Rose Bridges

Forty one

Carmen

I carefully run my pink highlighter over information that I think could be possibly relevant as I try to start preparing for the semi-finals in a few months.

Never too early to prepare.

I should be working on my history paper due next week, but I already have half a draft done so I'm not too worried.

I'd rather be doing this anyway.

Plus we have the day off school tomorrow and I'm bored.

The sound of the doors opening makes me lift my gaze.

Amanda, Layla, Julie, Alex, and Chanel all come walking up to me.

My eyebrows pinch.

Why are they here?

I don't really talk to them anymore.

Haven't even eaten lunch with them ever since I left with Zara to go eat at the library that one day.

My anxiety picks up and I straighten my posture.

They stop in front of where I'm sitting.

"We want to talk to you," Amanda whispers.

My eyebrows lifts. "About what...?"

"Just please listen to us," Julie whisper yells.

Other people in the library are starting to look up at the group of them standing in front of me.

"I don't really want to discuss this with any of you-"

"Come outside so we can talk to you please," Amanda says, cutting me off.

My eyes dart between all of them and I keep my posture straight and face stoic. Maybe they're ready to apologize for the way they've spoken about my boyfriend. And me. "I'm going home right now. I have to go feed the dog so make this quick," I say rather plainly as I pack of my stuff and walk in front of them and to the outside of the Boston Public Library.

Once we're outside, Amanda speaks up first.

"Listen, we just wanted to say that you're our friend and us being concerned about who you date is just us being worried."

My chin lifts up slightly in the air and my back is as straight as a board. My arms cross over my chest. "Oh really?" I ask rhetorically. "So you saying rude comments about my boyfriend is deemed as okay to you?"

Amanda groans, seemingly annoyed. "Carmen, there is a difference between being mean and just the plain truth. Okay? Why can't you get that? You're so sensitive and take everything to heart-"

I lift my hand up to stop her. "No," I stop her. "I'm done. I'm not letting someone tell me I'm sensitive again." I can feel the emotion rising in my throat, but I swallow it. "Amanda I have been told that I am too emotional my entire life. Your boyfriend has called me every name in the book and claims I'm just too sensitive. And you know what? I am a sensitive person. But there is a difference between being sensitive and simply not wanting to let people get away with saying things that you know deep down is wrong," I tell her seriously.