KAYLA CORBYN
Saturday, June 29th
8:31 AM, unknown location
My eyes flutter open as I begin to awaken. I rubbed my eyes and blinked, my eyes slowly adjusting to the bright sunlight shining in the room.
As I sit up from my position, my head starts to pound and I soon realize that I am wearing a baggy t-shirt- that sure isn't mine, and no pants, just my underwear.
Wait.
Where am I?
This isn't my bedroom... I am on a couch, in someone else's house.
Trying to retrace my steps and remember how I ended up at this random place isn't working, my mind is too clouded.
And that's when I noticed a boy, lying fast asleep on the floor next to the couch. He looks around my age, maybe a year older, his hair covering the top half of his face.
I tried to get up off the sofa without waking him up, but end up stubbing my toe on the side of the coffee table in the process, yelping in pain then scolding myself for being loud.
I never was the stealthy type.
He groaned as he started to wake up. He had curled, dirty blond hair that swept across to one side and mysterious green eyes.
We both stared in silence until the blond boy spoke.
"Morning Sunshine... didn't expect you to be up so early,"
"Who are you calling me Sunshine? Also, where am I? And who the hell are you?" I said, rubbing my stubbed toe.
He raises an eyebrow and confusion plasters his face. "Do you remember anything from last night? Don't you recognize me?"
I looked at the boy as if he had said something dumb, which he did. "Do you think I would be asking if I knew?"
"No need to for the sarcasm, Sunshine. You are at my apartment," he chuckled.
"Well thank you for that discovery, Sherlock," I scoffed and rolled my eyes.
"Still sassy," he laughed, getting up from the floor, heading to the kitchen. "Do you want anything to drink?"
"Uh- coffee... and a Panadol, please... Now, can you explain what happened yesterday?"
"Well yesterday, I found you curled up in a ball on the sidewalk with a broken nose. Said someone smashed your face in with a door. I helped you up, took you to a doctor and we went for dinner. We got pretty drunk so I'm not too surprised you don't remember and I didn't know where you lived so I brought you to my place to crash and yeah here we are now. Here's your coffee and Panadol," he said, handing me the mug and pill. "Could you pass me my glasses, please?"
"Wait wait wait, Josh?" I asked, looking around for his glasses.
"Justin. My name's Justin. The glasses are on the coffee table, by the way."
"Why am I not wearing pants?"
His eyes flickered to my thighs for a split second before darting back up to mine. "I- don't worry, I didn't even notice. The t-shirt is long enough to cover."
An awkward silence omits and I take a big gulp of my coffee. Little too strong for me- could've added a bit more cream and sugar.
"Thank you," I blurt out trying to make it less awkward, only making it worse.
His lips curve into a bright smile making me smile too. "You're most welcome. It was my pleasure."
"Hey, can I get your number? Maybe we can link up again soon," I wink and hand him my phone.
"Definitely. You can change in my room, your dress is on the bed."
"Thanks," I reply swiftly.
I head into his bedroom to take off his shirt and put my dress from last night back on.
Justin seems genuinely friendly.
A little too friendly.
It's pretty rare for a stranger to help you when you're laying in the streets with a broken nose. Most people leave you to fend for yourself. But not Justin. He surprisingly helped me and treated me to dinner.
Odd, innit?
Or am I just overthinking...
Exiting the bedroom, I head over to Justin and give him a sweet and short embrace, getting a whiff of his orange-scented hair conditioner. "Well, it was great seeing you again. I've got to run. Places to be, people to see, you know?"
He opens the apartment door. "Yeah, I understand! Have fun."
"See you soon!" I wave goodbye as he shuts the door.
"Oh yes, you will, Kayla Moon."
JAZLYN PARKER
Saturday, June 29th
10:36 AM, the garden
We all have someone we never speak of.
Someone who meant so much, that even hearing their name makes your throat tighten, your spine tingle, your soul tremble.
Someone who triggers the memories and pain you tried and tried and tried to forget.
Someone who makes your heart shrivel a little more every time you see something that reminds you of them.
It's those things that remind me that some friendships are irreplaceable, impossible to recreate or replace. No matter the person.
That's not the case for me, however.
You probably thought I was talking about Kayla, weren't you?
Yes, there was a time when everything reminded me of her and I felt sad and missed her, but our petty little argument was a year ago, and I don't have time to be saddened and depressed.
I have a life to live.
People come and go, that's just how life goes.
I moved on.
Yet here I am, in our old hang out spot. Revelling in the memories.
The garden- an abandoned backyard behind our high school, is the place we used to hang out as kids.
It was a complete dump when we found it; leaves everywhere, globs of mud splattered throughout, and even a massive rat infestation. But with teamwork and a fair bit of money, we turned it into an amazing space where we would spend most of our time in.
You couldn't get us out of there.
My spot was in the hammock, Malachi- being the reckless one, was always in the big oak tree, Oliver liked the beanbag chairs and Kayla... well she had this one blanket that no one else could touch.
If you touched it, you get the death stare.
Then all hell breaks loose.
And that's not a pretty sight.
Ask Oliver.
~~~
I sit in the hammock for a few hours, reading one of my all-time favourite books; One of Us is Lying, until someone- may God have mercy their soul, enters the garden.
"Well, well, well. You following me around, Parker?"
A groan escapes my lips.
Adrian Hollander.
The brown-haired, dark-skinned 6'2 high school jock. He played for the football team, he was the coach's favourite student, however, behind closed doors he was such an arrogant jerk. Scaring and abusing people into doing his dirty work for him.
Well, not to me.
He's always been a softie for me.
"He simps for you," were Malachi's exact words.
Those two have never seen eye-to-eye. Ever. No matter what, they had to make everything into a competition. Who could score the most goals, who could flirt with the most cheerleaders, who could get the most numbers, the list goes on and on.
Boys, I swear.
"The hell do you want, Hollander?"
"Nothing, Parker. Just came to clear my head, you?"
What is this nonsense?
"Cut the crap," I close my book and get up out of my comfy position because God forbid I can't have a nice quiet morning to myself. "You saw me come in here earlier, didn't you?"
He shook his head and chuckled lightly, "I could never get anything past that big brain of yours."
The floorboards beneath me creak as I walk towards the brunette. "Are you sure about that? Or is just that your brain too incompetent to keep up with everyone else?"
His eyes narrow at my remark. "Shut it, Parker," he sneers.
"See we're still on a last-name basis, Teddy bear," I say under my breath.
His jaw tightened. "What did you call me?"
I like to call Adrian "teddy bear."
Makes him lose his temper. Always has and always will.
"What's the matter, softie?" I coo in his ear. "Don't like being called teddy bear? How about softie, instead? You like that, Hollander?"
He grabs my shoulders aggressively, jerking my body so I'm right in front of him. His cold, sapphire eyes stare at me with dead seriousness sending chills down my spine.
"How many bloody times-"
Pause.
"-have I told you not to call me that name?"
A smirk plays on my lips. "Which one? softie or teddy bear?"
His large left hand moves up to my neck, grasping it tightly.
I start to gasp for air as the airflow becomes weaker and weaker.
"You-" Gasp. "-wouldn't." I wheeze.
He pushes me up against the trunk of the oak tree. "But wouldn't I?" his low voice taunts.
Screw bravery. Fear has overcome my senses.
I'm being strangled to death by Adrian Hollander.
I feel myself being lifted off of the ground as he adds his right hand to my neck, completely killing off all air supply.
Pleading with my eyes, I look into his orbs and there's no show of any sort of emotion.
As if he doesn't care if I die.
But I know he does.
He's trying to scare me and it doesn't work.
A few moments later, I feel him release his grip from my neck.
My weak body crumbles to the ground and I lie there, breathing heavily taking in as much oxygen as possible.
"What have I always told you, Jaz?" He bends down and grabs my chin, lifting it up, my eyes- a relieved glimmer in them, meet his.
"One day, I will leave you breathless."
He places a soft peck on my forehead before standing back up again. "It was great running into you, Parker. Let's do this again soon, eh?"