It read, Where’s your mom? Fucking another rando I take it?
Eric’s feelings toward my mom hadn't changed a bit. He hated her, and maybe I should have stuck up for her, but she’d made a lot of bad choices. There was no taking back what she’d done. There were no valid excuses.
Grabbing another piece of paper, I wrote, Vulgar much? and held it up.
There was a brief moment where I almost scribbled, Where’s your dad? Fucking another blonde? But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. The old Madeline was rolling around in her grave, kicking and screaming to be let out, but something held me back. Maybe I truly have changed. Maybe I just wasn’t that girl anymore. Maybe that version of me was gone forever.
I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Was it okay that I was becoming submissive and holding back the mean, crass comebacks that used to lift me up? Was I suddenly turning nice?
That wasn’t a very comforting thought, because nice girls got stomped on, and I’d be damned if I got stomped on again.
Once I glanced at Eric’s window again, after holding up the Vulgar much? note, he was gone.
The disappointment was like an oncoming train heading right through the window and into my room. I could basically see the steam from the engine as I began to turn around, infuriated with myself that I was actually allowing myself to feel let down over the boy next door who still very well hated me, but then something caught my eye.
What are you doing, Eric?
Eric was in his driveway, wearing black joggers and a long-sleeve English Prep shirt pulled up to his forearms, bouncing a basketball with his hands. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him outside playing basketball. It had been years.
Memories of us that I’d had locked away started to surface, and my heart grew warm. Those were the memories I’d always shied away from because they reminded me of what I’d left behind in my selfishness.
When the ball stopped bouncing and Eric snapped a smirk in my direction, I bit down on my lip. He raised an eyebrow, flicking his hair off his forehead.
Does he…?
He mouthed the words, What are you waiting for?
I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. That was what I was waiting for. Did he really want me to go down there and play basketball with him? Like we were back in middle school again?
Do not go down there.
What if I went down there and he turned around and went inside, only to make me feel like an idiot for believing that he wanted me to play basketball with him? I would not let myself look like a desperate girl with high hopes for a guy who wanted nothing to do with her.
Eric and I were nothing more than long-lost friends turned into rivals.
I was his foe.
And embarrassingly enough, he was my ally.
We were on opposite sides with very different feelings.
I gave him another quick glance, ready to shake my head, when he threw me for a complete loop.
He smiled.
Eric just smiled at me.
And it was beautiful. It was a quick glimpse of that twelve-year-old boy who I was happiest with. My phone buzzed as I pulled my dazed gaze away.
Eric- Stop trying to fool yourself into thinking you have big plans for tonight…get down here, loser.
I texted back quickly, swatting at the butterflies.
Me- Or what?
Why was I flirting with him? Why was I flirting with the guy who told me he was going to ruin my life?
My resolve fell just as fast as it climbed. He’s also the guy who has been chasing away your nightmares.