Vol.4 rewrite, Chapter VI — Our Friend Can be Such a Pain

After a whole weekend of rest and nursing her, Violet was looking a lot better. There was still room for improvement, but undeniably better.

Part of it was visible by how she walked, mostly going up stairs, but she now walked with her back straight and with steps of equal length.

Something that was certainly helping — aside from the medication — were good nights of sleep and the amount of water she was drinking, practically two whole litre-and-a-half bottles!

“Is Mathilda not coming today?” Violet asked Mathew as she set her things on our desk, her question echoing my thoughts as we arrived for the Math class and didn’t see her and the usual crowd surrounding her.

“She either overslept after spending the whole night watching movies, or she’s having one of her fits,” Mathew told us with his usual disinterested voice.

“One of her fits?” Violet repeated.

“What do you mean?” I asked while also wondering why Violet was still standing.

He shrugged and told us that all he’d say was “good luck with that” since us three were close.

Violet hummed, having grown uninterested in pursuing this conversation any further and told me she was going to the bathroom and that I could stay since I already sat down. Since she was almost minty-fresh, I obliged her words while also following her walking away with my eyes so to not be too overbearing. When out of sight, I looked at her water bottle now that it was on the table. A quarter of it was missing already, explaining why she had to take her leave.

“She’s looking better now,” Mathew commented, surprising me that he even said anything about it.

“Yeah, thank goodness for that,” I said, letting out some of my pent-up worry escape. “This weekend was rough.”

“Being a girl sure sucks sometimes, huh?” he said, maybe trying to be considerate—whether he wanted to or not, he was aware of her cycle—but irking me a bit because what he was implying was an oversimplification of what caused all our troubles these past couple of days. I still gave him my agreement because even if it was oversimplifying, it had also contributed greatly to it.

“Hey guys!” Stephen greeted cheerfully. “What’s up?”

“Dude. Why are you acting so cheery? It’s kinda gross.”

“Just happy to see your lovely face after the weekend, Mathew deary.”

“You sure know how to make a guy go weak on the knees,” Mathew retorted with sarcasm so thick in his voice, you could spread it on bread.

The two laughed at their exchange, making me wonder how boys can have such conversations and remain friends.

I guess it’s just how they show their love for one another?

It also sounded preferable to me over the falsities I grew up in. Whenever someone who isn’t close to me gives me a compliment, I still question myself what is it that they want from me, or if they really mean it.

“Seriously though, what got you in such a good mood?” Mathew asked, now sounding legitimately curious. “Met a hot chick or something?”

“Nah man, nothing like that. Although… now that you mention it—”

“Hey,” Mathilda greeted, having finally arrived. She looked as upset as upset could be. By the way she shot a glare at Stephen and aggressively planted her bag on the table, I got a very bad feeling he was the cause of her bad humour.

“Is everything ok?” Stephen asked.

“Yes.”

“Really? Because, I can see you’ve been crying. If it’s some—”

“Oh my God, Stephen! Butt off!” she barked at him.

The two were staring at each other, and the whole class at them too. Then, Mathilda looked like she was regretting it as she looked down.

“Just leave me alone for today, please,” were her final words to him as she sat down.

He kept staring at her for a moment, Mathilda looking deflated over her desk and avoiding looking at us, before checking the classroom clock and getting up.

As he walked off, he crossed paths with Violet and the two exchanged a brief greeting as they kept walking on opposite directions, Violet asking where he was going so close to the class starting as she rejoined us.

None of us knew and telling her that was followed by her greeting Mathilda and asking if everything was ok. Unlike Stephen, she didn’t prod any further after getting a “I’m fine,” from our friend, instead taking her seat and looking concerned.

“Good morning class!” Miss Maple said as she walked. “Please go to your seats so we can start rollcall and class.”

Today’s attire was looking fresher. She had seemingly ditched the business-casual look that leaned more to the business side and embraced the latter more, coming now to school with slightly heeled brown shoes, slim-cut dark blue jeans with a leather belt matching her footwear, and a tucked in short-sleeved button-up white shirt. The boys were loving it and the girls too while also most probably envious of not being able to dress however they wanted and the attention she was getting. Me? Well, as a taken girl, I appreciated her looks and style while remaining respectful of my partner. One thing is for sure, it sure was lightyears better than staring at a walking dried-out bitter prune smelling of mothballs.

Rollcall started, but Stephen wasn’t back yet.

Impressively enough, our teacher was calling our names first while looking straight to our faces before even looking down to her notebook, showing how she had both memorised our names and faces as well as where we sat by the start of our second week. Had she perhaps been studying the class book and sitting arrangement in her spare time? That’d also be impressive and something I should aspire to do in the future.

Everything was proceeding as normal until Stephen finally came back at the middle mark holding a chocolate bar, Miss Maple calling him out for both of those offenses.

He stopped and looked at her, beginning to explain he had something to take care of and that he got the chocolate for somebody else.

“And couldn’t it have waited until the end of the class?”

“…I’m sorry, I know this is completely unrelated, but did you cut your hair over the weekend?”

Her angry look disappeared as she cocked her head back and blinked rapidly.

“Don’t tell me the hairdresser cut it too much,” she said, now sounding worried.

“Not at all,” Stephen said casually. “It’s subtle, but it looks good on you.”

I realised something. Stephen is what can arguably be the worst type of lady’s man: one that has a way with words around them and is completely oblivious to it, this time completely disarming our teacher with his honesty and forwardness enough that she completely forgot that she was supposed to be mad at him, simply asking him to sit down.

Miss Maple might be a bit of a pushover too.

Way better than what we had before on yet another aspect. At least with her we could reason with.

Before sitting down, he walked up to Mathilda’s desk and set the chocolate on her table.

“It’s not much, but I hope this helps you cheer up,” he told her before heading back to his seat, not seeing how Mathilda looked on the verge of tears as she stared at the chocolate.

“Anyway, where was I?” Miss Maple wondered out loud, having regained her composure. “Ah, yes!”

Five names later, and it was Violet’s turn. There was again a pause after her name was called.

“I’m glad to see that you’re looking better,” our teacher told her with a smile after Violet had answered.

“Oh, erm, y-yeah,” she staggered, not having expected such kind words. “Sorry if I made you worry.”

“Oh, but I do. In fact,” she said, now directing her words to the rest of the class. “As a teacher, I worry about you all, so please, stay properly hydrated and avoid staying out under the sunlight when it’s at its strongest, ok? And I know the holidays ended just recently and you might have gotten plenty of bad habits and you spend a lot of time at school and studying, but do try to have a proper sleep hygiene too.”

Yup, our teacher sure is kind, unlike the girl Vanessa who I noticed throwing a weird look at my Violet while Miss Maple commented on her healthier appearance. Just what was her problem with my Violet?

◊◊◊

Friendship means a lot of things.

It means having people you feel comfortable around, that you can have fun with, share your hopes and dreams, give each other a boost, and all that nice stuff.

It also means being there and support them even if they are being a pain, and right now, Mathilda was being a huge pain.

She had dragged us all the way to her place and went straight to sitting us on her pink bed while she hugged a pillow in the foetal position to say the same thing non-stop.

“I’m so stupid! Why do I even care!?” she cried out for the hundredth time since we got to her place. “I should just give up and move on already!”

At least now I was certain it was about Stephen and what Mathew meant by her having one of her fits. And why all the other girls who knew her stayed clear all day long.

“For starters, what happened?” Abby asked, sounding far more patient than I was feeling.

“Well, you see… since you two were out having a nice romantic date and acting all lovey-dovey,” she said, starting to sob but not crying yet, making me cringe doubly so for her reminding me of the weekend and her attitude combined. “I thought to myself that I should try and do the same. So, I took a nice bath, put on a nice perfume and cute clothes and make-up, did my hair all pretty and went to give him a surprise visit.”

Kudos to her for finally taking some initiative, but with this set-up, I was already expecting for something to go horribly wrong. Then again…

“So, I make my way to his shop, and… and… and…”

“…And?” Abby asked, patting Mathilda’s foot to try and calm her down.

“And there was a girl flirting with him!” she said, now opening the faucets of her eyes. “Why does this had to happen when I decide to try!? I even waxed my legs!”

“Good grief,” escaped me as I sighed, getting Mathilda mad at me and asking if she was wrong for feeling this way with her face almost shoved against mine.

It didn’t feel like I could reason with her, and I very much doubt that I could have voiced my thoughts without making it worse, but luckily—and as always, Abby stepped in.

“I don’t think she meant it that way,” my girlfriend said. “Don’t forget that Violet is also not on top of her game either despite how much better she looks. She’s just exasperated by you hyper focusing on stuff that doesn’t really matter in the grand-picture and most likely, how that reminds her of us both before we started dating. Don’t get us wrong, it was good that you took the initiative and went to such length to look good, but when it came to take real action, you backed away, didn’t you? And now you’re talking of giving up too?”

She voiced more of my own thoughts than I had hoped. I was sure she’d say it in a softer way, but for some reason, she chose the blunter path. I did have a guess—two, actually—as it was quite obvious to me.

“But she was flirting with him!” Mathilda insisted. “The two were laughing and she was even touching his arm!”

“So?” Abby asked, not backing down. “Next time that happens, walk up to him and hug his arm tight to your chest while greeting him and ask who the other girl is. Make her think that he’s already taken. At least you’re marking your territory that way instead of getting mad and come up with excuses about why things don’t go your way.”

I nodded as she finished talking, finding that to be a very good way to both get her feelings across to him and to whoever comes to try snatching him for themselves.

She stared at us on all fours until she sat down in a curled position and hugged the pillow again, partially hiding her face behind it.

“Won’t that be too obvious?” she asked in a weak voice, having now gone to acting cute.

“Again, so?” Abby said. “You should at least give it an honest try instead of folding and giving up like that. We are on our second year of high school, do you really have time to waste?”

“…True… I do want to try some of that high school romance I see in films and stuff…”

I’m still not sure if movies are a good example to follow, but if it got Mathilda to act, then sure, all the power to her. At least it wouldn’t be as annoying to hear her complain if she failed while she was actually trying. Moping around while doing nothing reminded me a bit too much about me and Abby before we started dating and got on my nerves otherwise.

Is that also why Abby is being so frontal?

That could be it, along with my previous two guess, those being her worry over my health and the relationship with her sister taking real estates in her mind.

“Ok, but… can I still vent out a bit?” she asked, unfurling a bit and taking the chocolate Stephen had given her out of her bag. Was it even solid after so many hours in her bag with the heat we were having? No, not really, but it wasn’t stopping her from having some of it. “I still wanna complain about how it annoys me that he’s so nice to every girl and not just me or… And I also wanna hear about how wonderful your date was.”

I looked at Abby without uttering a word, or eyes meeting. There was no need for talk because the sour face I was making was the same as Abby’s, Mathilda’s eyes widening in surprise and confusion as we looked back at her.

“It was godawful,” I told her.

“Yup, worst date ever.”

“Huh!? How!? Why!?” she asked, getting on all fours again, practically shouting in our faces with uneven chocolate lipstick. “You two are looking so good, I was sure you had a great date!”

I’d rather not talk about it, but… if it helped her avoid the same mistakes…

“Haah, ok, so… the thing is,” I began, pushing her back into a sitting position and hoping that she wouldn’t be too much of a pain after hearing about it.

“Before telling her about it, you’re staying at my place, right?”

“Hmm? Erm, no, I—”

“Sorry, I made it sound like a question when it wasn’t,” she said, stopping me with a raised hand and uncannily serious face. “You’re staying at my place tonight.”

I’d rather not keep on intruding and making it harder for the sisters to patch up, but… Abby wasn’t looking like she’d let me argue about it. Frankly, I didn’t have it in me either. I still felt tired and after worrying her so much, the least I could do was comply until I was feeling good enough.

We’ll talk about it later.

For the time being, I’d go along with what she said. It was the best option, all things considered.

“Hmm, thanks. I appreciate it,” she said, smiling reassured. “I’ll let you tell the story now.”

No, please, take over!

Well, Abby wasn’t opening her mouth. She did save my bacon a few minutes before, so I guess it was fair. I also took it as a form of self-punishment and another opportunity to reflect on my actions yet again. I’d be doing the latter a lot in the next few days.