Thunderman arrange his books in chronological order, meaning the narrow hallways were completely deserted.

My shoes squeak on the clean, marble floors whilst I take out my phone to check the time. In the far end of the hall, I can hear the soft hum of the janitor's music. Doors slam shut, the loud click created as it locks resonating throughout the school.

"These last few days have been nice," I think. "No trouble, no drama, just plain ordinary. Just how I like it."

Well that's what I thought, until I pass the janitor's closet.

A mysterious hand, pulling me inside.