YOU

You asked me today why I seemed so out of it. 

You seemed so concerned about me. You didn’t know what I did to you. You didn’t know what I was about to do to you. 

“I’m just tired,” I lied. I rubbed my eyes for extra effect. 

I looked away from you before you could see the shame in my eyes. 

You believed me. Like an innocent child you took my word and you were blind to see my lies. 

I remembered looking up at the sky. It was gloomy, as cloudy and confused as I felt. 

“How’s your father?” I had asked. I was desperate to change the subject. But I hadn’t thought clearly, I didn’t know what emotions would resurface once you opened your mouth. 

“He’s still in the hospital,” Your tone was flat, almost stripped from any emotion but I could hear the sadness under the suffocating layer of dullness. 

“He’s still in a coma.” I had sucked in a breath. I doubt you noticed though. I could remember the hilt of the blade in my palm. I felt sick to my stomach. 

I had pulled you close. You buried your face in my shoulder and I could feel the tears beginning to wet my cardigan. 

You gave me this cardigan for Christmas along with the matching pendant. It must have been hundreds of dollars. “As a symbol of our friendship,” You said. I handed you a bouquet of flowers. I wasn’t rich like you, not at the time at least. My father wasn’t the King of the Land like yours was.

You clung to me. You again reminded me of a small child. You seemed so needy. 

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered to you. I gently patted your long amber hair. 

“Sorry for what?” You said. You pulled away from me and wiped your red eyes with the sleeve of your sweater. 

I longed to tell you I was paid to get your father out of the way. But I didn’t. You wouldn’t understand anyway. You were raised as a princess, anything you wanted you got. You didn’t experience the poverty I had to. You had a meal promised three times a day for your whole life. 

You didn’t understand how unfair the world was. You didn’t understand the rebellion. I had asked you about it several times. “My father’s handling it,” You assured me. But I knew he wasn’t. 

He was too busy building his seventh summer house. 

“I’m sorry, I forgot to bring tissues.” I whispered to her. 

You laughed a little, the dimples in your cheeks appeared and even I smiled. 

“You’re my best friend. Do you know that?” I asked you. 

You smirked, your eyes glinting mischievously. 

“Of course, no one has better dance moves!” 

You broke out in a hip sway. Your hands fluttered all around. 

I burst out laughing. 

“Sadie and Lyra,” I smiled. 

“Syra!”

I crinkle up my nose. “Syra?” 

You rolled your eyes, faking annoyance. “Me and you smashed together.” You took both of your hands and slapped them together with a loud clap. 

“BEHOLD SYRA!” You shouted. 

I’m pretty sure the whole Kingdom could hear you. But you didn’t care. 

In fact, that’s one of the things I admire about you the most-besides your dance moves- you don’t waste your time caring about what other people think. Something I think is one of the hardest things to achieve. 

I looked at you. Your carmel brown eyes glinting in the light, you have green flecks near your irises. You’re staring up at the sky now, watching the clouds morph and change into new shapes. If only it was that easy to let go of my past. 

You seem unfazed, smiling to yourself when the clouds shape  an animal. 

“Are you hungry?” I ask you. 

You look back at me looking young and practically glowing. In all the years we’ve been friends, I’ve never seen you so happy. You look as if you’ve won the lottery. 

“Kind of,” You say. I nod. “Want to grab something on the way to my house?” 

You nod and pull your wallet out of a painted blossom purse. I clutch the crisp paper rolled up inside my hand. I probably have twenty bucks in here. If I spend it all that’s four hours of cleaning the muck out of the gutters. You probably don’t think that’s a job, but it is. I have to dress up in a stupid outfit that makes me look like a factory worker. 

You stop by a coffee shop. I follow you inside. The bell jingles as a wave of cool air hits me. It smells slightly of espresso and cinnamon. I love this smell. This is where we first met. 

I stand in line beside you and survey the food choices. There’s a blueberry scone, a chocolate muffin wrapped in parchment paper, and several cookies. 

I watch you walk to the front of the line, as if you’ve done it hundreds of times-which you have. “Lyra! Over here,” You say, motioning for me to follow you. 

I walk up slowly towards you. I can hear the murmurs that follow me as I reach you. 

“Who’s she?”

“She’s not the princess.”

Of course I’m not. I don’t know if you heard them, you probably didn’t. If you did, you ignored them. 

I’m sure you’re used to this, there's probably a million times you’ve heard someone say something about me. Half the time I probably don’t hear it. 

“Can I have a grande espresso, two packets of sugar and a half cup of cream please,” You ask, you recite your order perfectly. And the barista scrambles to make sure your order is finished in a matter of seconds. 

“Anything else,” She asks while filling your cup. 

You turn to me. I look up at the board. 

“Just a blueberry muffin, thanks.” 

“Five dollars and twenty cents please.” 

I pull the money out of my pocket and count out six dollars. But you beat me to paying her. 

“It’s five dollars, it’s not that much,” You laugh. I pretend to be mad but I am relieved. I can tell you know. The dimples in your porcelain skin appear again and your lips curve upward. Your eyes glint. 

I’ve seen you smile hundreds of times. But now, I feel like I’ve known you from the moment I was born. 

“You’re my best friend, in the entire world,” I whisper. 

She smirks, and I know she’s about to start dancing. 

“Oh I know.” 

And for once, I forgot about what I did to you. But I know I’ll have to pay for it soon enough. 

I just didn’t know how soon it would be.