Duncan’s POV
wewe know that painless sekunde after wewe stub your toe— that small moment before the feeling has had the chance to rise? That certain knowing that wewe can’t take it back, what’s done it done, and wewe just have to face the outcome when it occurs?
See, this is just like that. Except, maybe, oh— one hundred times worse. Certainly zaidi painful.
It’s not just the situation that’s killing me. The whole, ‘I was an idiot and I regret it only now that things are messed up even further— thanks to me,’ really sucks, no lie, but get this: if I hadn’t been so stupid, things would have been good. And I mean good. Not, ‘I can live with this crap’ good, but frickin’ fantastic. Courtney had broken up with him, she had come to her senses, come to make up (and, what’s worse, probably make out), and things would’ve been exactly how I had imagined. So, yeah. The regret is unbearable.
Not that I didn’t have a legitimate reason to be angry— of course I did. All I knew was that she was going out with what’s-his-face and hadn’t told me. I figure that was shitty enough a situation for me to ignore her, to get upset. I might even go so far as saying that it was an excuse for what I said— up to a point. But when she started to explain… and I still didn’t care… and then the truth was out. Along with all of what I’d said. And we both know that she took it to heart. Looking back, with all of what I’d said, you’d think we were even. Courtney lied, I insulted. You’d think that would be enough— but wewe really wouldn’t be looking close enough.
Because, if you’ll notice— upendo really does make wewe do stupid things.
Like, maybe, lie. au keep secrets. au even use some jerk as an excuse not to upendo someone. It could make wewe deny it all for the simple reason that, well, it’s hard to believe. It could make wewe confused… and liable to make mistakes.
That’s not my alibi, though. It’s hers. And it’s a damn good one.
Add up everything she did, add up why. What does it come out to? Innocence. She should’ve told me… but I guess I understand why. Really, it’s just like the Island.
Though I didn’t say what I did because I upendo her. I alisema it for no other reason than because I was angry. Sure, I might have had a reason to be angry— I did. But not after she came. After she told me that she wanted to talk to me, I Lost any reason. But just because I Lost the reason to be furious, doesn’t mean I Lost the capacity.
Did I mention that the guilt is killing me?
I raise a fist to the door and knock. dakika pass before it opens.
At first, I take it to be Courtney. But with a sekunde glance, I see that it’s not. It’s her sister.
She clicks her tongue. “I don’t know what wewe did, but here’s a tip— Courtney can hold a grudge. For a long. Time.”
I don’t see how this is any sort of advice. “Is she here?” I sigh.
“Where else would she be? It’s Saturday morning.” She says with an eye roll. Courtney’s sister, though slightly taller, has features strikingly similar to her. Though, the eyes aren’t the same. Courtney’s are more… expressive. They onyesha what she’s really thinking. The eyes are the window to the soul, right? I suppose it applies to some people zaidi than others.
Courtney’s sister steps back to let me through. “Be happy our parents are workaholics— they aren’t here.” She gestures to the staircase. “It’s the door at the end of the hall. Good luck.”
Nodding, I start to mount the stairs. I shuffle across the hall rug to the last door. Breathing in, I nudge it open.
Of all things that occur to me, it’s the fact that this room looks much different in daylight that does.
She’s sitting on the edge of her bed, adorned in cotton lounge pants and sleeping shirt. A Twizzler hangs from her mouth carelessly.
I’m about to speak, when my own voice cuts me off.
“Okay, look— I know wewe like me. He knows wewe like me. Everyone knows it. So here’s a tip: if wewe want to kiss me, I might let you.”
It’s the TV.
Courtney stares at it— at us. And though she doesn’t act like it, she knows I’m here.
My eyes flick to a something on the ground. It’s a DVD case for the series, the ones aliyopewa to us at the end of the show. The plastic wrapper lying inayofuata to it suggests that she hasn’t watched it until now.
“And to think, I actually thought wewe were nice!”
“Shh! Me? Nice? Heh, yeah right.”
Geoff’s stale-bread eating face fills the screen. “Why’d wewe think that?”
“Never mind. I was wrong. He’s just as gross and annoying as he wants wewe to believe. Enjoy your garbage.”
Courtney rips off a piece of the liquorice with her teeth, and for a moment, I swear she imagines it was my neck.
I clear my throat, but Courtney doesn’t seem to take notice. I run a hand through my hair and groan inwardly, hating to have to do this.
“Ech-heeem.”
“I heard wewe the first time.” She says slowly, and I wince.
Moving quickly, I stride over to her. Courtney’s eyes do not peel away from the screen. “Uh, look… about last night—”
“Hm?” She tilts her head to the side. “What about last night? Oh, did wewe want to apologize?” Courtney takes another bite of the candy. “Well, don’t bother. I’m really, really busy right now, Duncan. So wewe can—” Her eyes narrow. “Just leave.”
“Princess—”
“Duncan, what are wewe doing?”
“Enough with the nickname!” She hisses. “It’s Courtney! C-O-U-R-T-N-E-Y! It’s not that hard a word to say!”
Her hands curl into fists on her lap. Her eyes meet mine, and she scowling deeply.
“Courtney,” I try again. “I’m sorry, alright?”
“What did wewe expect? For wewe to come here and be forgiven?”
“Courtney—”
“I’m finished trying to please you. This is bullshit. I don’t want anything—”
“Will wewe stop quoting me?!” I yell. Courtney grits her teeth, and stops.
For a moment, all we do is stare at one another. The onyesha plays on in the background.
“I upendo Maser Chief shoka because he is very, very, very… very…”
Her eyes flick back to the screen.
“This is just one sentence with five pages of ‘very’s’ in between!”
I don’t, don’t want to do this again. Fighting didn’t work the first time, and it won’t work now. So I sit on the edge of the kitanda beside her, and wait for something to come to mind. When nothing does, I find myself watching the screen.
“…So stop being such a screw-up, and do what you’re told for once, okay?”
“You just bought yourself twenty zaidi push-ups!”
It’s like this collision of memories, nearly all forgotten. It’s weird, looking back— the same thoughts recurring, nearly the same as they had then. Most of which I miss, plenty of which I don’t. But either way, I want to be there. When things were easier. When they weren’t so screwed up as they are now.
And, finally—
“Thanks. Enjoy prison.”
“I will.”
That one— that memory I remember clearly. But even still, it’s the tilt of her head that I’m only recognising now, the way my eyes hadn’t closed straight away. It’s these things that remind that that was then, and this is now.
And now kind of blows.
I never realized how short of a kiss it had been. I guess all the times I had replayed it in my mind, I stretched the truth a bit. Really, it’d been a simple kiss. What I wouldn’t kill to be in that moment right now.
Her expression is difficult to read. But I’m fairly sure that she’s wondering what things would have been like if she hadn’t kissed me. The thought causes my throat to tighten.
“…Told wewe she wanted me.”
“Sorry… I can’t help it. I— woah!”
“Yes!”
“You guys voted for Harold… over me?!”
“I think wewe should go.”
My eyes widen. “No. I came here to fix this and I’m not going to leave until—”
“Don’t wewe get it?” She snaps. “This doesn’t need fixing! This needs ending. Do wewe understand me? We get so messed up and I’m sick of it. I just don’t want any zaidi drama, Duncan! It’s too screwed up to work out. This happens every time we—”
“Oh come on!” I cry desperately. “You’re not just going to give up, are you? We were so close!”
Courtney bolts up from her spot. “We were never close to anything! wewe were close, Duncan. Not me. I just can’t do this. wewe don’t even know how much wewe hurt me. wewe wouldn’t even listen to me!”
“Well, you’re not listening to me now!”
“You don’t deserve it!” She retorts quickly, before catching herself. “I can’t do this. I won’t do this. I’m not getting involved with wewe again. It got me eliminated the first time, and— I just— no!”
I grit my teeth. “Listen, Princess. I—”
“I am not your Princess!” Courtney growls. “You’re not doing any good. I’m still angry. You’re just… making it all worse. Please,” her voice drops to a desperate sigh. “Go.”
I songesha towards the door, admitting defeat. But not entirely. She just needs to cool off a bit more… and then… I really don’t know. But I’ll make it work. “This isn’t over.” I tell her. And though she glares, I know she realized this too. I back away, openly inaonyesha her my unwillingness, waiting for her to stop me, to say something. But she doesn’t.
Turning, I stride down the hallway. I’ll figure something out. She’ll learn how I feel. She’ll understand. We’ll be together. I’m not giving up. I don’t care what I have to do to get her back, I’ll do it. She loves me. A feeling like that doesn’t go away overnight. I’ll get it out of her. I’ll—
“Duncan.”
My moyo jumps. I whip around, and see Courtney walking towards me. She’s forgiven me. She knows that we have to be together. She—
—extends her arm. Courtney’s holding something. She hands it to me, and I glance down.
The skull. She kept it.
“You can have it back. I don’t want it anymore.” She says, voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes are as cold as ice, frigid kwa hurt. They cut a hole in my heart.
“I’ve moved on.”
Becky’s POV
It’s my job.
wewe can’t understand it unless you’ve known each other as long as we have. It’s what best Marafiki do— we fix everything. Like the way mothers fix their children’s problems, the way they make it all right, best Marafiki fix each other’s.
I don’t know what causes the need. I have no clue. But I know that it feels as though my world will fall apart if Courtney’s does. It’s like she’s another half of me— and if she’s at her worst, then so am I. And though she wouldn’t admit it, I’ve had to put a band-aid on her scrapes zaidi than once— figuratively speaking. And sometimes, I’ve had to make her realize the truth. Had to push the denial out of her head. It takes effort —she’s stubborn— but I know that I’ve done the right thing in the end. Even though it seems to be zaidi trouble than it’s worth.
So yeah, I was eager to hear what had happened.
“Hey!”
I stride up to Courtney’s locker, giddy with what I know. She must’ve found Duncan over the weekend. And finally, thankfully, she’ll be happy.
“You should’ve called!” I tell her with a grin. “So… how’d it go?”
But she isn’t smiling. My own smile flickers.
“Court…?”
I turn her kwa the shoulder and read her eyes. wewe can tell what a person is feeling kwa the look in her eyes. It just takes a little know-how and some serious attention to detail.
Her eyes are dim. There’s a bit of leftover anger flickering, but mostly, there’s hidden sadness. It takes a mgawanyiko, baidisha sekunde to process the idea.
“What happened?” I demand sharply. Courtney blinks and bites the inside of her cheek.
“He was there.” She tells me. “At the party. With a girl. He said… he was… horrible. It was just… horrible.”
I take her into my arms and sigh. Tara bounds from around the corner.
“I slept in!” She announces, tossing strands of blonde hair over her shoulder. “Woke up with only fifteen dakika until school. I didn’t have any time to plug in my flat iron— hey. What’s going on?” Her eyes jump from Courtney to me with interest.
“Duncan.” I explain simply. Tara’s eyes blink, and fill with sympathy.
“Guys totally suck.” She announces and tosses her arms around Courtney as well. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”
Courtney breaks away from the huddle and shakes her head. “No, it’s not like that. I’m just… over him. Totally finished with him. wewe know what they say— what doesn’t kill wewe makes wewe stronger. And anyway,” she grabs a binder from her locker. “Why should I even be with such a Neanderthal, anyway? I swear, I don’t know what I was even thinking.”
Tara and I exchange a glance. “Courtney… I don’t really think I’m getting this. You’re over him just like that? I understand not being upset over Josh, but…” I kuvuka, msalaba my arms slowly. “You’ve got to be feeling the pain now.”
“Nope.” Courtney states simply, though this obviously is not at all simple. “Not really. I’m over it.”
“Courtney…” I start, but she slams the locker door, cutting me off.
“I’m fine.” She says with what I figure is supposed to be a reassuring smile, though I don’t buy it. Courtney waves with a quick flick of her wrist and turns.
Pursing her lips, Tara tries to accept the excuse. “Well, I guess if you’re sure you’re fine. Then I—”
“—don’t want to speak to you!” Courtney growls. My eyes flick to the figure in front, and I realize it’s Duncan.
She pushes her way past him and dodges down the halls, ignoring the glances form students passing by.
I see Duncan ball his hand into a fist. “Shit,” he growls under his breath. Tara leans close to whisper into my ear.
“If wewe ask me, she didn’t look at all fine.” She tells me, but I’m not really listening. My eyes are locked on Duncan.
On one hand, I’d sincerely like to give him a shiner for what he did to Courtney. But on the other, I’m realizing something.
He’s mad for her.
Entirely love-struck. It’s the way he looks at her, like she’s the only one in the hall. Courtney’s the same way, she just doesn’t like it. He might’ve made some mistakes, yeah, but that doesn’t mean that Courtney should be miserable for the rest of her life. She wants him, like it au not, and it’s going to happen.
Smirking, I lead Tara over to where Duncan stands. My eyes meet his, and I tilt my head to the side. “You really are pathetic, aren’t you?”
He glances away, and clenches his jaw. “What? Are wewe going to lecture me? Because right now, I’ve got to tell you— I don’t need it.”
“No,” I say slowly. “We’re going to help.”
“We are?” Tara asks dully.
I give an eye roll. “Yeah, we are.” I direct my attention back to Duncan. “Back in ninth grade, we had a dance for Valentine’s day. Gregory Burrows asked Courtney.”
“No,” Tara objects. “Thomas asked Courtney.”
I scowl. “No, it was Greg.”
“No,” She parrots. “It was Thomas McKinney. I’m sure of it.”
“Well then who did Gregory go with?”
Tara’s lips purse. “Me. I remember because he kept trying to put his hands on my ass.”
“Oh, right.” My lip curls. “He was always such a perv. Why did wewe go with him, anyway?”
Her eyes narrow. “Because I was desperate. Kyle went with Hailey, and Gregory is his best friend. I figured I’d get to talk to Kyle somehow. I really wish I hadn’t, though. He barely even noticed m—”
“How is this supposed to help me?” Duncan cuts in with a glare. I give a sigh and continue promptly.
“Well, Gregory bailed last dakika because Rebecca Thomson asked him to go—”
“Whore.” Tara mutters under her breath with a snarl.
“—and he alisema yes. Courtney was totally pissed. She still went, though, and ended up spilling ngumi, punch all over his lap.”
For a moment, a smile flickers on Duncan’s lips. It fades, but I know he was thinking what we all were— that’s so like her. Like I said, he’s really, really crazy for her. I take a moment to grin.
“Anyway,” I say, recollecting my thoughts. “Rebecca ignored Greg, because of the whole incident, and he eventually tried to apologize. He went to Courtney’s house after school the inayofuata week and brought her flowers.”
Duncan crosses his arms, and frowns slightly. “So you’re telling me,” he says slowly. “That I should just bring her flowers? That’s it?” He asks this as though it’s a hope. It isn’t.
Tara snorts, and can’t help but answer for me. “She ran the flowers over with a lawnmower.”
His face seems to fall, like the last possible opportunity has been ripped from his grasp. Duncan covers it with another glare. “Thanks. That’ll be useful to know.”
“Don’t wewe get it?” I snap. “Courtney doesn’t buy the whole ‘I-sorry-please-forgive-me’ crap. She’s smarter than that— and way too stubborn.”
“So what should I do, then?” Duncan growls. And I smile, because I know that my plan will work. They always do.
So I step up to Duncan, the feel of scheming pulsing fast in my veins. Now this, this is what I’m good at. Tara’s the gossip, Courtney’s the leader, but this, this is what I do.
“I have an idea.”
Courtney’s POV
I have a damn good reason to be angry.
Really, Duncan has no one to blame but himself. And frankly, I’d like very much to end things with him. Wait— I did. The skull, that pointless skull, has been returned.
I push the churning, queasy feeling down at that.
Weird, most people are sad after breakups. But I’m not. Though it really wasn’t a breakup, was it? We never went out, not at all. We flirted, sure— no, he flirted, he flirted. It wasn’t me at all, really. Yeah, I liked him. A bit. Truly, ‘love’ is an exaggeration. I don’t know what I was thinking.
Not that it matters how I felt, because it’s over. Done. Finished. The end of some twisted nightmare. A nightmare, because it was horrible. I mean, really. Duncan and me? Please! Don’t make me laugh! I don’t know why it ever even occurred to me. It’s obvious now that things couldn’t possibly work out between us. At least, not after Friday night…
But like I said, I’m over it.
Closure is nice. Really, really nice.
If only I knew what it felt like.
I blow a strand of hair out of my eyes and tighten my grip on my bag. The perfumed scent of spring is strong today. I really can’t say I miss winter.
“Courtney.”
I stop.
“For the millionth time, I don’t want to talk to you.”
No closure, like I said. How pathetic.
Duncan jogs up beside me on the path, and I glance away. His hands are in his pockets.
“All I want to say is— you’re right.”
“I don’t want to— wait, what did wewe say?” Stopping abruptly, I glance up at Duncan, confusion clouding my mind. I’m right? Since when am I right? Duncan never thinks I’m right.
He shrugs a shoulder. “I was thinking about it, and… wewe were right. It’s not a good idea for us to try to tarehe again.”
“We never dated,” I tell him swiftly. It feels like I’m telling myself. “We never did.”
Duncan looks like he’s about to protest, and I feel myself tense up. It’s as if I want this. But he pauses, relaxes, and nods his head in a sort of agreement. “Yeah, I guess not. So… we’re cool, then?” He smiles slightly, and it feels as though his eyes see right through me. It feels as though he can read me, like he’s seeing everything inside. I try not to squirm, but I’m afraid he can tell that I’m not as okay as I seem.
So I try to return the smile —there’s no way he’s getting over this sooner than I am— and coo like this is exactly what I want to hear. “Of course.” I stress unblinkingly. “I’m just glad we have that all worked out now.”
And though I don’t want to, I find myself hoping, praying that a look of remorse will overcome him. But he doesn’t look disappointed, if anything, his eyes only seem to brighten.
“Right, great. Anyway— I’ve got to go.” He nods his head to his right. “So I’ll see you.”
“Yeah,” I attempt to strain the smile even more, desperate to see his eyes dim. But they don’t. I turn my shoulder away from him and begin walking again. “I’ll see you, then.”
I want to see him frown, scowl, become angry. Something. Anything to onyesha that he’s taken this as hard as I have. But nothing happens.
“Bye, Duncan.”
“Bye, Pr—”
My moyo jumps for a moment, but he catches himself.
“Bye, Courtney.”
My moyo falls through to my feet.
And though it never had before, the sound of my name from his lips cuts like a knife.
wewe know that painless sekunde after wewe stub your toe— that small moment before the feeling has had the chance to rise? That certain knowing that wewe can’t take it back, what’s done it done, and wewe just have to face the outcome when it occurs?
See, this is just like that. Except, maybe, oh— one hundred times worse. Certainly zaidi painful.
It’s not just the situation that’s killing me. The whole, ‘I was an idiot and I regret it only now that things are messed up even further— thanks to me,’ really sucks, no lie, but get this: if I hadn’t been so stupid, things would have been good. And I mean good. Not, ‘I can live with this crap’ good, but frickin’ fantastic. Courtney had broken up with him, she had come to her senses, come to make up (and, what’s worse, probably make out), and things would’ve been exactly how I had imagined. So, yeah. The regret is unbearable.
Not that I didn’t have a legitimate reason to be angry— of course I did. All I knew was that she was going out with what’s-his-face and hadn’t told me. I figure that was shitty enough a situation for me to ignore her, to get upset. I might even go so far as saying that it was an excuse for what I said— up to a point. But when she started to explain… and I still didn’t care… and then the truth was out. Along with all of what I’d said. And we both know that she took it to heart. Looking back, with all of what I’d said, you’d think we were even. Courtney lied, I insulted. You’d think that would be enough— but wewe really wouldn’t be looking close enough.
Because, if you’ll notice— upendo really does make wewe do stupid things.
Like, maybe, lie. au keep secrets. au even use some jerk as an excuse not to upendo someone. It could make wewe deny it all for the simple reason that, well, it’s hard to believe. It could make wewe confused… and liable to make mistakes.
That’s not my alibi, though. It’s hers. And it’s a damn good one.
Add up everything she did, add up why. What does it come out to? Innocence. She should’ve told me… but I guess I understand why. Really, it’s just like the Island.
Though I didn’t say what I did because I upendo her. I alisema it for no other reason than because I was angry. Sure, I might have had a reason to be angry— I did. But not after she came. After she told me that she wanted to talk to me, I Lost any reason. But just because I Lost the reason to be furious, doesn’t mean I Lost the capacity.
Did I mention that the guilt is killing me?
I raise a fist to the door and knock. dakika pass before it opens.
At first, I take it to be Courtney. But with a sekunde glance, I see that it’s not. It’s her sister.
She clicks her tongue. “I don’t know what wewe did, but here’s a tip— Courtney can hold a grudge. For a long. Time.”
I don’t see how this is any sort of advice. “Is she here?” I sigh.
“Where else would she be? It’s Saturday morning.” She says with an eye roll. Courtney’s sister, though slightly taller, has features strikingly similar to her. Though, the eyes aren’t the same. Courtney’s are more… expressive. They onyesha what she’s really thinking. The eyes are the window to the soul, right? I suppose it applies to some people zaidi than others.
Courtney’s sister steps back to let me through. “Be happy our parents are workaholics— they aren’t here.” She gestures to the staircase. “It’s the door at the end of the hall. Good luck.”
Nodding, I start to mount the stairs. I shuffle across the hall rug to the last door. Breathing in, I nudge it open.
Of all things that occur to me, it’s the fact that this room looks much different in daylight that does.
She’s sitting on the edge of her bed, adorned in cotton lounge pants and sleeping shirt. A Twizzler hangs from her mouth carelessly.
I’m about to speak, when my own voice cuts me off.
“Okay, look— I know wewe like me. He knows wewe like me. Everyone knows it. So here’s a tip: if wewe want to kiss me, I might let you.”
It’s the TV.
Courtney stares at it— at us. And though she doesn’t act like it, she knows I’m here.
My eyes flick to a something on the ground. It’s a DVD case for the series, the ones aliyopewa to us at the end of the show. The plastic wrapper lying inayofuata to it suggests that she hasn’t watched it until now.
“And to think, I actually thought wewe were nice!”
“Shh! Me? Nice? Heh, yeah right.”
Geoff’s stale-bread eating face fills the screen. “Why’d wewe think that?”
“Never mind. I was wrong. He’s just as gross and annoying as he wants wewe to believe. Enjoy your garbage.”
Courtney rips off a piece of the liquorice with her teeth, and for a moment, I swear she imagines it was my neck.
I clear my throat, but Courtney doesn’t seem to take notice. I run a hand through my hair and groan inwardly, hating to have to do this.
“Ech-heeem.”
“I heard wewe the first time.” She says slowly, and I wince.
Moving quickly, I stride over to her. Courtney’s eyes do not peel away from the screen. “Uh, look… about last night—”
“Hm?” She tilts her head to the side. “What about last night? Oh, did wewe want to apologize?” Courtney takes another bite of the candy. “Well, don’t bother. I’m really, really busy right now, Duncan. So wewe can—” Her eyes narrow. “Just leave.”
“Princess—”
“Duncan, what are wewe doing?”
“Enough with the nickname!” She hisses. “It’s Courtney! C-O-U-R-T-N-E-Y! It’s not that hard a word to say!”
Her hands curl into fists on her lap. Her eyes meet mine, and she scowling deeply.
“Courtney,” I try again. “I’m sorry, alright?”
“What did wewe expect? For wewe to come here and be forgiven?”
“Courtney—”
“I’m finished trying to please you. This is bullshit. I don’t want anything—”
“Will wewe stop quoting me?!” I yell. Courtney grits her teeth, and stops.
For a moment, all we do is stare at one another. The onyesha plays on in the background.
“I upendo Maser Chief shoka because he is very, very, very… very…”
Her eyes flick back to the screen.
“This is just one sentence with five pages of ‘very’s’ in between!”
I don’t, don’t want to do this again. Fighting didn’t work the first time, and it won’t work now. So I sit on the edge of the kitanda beside her, and wait for something to come to mind. When nothing does, I find myself watching the screen.
“…So stop being such a screw-up, and do what you’re told for once, okay?”
“You just bought yourself twenty zaidi push-ups!”
It’s like this collision of memories, nearly all forgotten. It’s weird, looking back— the same thoughts recurring, nearly the same as they had then. Most of which I miss, plenty of which I don’t. But either way, I want to be there. When things were easier. When they weren’t so screwed up as they are now.
And, finally—
“Thanks. Enjoy prison.”
“I will.”
That one— that memory I remember clearly. But even still, it’s the tilt of her head that I’m only recognising now, the way my eyes hadn’t closed straight away. It’s these things that remind that that was then, and this is now.
And now kind of blows.
I never realized how short of a kiss it had been. I guess all the times I had replayed it in my mind, I stretched the truth a bit. Really, it’d been a simple kiss. What I wouldn’t kill to be in that moment right now.
Her expression is difficult to read. But I’m fairly sure that she’s wondering what things would have been like if she hadn’t kissed me. The thought causes my throat to tighten.
“…Told wewe she wanted me.”
“Sorry… I can’t help it. I— woah!”
“Yes!”
“You guys voted for Harold… over me?!”
“I think wewe should go.”
My eyes widen. “No. I came here to fix this and I’m not going to leave until—”
“Don’t wewe get it?” She snaps. “This doesn’t need fixing! This needs ending. Do wewe understand me? We get so messed up and I’m sick of it. I just don’t want any zaidi drama, Duncan! It’s too screwed up to work out. This happens every time we—”
“Oh come on!” I cry desperately. “You’re not just going to give up, are you? We were so close!”
Courtney bolts up from her spot. “We were never close to anything! wewe were close, Duncan. Not me. I just can’t do this. wewe don’t even know how much wewe hurt me. wewe wouldn’t even listen to me!”
“Well, you’re not listening to me now!”
“You don’t deserve it!” She retorts quickly, before catching herself. “I can’t do this. I won’t do this. I’m not getting involved with wewe again. It got me eliminated the first time, and— I just— no!”
I grit my teeth. “Listen, Princess. I—”
“I am not your Princess!” Courtney growls. “You’re not doing any good. I’m still angry. You’re just… making it all worse. Please,” her voice drops to a desperate sigh. “Go.”
I songesha towards the door, admitting defeat. But not entirely. She just needs to cool off a bit more… and then… I really don’t know. But I’ll make it work. “This isn’t over.” I tell her. And though she glares, I know she realized this too. I back away, openly inaonyesha her my unwillingness, waiting for her to stop me, to say something. But she doesn’t.
Turning, I stride down the hallway. I’ll figure something out. She’ll learn how I feel. She’ll understand. We’ll be together. I’m not giving up. I don’t care what I have to do to get her back, I’ll do it. She loves me. A feeling like that doesn’t go away overnight. I’ll get it out of her. I’ll—
“Duncan.”
My moyo jumps. I whip around, and see Courtney walking towards me. She’s forgiven me. She knows that we have to be together. She—
—extends her arm. Courtney’s holding something. She hands it to me, and I glance down.
The skull. She kept it.
“You can have it back. I don’t want it anymore.” She says, voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes are as cold as ice, frigid kwa hurt. They cut a hole in my heart.
“I’ve moved on.”
Becky’s POV
It’s my job.
wewe can’t understand it unless you’ve known each other as long as we have. It’s what best Marafiki do— we fix everything. Like the way mothers fix their children’s problems, the way they make it all right, best Marafiki fix each other’s.
I don’t know what causes the need. I have no clue. But I know that it feels as though my world will fall apart if Courtney’s does. It’s like she’s another half of me— and if she’s at her worst, then so am I. And though she wouldn’t admit it, I’ve had to put a band-aid on her scrapes zaidi than once— figuratively speaking. And sometimes, I’ve had to make her realize the truth. Had to push the denial out of her head. It takes effort —she’s stubborn— but I know that I’ve done the right thing in the end. Even though it seems to be zaidi trouble than it’s worth.
So yeah, I was eager to hear what had happened.
“Hey!”
I stride up to Courtney’s locker, giddy with what I know. She must’ve found Duncan over the weekend. And finally, thankfully, she’ll be happy.
“You should’ve called!” I tell her with a grin. “So… how’d it go?”
But she isn’t smiling. My own smile flickers.
“Court…?”
I turn her kwa the shoulder and read her eyes. wewe can tell what a person is feeling kwa the look in her eyes. It just takes a little know-how and some serious attention to detail.
Her eyes are dim. There’s a bit of leftover anger flickering, but mostly, there’s hidden sadness. It takes a mgawanyiko, baidisha sekunde to process the idea.
“What happened?” I demand sharply. Courtney blinks and bites the inside of her cheek.
“He was there.” She tells me. “At the party. With a girl. He said… he was… horrible. It was just… horrible.”
I take her into my arms and sigh. Tara bounds from around the corner.
“I slept in!” She announces, tossing strands of blonde hair over her shoulder. “Woke up with only fifteen dakika until school. I didn’t have any time to plug in my flat iron— hey. What’s going on?” Her eyes jump from Courtney to me with interest.
“Duncan.” I explain simply. Tara’s eyes blink, and fill with sympathy.
“Guys totally suck.” She announces and tosses her arms around Courtney as well. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”
Courtney breaks away from the huddle and shakes her head. “No, it’s not like that. I’m just… over him. Totally finished with him. wewe know what they say— what doesn’t kill wewe makes wewe stronger. And anyway,” she grabs a binder from her locker. “Why should I even be with such a Neanderthal, anyway? I swear, I don’t know what I was even thinking.”
Tara and I exchange a glance. “Courtney… I don’t really think I’m getting this. You’re over him just like that? I understand not being upset over Josh, but…” I kuvuka, msalaba my arms slowly. “You’ve got to be feeling the pain now.”
“Nope.” Courtney states simply, though this obviously is not at all simple. “Not really. I’m over it.”
“Courtney…” I start, but she slams the locker door, cutting me off.
“I’m fine.” She says with what I figure is supposed to be a reassuring smile, though I don’t buy it. Courtney waves with a quick flick of her wrist and turns.
Pursing her lips, Tara tries to accept the excuse. “Well, I guess if you’re sure you’re fine. Then I—”
“—don’t want to speak to you!” Courtney growls. My eyes flick to the figure in front, and I realize it’s Duncan.
She pushes her way past him and dodges down the halls, ignoring the glances form students passing by.
I see Duncan ball his hand into a fist. “Shit,” he growls under his breath. Tara leans close to whisper into my ear.
“If wewe ask me, she didn’t look at all fine.” She tells me, but I’m not really listening. My eyes are locked on Duncan.
On one hand, I’d sincerely like to give him a shiner for what he did to Courtney. But on the other, I’m realizing something.
He’s mad for her.
Entirely love-struck. It’s the way he looks at her, like she’s the only one in the hall. Courtney’s the same way, she just doesn’t like it. He might’ve made some mistakes, yeah, but that doesn’t mean that Courtney should be miserable for the rest of her life. She wants him, like it au not, and it’s going to happen.
Smirking, I lead Tara over to where Duncan stands. My eyes meet his, and I tilt my head to the side. “You really are pathetic, aren’t you?”
He glances away, and clenches his jaw. “What? Are wewe going to lecture me? Because right now, I’ve got to tell you— I don’t need it.”
“No,” I say slowly. “We’re going to help.”
“We are?” Tara asks dully.
I give an eye roll. “Yeah, we are.” I direct my attention back to Duncan. “Back in ninth grade, we had a dance for Valentine’s day. Gregory Burrows asked Courtney.”
“No,” Tara objects. “Thomas asked Courtney.”
I scowl. “No, it was Greg.”
“No,” She parrots. “It was Thomas McKinney. I’m sure of it.”
“Well then who did Gregory go with?”
Tara’s lips purse. “Me. I remember because he kept trying to put his hands on my ass.”
“Oh, right.” My lip curls. “He was always such a perv. Why did wewe go with him, anyway?”
Her eyes narrow. “Because I was desperate. Kyle went with Hailey, and Gregory is his best friend. I figured I’d get to talk to Kyle somehow. I really wish I hadn’t, though. He barely even noticed m—”
“How is this supposed to help me?” Duncan cuts in with a glare. I give a sigh and continue promptly.
“Well, Gregory bailed last dakika because Rebecca Thomson asked him to go—”
“Whore.” Tara mutters under her breath with a snarl.
“—and he alisema yes. Courtney was totally pissed. She still went, though, and ended up spilling ngumi, punch all over his lap.”
For a moment, a smile flickers on Duncan’s lips. It fades, but I know he was thinking what we all were— that’s so like her. Like I said, he’s really, really crazy for her. I take a moment to grin.
“Anyway,” I say, recollecting my thoughts. “Rebecca ignored Greg, because of the whole incident, and he eventually tried to apologize. He went to Courtney’s house after school the inayofuata week and brought her flowers.”
Duncan crosses his arms, and frowns slightly. “So you’re telling me,” he says slowly. “That I should just bring her flowers? That’s it?” He asks this as though it’s a hope. It isn’t.
Tara snorts, and can’t help but answer for me. “She ran the flowers over with a lawnmower.”
His face seems to fall, like the last possible opportunity has been ripped from his grasp. Duncan covers it with another glare. “Thanks. That’ll be useful to know.”
“Don’t wewe get it?” I snap. “Courtney doesn’t buy the whole ‘I-sorry-please-forgive-me’ crap. She’s smarter than that— and way too stubborn.”
“So what should I do, then?” Duncan growls. And I smile, because I know that my plan will work. They always do.
So I step up to Duncan, the feel of scheming pulsing fast in my veins. Now this, this is what I’m good at. Tara’s the gossip, Courtney’s the leader, but this, this is what I do.
“I have an idea.”
Courtney’s POV
I have a damn good reason to be angry.
Really, Duncan has no one to blame but himself. And frankly, I’d like very much to end things with him. Wait— I did. The skull, that pointless skull, has been returned.
I push the churning, queasy feeling down at that.
Weird, most people are sad after breakups. But I’m not. Though it really wasn’t a breakup, was it? We never went out, not at all. We flirted, sure— no, he flirted, he flirted. It wasn’t me at all, really. Yeah, I liked him. A bit. Truly, ‘love’ is an exaggeration. I don’t know what I was thinking.
Not that it matters how I felt, because it’s over. Done. Finished. The end of some twisted nightmare. A nightmare, because it was horrible. I mean, really. Duncan and me? Please! Don’t make me laugh! I don’t know why it ever even occurred to me. It’s obvious now that things couldn’t possibly work out between us. At least, not after Friday night…
But like I said, I’m over it.
Closure is nice. Really, really nice.
If only I knew what it felt like.
I blow a strand of hair out of my eyes and tighten my grip on my bag. The perfumed scent of spring is strong today. I really can’t say I miss winter.
“Courtney.”
I stop.
“For the millionth time, I don’t want to talk to you.”
No closure, like I said. How pathetic.
Duncan jogs up beside me on the path, and I glance away. His hands are in his pockets.
“All I want to say is— you’re right.”
“I don’t want to— wait, what did wewe say?” Stopping abruptly, I glance up at Duncan, confusion clouding my mind. I’m right? Since when am I right? Duncan never thinks I’m right.
He shrugs a shoulder. “I was thinking about it, and… wewe were right. It’s not a good idea for us to try to tarehe again.”
“We never dated,” I tell him swiftly. It feels like I’m telling myself. “We never did.”
Duncan looks like he’s about to protest, and I feel myself tense up. It’s as if I want this. But he pauses, relaxes, and nods his head in a sort of agreement. “Yeah, I guess not. So… we’re cool, then?” He smiles slightly, and it feels as though his eyes see right through me. It feels as though he can read me, like he’s seeing everything inside. I try not to squirm, but I’m afraid he can tell that I’m not as okay as I seem.
So I try to return the smile —there’s no way he’s getting over this sooner than I am— and coo like this is exactly what I want to hear. “Of course.” I stress unblinkingly. “I’m just glad we have that all worked out now.”
And though I don’t want to, I find myself hoping, praying that a look of remorse will overcome him. But he doesn’t look disappointed, if anything, his eyes only seem to brighten.
“Right, great. Anyway— I’ve got to go.” He nods his head to his right. “So I’ll see you.”
“Yeah,” I attempt to strain the smile even more, desperate to see his eyes dim. But they don’t. I turn my shoulder away from him and begin walking again. “I’ll see you, then.”
I want to see him frown, scowl, become angry. Something. Anything to onyesha that he’s taken this as hard as I have. But nothing happens.
“Bye, Duncan.”
“Bye, Pr—”
My moyo jumps for a moment, but he catches himself.
“Bye, Courtney.”
My moyo falls through to my feet.
And though it never had before, the sound of my name from his lips cuts like a knife.
Sun Rise in New York.
