I'm Sorry
Tears fall down my face as Laura confides in me, explaining what has happened the past couple months. Me, her best friend. Me, the person she can't live without. Me, the person who knows her virtually inside and out. Me, the person who accepted the excuses. Me, the person who was oblivious to what what happening. Me, the person who should have known what was happening the first time it happened.
“Shut up!” Laura laughs as we stand in line to get our picture taken for the year book.
“Next,” the photographer calls. I step up and sit on the black box set up in front of the gray backdrop. “Sit up straight, tilt your head to your right, and smile,” he says. I do what he says and give him my biggest smile. The flash goes off and I get up, blinking rapidly to clear the dancing stars from my eyes, as I walk out of the way to the door to wait for Laura. Laura is quickly seated on the box I just vacated. The photographer tells her the same thing, and soon she is done. She meets me by the door and we walk down the hall to the front doors.
“Did you see that guy behind us when we were in line for our pictures?” Laura asks with a certain glow emanating from her face. I shake my head, thinking back to who was in the line.
“I guess I didn't see him. Why? Who is he?” I ask, curious to see why she brought it up.
“His name is Marco and he's a transfer student. He moved from L.A.,” she says in a rush, her cheeks rosy with lust.
“You got all that from the minute it took me to get my picture taken?” I ask, shocked that she found out so much.
She nods, “I also found out that we have a class together, Science.” I pretend to listen as she goes on, wondering how she can be so confident with someone she just barely met. We reach the front doors and go our separate ways-- her to her mom's car, and me to my dad's.
I wrapped my arms around Laura, sobbing hard now, while her face is dry as a bone.
Months pass and Laura's and Marco's relationship slowly develop into a physical one. One day before school, Laura and I talk about her and Marco's relationship. “He's just so incredible,” Laura gush. I nod, thinking about my slight crush on him. When his jet black hair falls into his piercing green eyes combined with his bad boy essence that drives girls crazy. He's so charismatic that he's able to talk his way out of any trouble. “And well yesterday, we uh...” Laura begins to blush.
My mouth drops. “You did not!”
“Yea we did.”
“Wow.” I was lost for words. We are so young. I know Laura and Marco are in love, but it just seems like they moved too fast. I push the thoughts out of my head and try to be happy for Laura. “Tell me about it. How was it?” I ask.
“Well he was gentle and romantic. It was just incredible. There are no words to describe it,” Laura explains.
* * *
“You wanna hear something funny?” Laura says one day when we're walking to class.
“Sure,” I reply.
“Mrs. Matthews pulled me aside one day after class and asked me if Marco hit me,” she says with a glint of laughter in her eyes.
“Are you kidding me?” I ask laughing. Laura shook her head. “Wow. How stupid can she be?” I reply. I can't imagine Marco hurting Laura. She's so strong and Marco loves her so much. If anything did happen between them, Laura wouldn't let anything happen, right? That's just silly, they're going to get married, I thought. The bell rings and we both rush to class. “See you later,” I call to Laura as she opens the door to her class room.
“Later,” she calls right before the door closes and I'm caught up in the stream of frantic students trying to get to their class before the second bell rings.
How could I not have noticed the signs? Now, they're clear as day, I think to myself.
“Hey,” I say to Laura as I slip into my normal seat at lunch.
“Hey,” she answers, her eyes concentrated on the table, and continues to eat her sandwich.
I notice a bruise on her arm. “What did you do?” I ask, indicating the dark black and blue on her arm.
“Huh? Oh, I fell off my bed and whacked my arm on my bedside table,” she comments. I nod, accepting her answer for Laura is one of the clumsiest people I know.
“What am I going to do with you? I think we need to put you in a bubble,” I reply, laughing. She laughs along and takes another bite of her sandwich.
Tears fall down my face as Laura confides in me, explaining what has happened the past couple months. “He hurt me. He would hit me. Most of the bruises that blamed on my clumsiness were due to him.” Tears continue making rivers down my cheeks. “He not only hit me, but he would rape me too,” Laura goes on. I throw my arms around her and hold her tight, my tears dripping onto her shirt sleeve, making it sopping wet, while my shirt stays dry.
“I'm sorry I didn't notice anything. I'm sorry for being so self centered. I'm sorry for being such a horrible friend. I'm sorry that it happened to an amazing person, you don't deserve anything like that.” I continue crying, blaming myself for not noticing; blaming myself for not doing something to stop it; blaming myself for looking past everything I saw and heard. “I'm sorry,” I whisper in her ear one last time.
