“I guess so,” I replied blankly, and Liza sighed.

“You suck Ashums.” she said in a tired voice and I simply shrugged. “Can’t you just get over her? Can’t you just move on?”

I turned to Liza at this, giving her an even, cold gaze.

“Jesus Ashley! It’s not normal! Three years and your still bent on the same girl! The world is full of people! We’re going to college soon!” she yelled, throwing her hands into the air, and I laughed. I opened my mouth wide and laughed in her face. She was confused.

“Like you have room to talk,” I said between chuckles. She just frowned. “Don’t think I don’t know why you did it Liza.” My voice was calm and she fidgeted in her seat. “Don’t think I didn’t see right through your little plan.”

It was quiet for a moment and I took the time to sit upright in my seat. “And don’t you dare think that I’m going to forgive you. But I do understand”

And that was it. I was done, and she was speechless. She reached into her lunch bag and then decided against, ruffling it up and stuffing it beneath the seat. I tried to be hard about it, to just be angry with her, but her face was too much. She turned away from me and all that i could see was her dark mane of hair, with blue streaks dyed into it. Her shoulders shook some and I knew that she was crying, and probably for me. I took her hand in my own and pulled it up to my mouth, kissing it softly.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, and that was it.

The next two days went by quickly. Liza tried a little less to soothe me and tried a little harder to stay away. I missed her, I must admit, but it was better for the both of us. Besides, we were in rehearsals endlessly anyway, always reworking and scratching lines, finding new ways to approach our characters, fine tuning the show.

On opening night I wasn’t worried in the least. The past few months had taught me an outward calm, anything to ignore the war raging inside of me. I straightened my hair for the show and giggled some when Liza’s jaw dropped when she saw me. It was very different from my usual curly locks. My mom had even convinced me to bleach a patch in the front a bright red, It was cute really, the way it laid flat against my forehead and swiped my eyes.