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What We Will Never Be
"45 minutes after we close, I'll be there." His voice; sweet, deep, and rich, like chocolate. They matched his eyes, which were warm brown and could melt a heart.
"Okay," my one word reply, which was all I could muster to him. My past enthusiasm had ruined our friendship, had ruined everything. He seemed unsatisfied with my answer, and a pang of sadness hit me as he randomly blurted out, "You're crazy." The line went dead and I managed to smile for my two best friends in the room.
They grinned back, hopeful that tonight would be as special as I planned it out in my head. Him and I weren't a "thing", but he always sent these crazy mixed signals. Four years of misinterpreted conversations, tears shed from harsh words and fights, waiting up when he said he would come over, and falling asleep in my own tears when he didn't.
Doubt settled into my stomach, but he had asked me to trust him, and I was going to do just that. "Guys, would you mind leaving at ten? I want to get ready and try to maybe look nice." Angela and Chris exchanged worried glances as I started brushing my hair. When I looked in the mirror mounted on my wall, I wished Emma was here. My true best friend. The one who would make me feel like a princess and do her best at making me look like one before Greg came over. She was thousands of miles away in England though, and I suddenly felt like crying. I couldn't even get in touch with her for last minute advice. This was all me this time. I'd have to do it all on my own.
I turned to consult Angela and Chris, but they were all over each other. They were both 19, and falling so hard for each other that they were acting like children. Poking and tickling each other. When I told Emma, she agreed with me; and very gently added in, 'It's okay to be jealous you know Lynn, you'll find someone of your own soon enough though.'
I realized then that I WAS jealous, so jealous that I was angry at them. I introduced the two of them to each other, and they slowly were forgetting about me. Chris instantly fell for Angela; and with a little persistence on Chris's part, he won Angela's heart too.
Emma was the same way, she got every guy she wanted and every guy she didn't. Countless times I wished that was me, and that Greg could some how be mine. I glanced up in the mirror then and remembered why. I was now 243 pounds, and somewhat short. My hair didn't hang right, my skin was blotchy and pimple-ridden. I was gross, and that was why. But I was determined to be different, I had to be.
At ten, my friends left hand in hand; wishing me luck as they left. The store Greg and I worked at closed at ten and was just around the corner. He said he'd be there 45 minutes after they were done closing, which usually took about 30. So I had roughly an hour and a half.
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11:15 and I was showered and shaved clean. My hair was crimped how Emma taught me to do it. I was wearing the cutest tank top I could find with my new bra sticking out of the top and black jeans with ripped knees. I even put on the make-up Emma got for me around Christmas. I told her I'd never use it, but she insisted that 'one day I'd need it'. I'd have to admit to her she was right when she got home.
I was almost afraid to look in the mirror. I revisited Emma's words of encouragement last time Greg and I went to the movies. 'If you think you look beautiful, you feel beautiful. Everyone looks different based on how they're feeling about themselves. You look great, don't worry.'
This was the first time Greg and I had gone to the movies, alone, in close to a year. Now he was 21, and I was 16. He wasn't your average 21 year old though. Ever since he was 18, Greg had been teaching me bike ticks and going to the beach with my dad and I. He was family, but I wanted him to be more. I wanted him to be mine. My dad loved him, and I loved him; now I just needed him to love me more then just a sister.
I stepped in front of the mirror and looked myself over. My bluegreen eyes sparkled, and for the first time since I was in the 7th grade, I smiled at what I saw. I was ready, I looked good.
With new found confidence, I went to my room and sprayed myself with my favorite perfume that Emma got me for my birthday. She said the smell reminded her of me, and I wore it every day since then.
When I finally sat down on my couch, it was 11:30. He should be here any minute. My heart started pounding with excitement and to avoid staring at the clock; I reached for my laptop and logged on to facebook.
I messaged Emma, telling her what was going on and asking her to call me when she got the chance. I chatted with a few people online to distract myself, and glanced at the clock to find that it was already midnight. My heart rose to my throat and I reached for my phone. No missed calls or texts.
A sick feeling rose in my stomach and I felt tears burn my throat. I replayed Greg's voice over in my head again, 'I know I've let you down a lot in the past Lynn, but I'm never going to bail on you again. Trust me.' Taking deep breathes, I decided not to worry. The last movies started at 1am, so if he got here within the next half our; we'd still make it.
I paced my living room in silence, trying not to panic. When my phone vibrated, I was sure it was Greg apologizing for being late, but it was the next best person. "Hey Emma."
She didn't waste time on greeting me, she never did. "Did you go to the bathroom to answer my call? You could have ignored it!" I smiled to myself, relieved to hear her voice. "No, he's not here yet." She was silent for a minute. "That's okay, you have time, don't panic." She knew me all to well and knew damn well I was panicking. So, in normal Emma fashion, she started blabbing about England stories. English boys, English cloths, English food. I listened intently, eager to distract myself. It only half worked, but was better then nothing.
12:30 came, no calls, no texts, and Emma was running out of things to talk about. "Why don't you call him?" I sighed, "I will right now, call me back in 5."
When she hung up, I went to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror and I looked different then I did an hour ago. My hair seemed flatter, the outfit didn't look as good, and my makeup didn't seem to look right. "It's in your head," I convinced my reflection.
With a deep breathe I dialed Greg's number. No answer. My heart sank a little more. I texted him, and as it was sending, Emma called back. "What did he say?" She asked before I could even say hello. "He didn't answer, he's probably driving over." She hesitated, "Yeah, probably." I knew that tone, she was starting to worry too. Greg had ditched me so many times, but Emma always tried to remain supportive.
I never actually tried this hard to make a night special. It wasn't a date or anything, but in my mind I was determined to turn it into one. I'd rehearsed and thought everything over, and tonight was my night to prove that I wasn't just some ugly girl he knew.
Emma chatted until 1. What I loved about her was, as always, she didn't make me contribute to the conversation. She knew I was worried, and she didn't try to pretend there was nothing to worry about.
Before I knew it, it was 1:30 in the morning. Tears were silently rolling down my cheeks. I knew I'd tried for nothing, and I knew Emma knew that too. She was quietly singing along to some English song her grandma taught her. She taught it to me and we always sang it together. Just like everything about Emma, her voice was perfect.
"Pretty trees, with little bees.
Yellow flowers, little yellow towers. All is right, at night when I think about you."
The last verse made me sob quietly and Emma was instantly silent. She didn't say anything for a good 10 minutes while I sobbed into the phone uncontrollably. With one last glance out my window that over looked the dark, abandoned street, I went in my room and slammed my door. I was home alone tonight; my dad went to sleep at his girlfriends since I told him I was going out.
When Emma heard me climb on my bed, she spoke up, "What if he shows up?" It was her last attempt to be positive. I smiled a little, not knowing what I'd do without her. "The movies all already started, so even if he does, we wouldn't be going anywhere." We were in the 'we both know it's not happening, but we're gonna still talk like it is' stage. In a half an our, we'd openly admit he wasn't coming. I laid in my dark room and mumbled the lyrics to Emma's songs with her. I couldn't sing, but she always made me feel like I could.
Emma was the most beautiful girl, a perfect size 2; and I still to this day, can't understand why she'd ever be best friends with someone like me for over 6 years. Most girls like Emma down talked the less pretty girls, but Emma always made me feel like gold.
2:00am came, and Emma sighed. I knew what was coming. "Go to sleep Lynn. Just think, I'll be home in 2 days, and we'll be having epic sleepovers for the rest of the summer." I shut my eyes and sniffled. "I know, I'll see you soon. I miss you so much." My voice broke and when she spoke, she sounded on the verge of tears too. "Miss you too bestie, I love you. And I'm so sorry, prince charming will come your way soon." I could only manage to whisper, "Love you too." She hung up, cutting what sounded like a quiet sob off. My pain hurt her, as she told me many times before.
I didn't even bother to change my cloths that night or get under the covers. I just shut my eyes and silently cried into my pillow until I guess I fell asleep.
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