33: Franny (2/2)
I straighten up against the side of my open locker. ”I am happy it's just . . . shit I don't know.”
”I get it,” Tally says, and I glance up at her, catching her eyes, and nod.
Because she does get it. She always gets it.
”Okay, um, do you need stuff from your place?” I ask, then see the look on her face and give a soft smile. ”Or I can just let you borrow some clothes.”
”Yeah, let's go with that one,” she breathes.
”Alright,” I give a tentative grin and bump my shoulder with hers, ”we can stream some movies and get a huge bag of popcorn. And ice cream. And a ton of candy.”
”On a school night?” Tally fakes a gasp of shock and my grin widens.
The bell goes off and I sigh, shutting my locker. Tally groans out loud and drops her head back. ”Don't make me go to class. Please. I can't stand another second.”
I laugh. ”Come on. Learning awaits.”
”Learning can go fuck itself.”
***
Tyler's sitting on the bleachers during lunch. It's cold but he doesn't seem to care. I have my hands in my pockets to ward off the chill in the air. He's hunched over, elbows digging into his thighs and hands limply hanging over the edge of his knees.
His eyes dart around, watching the football players go through a brief practice. I walk over and sit beside him, but he doesn't acknowledge me. I glance at him before sighing and watching the football team as well.
”You miss it, don't you?” I ask.
Tyler doesn't say anything for a while until a gust of air escapes his lungs. ”Yes.” He clears his throat. ”Yeah. I miss it.”
”So what's stopping you?” I ask. ”From going back? Joining the team again? They'll accept you in a heartbeat. You know they will.”
He shrugs. ”I don't know. Myself. Probably.”
”You shouldn't stop yourself from getting something you want,” I comment.
Tyler frowns and turns towards me, hooking a leg over the bench of the bleachers. ”What do you want?”
”What?” I ask with confusion.
”What do you want? I never see you fighting for something you want badly. What is it?”
I shrug. ”I don't know.”
It's a lot of things. Stability. Normality. Tranquility.
All the -ilities.
But what's the point in fighting for it when I know I'm not going to get it?
”You're a hypocrite,” Tyler says. ”Telling me to fight for what I want, yet you don't.”
He softens the blow with a small smile but I just shrug again.
”Never denied being a hypocrite.”
”Never denied that you don't fight for what you want, either,” he says.
”That's because I don't,” I say. ”I stopped a long time ago. It got me nowhere.”
That's the thing about Tyler. He's as toxic as he is healing.
- Ellie x