A girl who remembers too much.
Anne point of view
The auditorium echoed with the fading applause, or lack thereof, as Rick stumbled off the
stage, his shoulders hunched like a shadow retreating into itself.
I watched him go, a knot twisting in my chest noticing how he looked sad, the kind that feels
like regret woven into every breath. The science fair buzzed around me, but the whispers
started almost immediately, slithering through the crowd like venomous vines.
"Did you see that? He could barely get a word out without shaking."
"Yeah, total disaster. Why even bother presenting if you're gonna choke like that?"
The words hit me harder than they should have, igniting something fierce and protective
inside. Before I could think, I spun around, my voice cutting through the murmurs like a
blade.
"Shut up! All of you! He worked harder on that project than any of you lazy idiots ever have.
If you can't say something decent, keep your mouths closed!"
The room fell silent, eyes wide in surprise. It shocked them, and honestly, it shocked me
too.
But one of the privileges of being the popular girl is that no one will want to argue with you.
Some girls whispered that it was strange to see me defending that nerd, but I ignored them.
And some men just agreed with me, trying to approach with friendly smiles, but I couldn't
care less.
At that moment, my decision was crystallized: I wasn't willing to lose him again. Not this
friendship, not this piece of my past that still felt like home. I had to talk to him, at least try to
bridge the gap I'd created.
I bolted from the place, heart pounding, scanning the hallways and then the rainy grounds
outside.
There he was, standing in the downpour, lost in his thoughts.
I stepped closer, tilting my umbrella until it covered him more than me, letting the rain soak
my shoulder without a second thought. Then I bowed deeply, because the apology
deserved nothing less.
The words spilled out before fear could stop them.
"Rick, I'm so sorry. For everything, for pushing you away, for pretending you didn't matter,
for letting other people decide who I should care about. I was wrong. I've been wrong for a
long time."
My voice catches a little, my body trembling, as a rush of emotions filled me in.
He looked stunned, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, curiosity, maybe even
hope. I straightened up, rain pattering around us.
"Do you... want to walk with me? We could talk, if you're okay with that."
He hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Okay, do you want to go to the beach?”
We started walking, the rain easing into a misty drizzle as we left the school behind. The
path wound through quiet streets, and I knew I had to be honest, no more hiding behind
excuses.
“And why do you want to talk with me?” He asked with a weak voice. “And why did you ask
for forgiveness?"
"Because you deserve that, Rick. I’m sorry for distancing myself from you like that.”
My hands curled into fists, knuckles tight, until a sharp sting pulsed up my arms,
punishment I probably deserved.
“I pulled away because… because people said you were weird. And I was too much of a
coward to stand up to them. It was stupid. I should’ve remembered what actually mattered,
but I didn’t…”
The memories hit hard, me laughing with people I barely cared about, choosing empty
friendships over the one person who ever truly mattered. The more I thought about it, the
more I hated myself for it.
“To be honest, it was exhausting… always hearing them bad-mouth you, always trying to
defend you and, somehow, defend myself at the same time. And the worst part is…” My
voice trembled. “You never asked me to do any of that. You never made me choose.”
I drew in a shaky breath, meeting his eyes at last.
“But that was my weakness. My cowardice. I should’ve talked to you. I should’ve fought for
our friendship instead of running from it.”
He was quiet for a while, processing his expression a mix of hurt and understanding.
He didn't yell at me or show anger. Neither did he immediately say anything kind; he was
just deep in thought.
Before I knew it, our steps had led us toward the beach, the salty air growing stronger. But
as we approached, the shore was packed, families picnicking, kids splashing in the waves,
tourists snapping photos under the emerging sun.
Too many eyes, too much noise for Rick.
"Let's take the long way around," I suggested, and he agreed.
We veered off the main path, skirting the crowds by following a winding trail through
overgrown dunes and rocky outcrops.
The terrain grew rugged, leading us to the jagged rocks that separated this beach from the
next, like nature's own barrier between worlds.
We climbed carefully, the sea crashing below in rhythmic whispers, salt spray misting our
faces. It was nice to walk side by side with Rick again after so long.
Finally, we reached a small grotto, hidden in the cliffside, a secret alcove carved by time
and tide that no one else seemed to know.
Sunlight filtered through cracks in the rock. We sat on a smooth boulder, the world outside
fading into irrelevance. Here, in this abstracted haven where time seemed to bend and
emotions could flow unchecked
"Aprentely this place remains empty, so we could make this our spot again," I said softly,
glancing at him. "A place to talk, to be real again."
He smiled faintly, and for the first time in years, it felt like we were starting over, not as
strangers, but as the friends we'd always been meant to be.
“Okay, we need to talk,” he said leaning in closer to me.
“Okay, no lies then,” I responded and we naturally turned around, pressing our back against
each other.
It was a small ritual we used to do when we needed to talk honestly.