I dreaded returning home.
Dragging my feet uphill after hours of walking through stores, I was almost regretting declining Tasha's offer to sleep over. She was determined to better my mood that entire afternoon and I was certain she'd keep trying all night if I followed her home. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do to help me. What I needed was some space. Time alone. I needed somewhere to hide and cry, even if privacy wasn't always guaranteed in my house.
So I tried all day to hold it in. Even on the walk home, under the guide of the moon's light, I kept telling myself to hold it in until I got home. Just until I was in my bedroom.
Of course, with my luck, that didn't go as planned either.
Parked on the curb of the sidewalk that led up to my house, I halted across the street at the sight of her. She sat against her bike, waiting for something to happen. I watched her, frozen, for what felt like minutes; afraid she'd notice me if I took a step further or if I made any attempt to run the other way, despite having nowhere else to go. She must have felt my eyes on her after some time, because she instinctively turned my way before she jolted upright.
"Bonnie…" I heard faintly from a distance, but even hearing it at low volume was powerful enough to make my heart twinge. I took a breath and told myself to hold it in a little longer; just until I made it home.
Without responding, I walked forward.
"I wasn't sure where you lived exactly…" she explained as I neared, "I thought if I parked out here, I might see you coming out somewhere. I didn't think you'd be coming in this late though. I was worried you might have already fallen asleep—"
She stopped talking after I walked past her, ignoring her entirely as I headed home.
"Bonnie, please." She followed me. "I don't want to leave things like this with you."
"Don't you have a show to get to?" I said dryly, refusing to look at her.
She snatched my wrist, "I don't care about the show—"
"Please," I pulled out of her grip, stopping in my tracks. "Don't touch me."
There was a pause. I stared at the ground, too afraid to face her. But I could feel her eyes on me.
"I'm sorry," she said after a short moment passed. "I was careless, okay? I should have taken your feelings more seriously that night, but I don't want you to think I was toying with you, or that I didn't care about you—"
"I told you, it's fine." My eyes were burning again. It was unbearably painful trying to hold back the tears. I had to stop breathing again, just to buy myself a bit more time. "I'm really tired, okay? You should just go. I'm sure you've got a lot of people waiting for you tonight."
"Forget about them!" She snatched my wrist, yanking me closer. "I'm trying to settle this with you! Don't you care?"
"It's already been settled!" I snapped, lowering my face to hide my eyes behind my hair.
"Then why won't you look at me!" Her grip tightened, trembling slightly. I couldn't respond. "Why are you taking this so personally? It's not like I didn't like you, Bonnie! I just, I can't—"
"Oh, spare me." I tried to break free, "The last thing I need to hear right now is some stupid excuse about why you're rejecting me! Haven't you've humiliated me enough?"
"But I'm not rejecting you!" She pulled me closely and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look into her eyes. "I like you, Bonnie. I really do…" She released my chin to cup my face, wiping my tears with her thumb. "I just don't do… monogamy. If I'd known you were going to take that night as a commemoration of us being exclusive, I never would have let it go that far."
I huffed out a chuckle, pushing her off. "And there's the rejection."
She stumbled a bit before catching her balance. "It's not like that Bon. I do like you. I like spending time with you, and I really liked that night on the hill. I wouldn't mind meeting up like that from time to time either, but—"
"But I do mind," my voice cracked, despite my efforts to keep it steady. "I really liked you. I trusted you."
"You can still trust me," she stepped forward, but I was quick to step further away.
"I don't think I can," I held myself, trying to pull myself together. "It's best if we just end things here."
"But it doesn't have to end."
"Apparently, it never even started."
"Bonnie—"
"You don't fight fair, Erin!" I snapped, tears spewing out of my eyes. "you're here to tell me I'm wrong for assuming things on my own, then okay! I already know that! I know I have no right to be angry with you! I can't blame you for what I'm feeling right now! And I sure as hell can't blame you for closing your heart off to the rest of the world! In fact, I think it's smart of you…" My voice dropped quietly, "'cause at least that way, you'll never have to experience exactly what I'm feeling right now."
Erin's eyes began to glisten red. To my surprise, tears glossed her eyes. "Bonnie, I wasn't trying to hurt you."
I clenched my fists, trying to contain the urge to say something hurtful. It wouldn't benefit either of us, and the last thing I wanted was to hurt her, simply for hurting me. She wouldn't understand the reason behind it anyway. It was clear to me in that moment, just how selfish she actually was – and there was no sense in trying to reason with somebody like that.
"Go home, Erin."
I didn't say anything else. She didn't try to stop me from leaving either. I went the rest of the way on my own, crying silently.
I had no intention of speaking to Erin Hellster after that night.
A month passed, she made no effort to contact me again.