Chapter Text
The last thing she remembered was her texting Trent to come get her on a whim since she felt too light headed to drive and saying bye to DJ and the others as he dragged her into his car.
She hummed as she looked out the window while he started lecturing her, mostly tuning him out as her thoughts wandered off to different, much more important things.
Like how DJ could talk for hours about his interests, how calming his voice was to listen to. If she was having a bad day she'd feel better by just seeing his face, he was such a sweetheart...
Over the week and a half that had passed since he saw her crying, they'd become better friends, he'd listen to her vent and add his input, even when she knew she was wrong about something, he'd do his best to talk her through it and correct her on it in a way that made her both acknowledge her mistake and try to move forward on it. He gave her really useful advice on the Trent situation sometimes that could really help her relationship with him, she listened to him, why wouldn't she? It's fucking DJ! But did she act on the advice? Did she really want to mend her relationship with Trent? Uh, maybe?
She'd come to terms with the fact she liked DJ like 2 days ago when he showed her bunny and let her play with it, she appreciated it and showed him her pet lizard, Tommy. He screamed when he saw it, falling to the floor and shaking a bit before she had a talk with him about how most lizards were just as harmless as the fluffy animals he liked. He had the most adorable expression on his face as he warily tried to pet Tommy, holding her hand for support-- her fucking hand! Has a 6'5, embarrassingly cute angel ever held YOUR hand? I don't think so.
Oh, the things she wanted him to do with her...
She was interrupted from her thoughts by Trents voice.
"And why are you smiling now? What's so funny about anything I just said?!"
She frowned, still staring out the window. Oh boy.
"Nothing, Trent."
His eyebrows furrow and he turns off the engine, the car stopping at the side of the road. Gwen finally looks at him, lips pressed into a thin line.
"We need to talk."
She lets out a dry laugh. "Oh and why do we need to talk? Because I have a lot of things I like to get off my chest."
Trent runs a hand through his hair, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose as if he was about to talk to a petulant child.
"What are we doing, Gwen?" He looks at her. Really looks at her, the most he has in a long time.
Gwen swallows, averting her gaze from him. "Well, you were about to drive me back home before you decided to start questioning me." Fuck, she's not high enough for this conversation.
"Could you-- Could you just be serious for this one time?"
"I am being serious. Come on, lay it all out. Tell me all about how I'm being difficult. How you so wished I'd just be good and comply, how you desperately want me to conform to your vision of what a good girlfriend is! How--"
"You're yelling, Gwen."
"Shut the fuck up! I'm so sick of you, trying to.." she swallows, hating the way her voice cracks, the lump that forms in her throat, she's starting to feel nauseated. She takes a deep breath, collecting herself.
"All I've ever wanted is for you to like me for me, I didn't even care if you didn't like me for me. I just wanted you to like me, Trent. And you made me believe you did! How you always told me you'd still love me if I was different, still accept me even if we weren't, hell, never on the same page. I changed so fucking much for you, and it still wasn't enough! Is that what you want to talk about? How you made me feel like I'd finally found someone who likes me for me only to have a complete 180 after we started dating?"
A single tear drops as she stares at him. He's not even looking at her anymore, staring at the dashboard, his hands akwardly placed on his lap, like this was an inconvenience for him.
"Do you even like me, Trent? Did you ever like me?"
"Of course I did, I wouldn't date you if I didn't. Gwen, you need to understand. I'm the best option you have. This whole theatric you just put on... I'm the only guy you'll meet that's ever gonna tolerate that."
"What... What do you mean?"
Trent sighs. "Look, Gwen. You're 18, you creep a lot of people out, you bully poor Heather, you literally put an antfarm in her locker. You're brother is a raging pyro with serious issues, maybe even more than you. You have like 5 friends, you're not.. the most conventionally attractive girl in our class--"
"Yet I've fucked more people than you ever will in your limp dicked life!"
"You see, you always lash out! Always deflect, people call you a whore and I'm sorry but before you met me, you were. I made you better, Gwen. I almost fixed you, almost saved you."
Gwen stares at him, her earlier sadness gone and she stares into those bright emerald eyes she'd always thought she loved all she felt was pure unadulterated hatred for the guy sitting in the seat beside her.
She opens the door, getting out and slamming it as Trent gives her a look form inside.
"Crap, Gwen. I'm sorry just get in the car."
"Fuck you! Just get out!"
"It's 11 at night, Gwen, it's in your best interest for you to get in."
"I said get the fuck out! We're done!" She yells, her throat itching painfully as she exhausted her already weak vocal chords.
She hates herself so much. For thinking this could ever work out, everyone told her, everyone warned her but she'd be blinded by a fantasy. That their towns golden boy, the poster child that parents would pray for their kids to be like one day could actually like her, genuinely like her.
She promised herself she wouldn't cry as he actually drives off. The bastard actually drove off. She sits on the pavement, pulling his knees up to her chest and her head down, basking in her own utter patheticness. She was so fucked.
She sniffles, pulling out her phone and texting Duncan to come get her. He'd wandered off and never came back, now he wasn't answering her texts. I swear if he's banging some chick and can't even respond to his own sisters texts...
She screams briefly in frustration, scrolling and texting the only person she could bear to see right now, that she had to see right now.
.
Heather sat on a log next to Lindsay who was drunk out of her mind, seeming staring into the night, anyone would think she was blatantly ignoring the blonde, instead she couldn't help the slight smile that played on her lips as Lindsay rambled on.
"Okay, listen. No, wait, stop smiling, seriously! Okay, like, senior year is insane. It’s like, I blinked, and suddenly we’re here, about to, like, graduate and… move on or whatever? And it’s like… poof... childhood gone. I mean, how do they expect us to know what we’re doing next? Do they think we just wake up one day and go, 'Oh yeah, I’ll be a doctor now!'? *hiccup* Why do people always say 'the best years of your life,' huh? Like, are they serious? Do they KNOW how hard pre-calc is? I—*hiccup*—I can’t even figure out why x equals anything half the time... "
Heather snorts, biting back a retort, she didn't necessarily always want to make fun of her blonde friend, she genuinely didn't want to. Sometimes. Okay most of the time. It'd just become a habit, being snarky and mean, quick to shut down most advances people would make to know her, really know her, in a way that'd make her be vulnerable, open up and she did NOT want that. What if they double crossed her and use her secrets against her? Imagine the humiliation, what people would think when they heard that THE Heather Nakamura had let trivial things like friendship cause her demise.
".... Because what if—what if I trip in heels? I just… I can’t be the girl who falls on prom night. That’s like… so cliché... And also--" she bursts into laughter and Heather can't help the need to turn to face her, acknowledge her. God, she's so drunk she's actually paying attention to the shit.
"WHY do people care so much about senior superlatives? ‘Most Likely to Succeed’? Whatever. I don’t wanna be ‘Most Likely to Succeed.’ I wanna be… I wanna be the girl who, like… owns a fashion chain in Paris or something. Is that a thing? Wait. Is Paris even real? Like, how do we KNOW?"
Heather cringes." Paris does exist, Linds.. "
Lindsay ignores her. "But oh my gosh, college. My mom would literally… I don’t know… combust if I said I wanted to take a gap year or something. But what if I go and everyone’s smarter than me, and I’m just the girl who peaked in high school?... That's not gonna be me, right, Heath?"
Heather smiles at her, patting her head "Of course it's not gonna be you, Linds. You're pretty, have a heart of gold, ambitious, extremely fashionable and creative-- but, but anyways, you're going to be so much more than just the girl that picked in highschool, ya hear me?"
Lindsay stares at Heather, teary eyes, pulling her into a tight hug. "That's like super sweet, Heather! You’re my best friend for listening to all this. Seriously. You don’t even know. Like, when I’m rich and famous *pauses dramatically* I’m gonna buy you a pony. No, two ponies. And they’ll have, like, sparkly saddles and…wait, what was I saying?"
Heather smiles solemnly, not responding and simply hugging the blonde back.
She wishes she could just be happy, knowing she was someones best friend, wishes she could see the world through rose colored glasses in peace, blissfully unaware of how cruel and wicked the word could be--humans could be.
But that's all it'll ever be.
A wish.
Never a reality.
Always never a reality.