Chapter 3.7~ Goodbye

I rose the next morning with heavy eyes, and a heavy heart. I hadn’t been released from my worries all night, having tossed and turned without stop for the entirety of the darkened hours. However, it had felt like seconds, as the whole time my mind was running ahead of my heart, making plans, trying to foresee the future, plan reactions and try to think of ways to balance them out. I realized in the early hours of the morning, when the black sky started to turn an off purple that this was foolish. There was no way I could know how Mango would react to my news, nor could I properly see how bad a shape I’d be in only hours from now either. After I’d realized this, time started to move by as slow as molasses, each minute seeming an hour, until I was nearly ripping my hair out. Seeing that sun peek over the horizon was a blessing like no other, being released from my bed which had become an emotional prison over the course of the night.

Padding through the hall, I stepped into the bathroom, the cold tiles of the floor sending shivers through my body. I looked at myself in the mirror, and chuckled bitterly. There was no way I’d be able to convince anybody that I was okay, feeling the same as normal. I looked a wreck. My eyes were perched upon dark bags, and my cheeks were stained with the tears of the night before. My usually smiling lips were being pulled down at the edges, as if attached to lead weights, and there were pinky-red blotches all over my cheeks, nose, and eyes from my muffled sobbing fits. I sighed heavily, and tried to think about something other than Mango, but found the only distractions to be my heavy heart, dry throat, and sick stomach, none of which were very savory options. I ran a comb through my hair hastily, wanting to get back to my room before everyone else needed the bathroom, and hence the hallway, and therefore putting themselves into a closer proximity to me than I’d like at the moment. I quickly unlocked the door, and scurried across the hallway to my room once again, and took a deep breath once I was behind the closed door. I had to get it together, and do what I had to do. There was no choice, so I may as well get it over with.

I quickly got dressed, and ran downstairs. No one else was up yet, but why would they be, it was seven o’clock in the morning on a weekend. I chugged a glass of milk, not risking more in my stomach, but needing something to stop the choking dryness of my throat. Then, I picked up the phone and dialed Mango’s number. Despite his getting home only today, I knew he’d be up already. He hated sleeping in.

“Hello?” he answered cheerily, knowing full well it was me.

“Hey.” I replied, trying to sound natural, but my voice came out closer to one of an old lady.

“You okay?”

“Y-yea. Fine. Getting a bit of a cold. Ah- uh, no that doesn’t matter. Can you meet me later?” I muttered, words running into each other in my rush to get them out.

“What? Yea, I guess. You sure you’re okay? You sound really sick, or something.”

“I’m fine, love. I’ll see you later. The park, at 2?”

“Yea, sure. Bye darl’.”

“Bye.” I choked, before hitting the end call button. I felt dirty, like a liar. I was leading him right into a trap.
Two o’clock came around faster than I’d planned, faster than I’d hoped. I’d wanted time, to prepare, to think of what I’d say. Tell the truth? Make up a lie? Say nothing of why, just leave him? It didn’t matter, as it seemed as soon as I put down the phone, and walked to my room, the hours evaporated, and I was leaving the house and walking to the garage for the car.

I sat on the soft seat of my the car my brother and I shared, old, dirty, but our own. It smelt a bit like my perfume, a bit like Astral’s cologne, and a lot like garbage. It calmed my nerves, helped my jumping heart to still a little, because it was familiar. It was normal, natural. It was me. I sighed heavily, figuring it’d be better getting it over with than postponing it, so I started the engine and reversed out of the garage, knowing that by the time I arrived back, I’d have lost my first love.

I parked the car on the street, and made my way through the short, wet grass of the park, taking in the strong smell of the fresh outdoors which I loved so much. I had mixed feelings about this park. It was gorgeous, and everything about it spoke to me, but it also hurt to be here. Hurt to know it was one of the last places Picton laid eyes on, and one of the places where he spent his most cherished hours. I wanted to believe that when I was at the park, he was there with me. It was comforting to think he was around, sometimes, giving me a helping hand when I most needed him. Like now.

I took a seat on one of the benches, which was warm under my skin despite the cool of the cloudy day afternoon. How apt it was, for my mood, for the occasion. I took a few moments to just breath, to relax, before scouring the area for Mango. I knew within seconds that he wasn’t there, I’d come to know if he was in an area or not by sense, a spark inside me told me he was near. There was no spark inside me at that moment. I let out an agitated huff, angry at my Mother for making me do this, angry at myself for choosing not to stand up for Mango, angry at Mango for drawing it out, and again angry at myself for getting to angry. Sometimes, being a teenager was the worst possible thing to be.

I was about ready to start pacing, when my phone buzzed obnoxiously in my pocket, alerting me to a message. I clicked the screen on, and scanned the words that appeared.

Hey bb. Can’t meet u 2day, Mom wants me to stay and help her with a few things. So sry, will make it up 2 u. Lots of love xx

I didn’t know what to do, and I certainly didn’t know what to feel. I knew I couldn’t go on another day with this war going on in my head, couldn’t live another day without sleep. Couldn’t live with myself for 24 more hours knowing I was going to break my love’s heart. And so, I took my phone and dialed the only number I’d ever call at a time like this.

“Hey, Shell? I need to talk to you.”

**

“You’re 100% sure you have to do this?” Eggshell asked me, worry causing her brow to form deep lines.

“Absolutely.” I managed, looking anywhere but her eyes, which only deepened the seriousness of the situation.

“Today?”

I nodded sourly, fighting to keep tears from falling from my eyes. Having actually told the story of what had passed in the last few days, it seemed a lot less dramatic. I guess you had to be a part of the plot for it to hurt this badly. I shivered visibly, despite the afternoon sky having cleared up and the Sun started beating down, emotion controlling my body.

“I don’t know what to do, babe.” Eggshell replied sadly, mouth turned downwards in sympathy. I looked at her, my best friend, and suddenly I knew what to do.

I pulled out my phone, and laid it on the table, staring at it like it was going to explode.

“What are you – No. Zu, listen to me. This isn’t a good idea.” Eggshell stated, realizing my plan.

“I have to!” I cried, trying to sound angry, but the voice that exited my mouth was more strangled than sure.

She shook her head sadly, knowing that it was no use fighting me. I took ti as a sort of consent, and gingerly picked up the phone. I stood from our table, and walked a few feet into the trees where my conversation might be covered.

I then hit the number that I’d come to know too well, and tried to swallow once to ensure my ability to talk.

“Hey.” Mango answered happily, making my stomach sink.

“Hi.”

“What’s up?”

“I’m breaking up with you.” I announced, voice barely a whisper, and each word harder to choke out than the last. My stomach sank, and my heart broke in two. It felt like I had someone sitting on my chest, making each breath impossible. It seemed like an eternity before he responded, a cold, shocked silence filling the line instead.

“What?” he asked eventually, not sounding angry like I’d expected, but hurt. Indescribably hurt, and it made me feel even worse.

“I’m sorry.” I said quietly, tears beginning to roll down my cheeks silently.

“I thought we were happy?” he demanded after a while, obviously trying to make himself sound angry, but even an idiot could hear the tears in his voice. He was crying. Because of me.

“We are. We were. It’s not you, Mango. I just – I can’t anymore.” I replied, the tears not so silent anymore.

Silence, then a sob. A heart wrenching, broken sob. The sob of a boy who’d given all his love to a girl who didn’t have the guts to make her own choices. A girl who wasn’t worth it. I couldn’t hold it back a moment longer, all the hurt, the anger, everything from that day and last night came pouring out, and I was crying down the phone like I had cried only once before – at Picton’s funeral. I couldn’t catch my breath fast enough to silence the noise, and every time I opened my mouth, I’d taste my own salty tears. This wasn’t okay. I shouldn’t be allowed to hurt someone so badly, for reasons that were not my own. I shouldn’t be allowed to feel pain this bad due to choices I had made.

“I’m so s-sorry.” I managed, hiccuping in between, and only to be met with a silent line. Suddenly, the phone was being lifted from my fingers, and I was able to sink to the ground and slink my arms around my body in an attempt to hold myself together.

“Hello Mango. Yea, this is Eggshell. I understand, but you have to continue this conversation later, neither of you are in any position to talk rationally. Goodbye.” Shell spoke into my phone, voice strong and cool, not judging Mango for his tears, nor me for mine. As soon as she’d said her bit, she ended the call, and sank the the ground beside me.

She tucked me under her arm like a mother bird would do her baby, and stroked my hair softly, cooing in my ear to sooth my shattered heart. Nothing she could say would help me, and all she could so was let me rest my head on her shoulder and cry.

And cry.

And cry.