Friday, November 11, 2022

It’s two months later when Fiona approaches me after practice. This time, we’re outside, away from people. A sweeping green tree shades us from the gleaming sun.

 “I need to talk to you, Audra,” she says confidently.

I look up from my phone, my heart sinking. I’d seen her coming but hoped she would just walk past me.

 “Ok, talk,” I prompt, trying to seem icy and unbothered.

Her brown eyes search my face for a moment before any words come.

 “What—” her voice catches. She takes a quick breath, then starts again. “What you did to me, that…hurt.”

 I stare at her blankly, hoping my stony expression conceals my whirl of emotions. I know I hurt you. I didn’t mean to become your enemy. But it’s too late. That’s my role now.

 “The day I told you, everything felt like it used to. I don’t understand why you turned on me—”

 I scoff. “Oh, you don’t understand that you ghosting me after making varsity didn’t feel great? You don’t understand that all your new fancy friends and their perfect talent took my place in your life?” With each rhetorical question, I advance a little closer to her. “You don’t understand that when I found out that you cheated your way there, it hurt? That it felt like you would do anything to get away from me, make varsity, and leave me behind? If you couldn’t figure that out for yourself, I really can’t help you.”

 We lock eyes for a few moments before she breaks the tension by averting her gaze to the ground. I follow her eyes down and watch her poke at a stick with the tip of her shoe.

 “I’m sorry,” Fiona mumbles. She looks up and speaks more confidently, “Audra, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you feel that way, but I acknowledge that I did and I’m sorry.”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” I mock quietly.

 “I am,” she says, her words void of any resentment. “And you just showed me what kind of person you are. That’s okay, we don’t need to be friends anymore. But I’m not going to hate you. It wouldn’t be right for me to hate you. I’ll love you from afar because I get it now.” She falls quiet for a moment.

 I don’t bother to ask what she “gets now.” I don’t care. I take the pause as an opportunity to leave, my ponytail flipping over my shoulder smoothly as I pivot. And I walk away from her.

Instead, be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you.

Ephesians 4:32

This flash fiction story was written by Jocelyn Ward. Jocelyn can’t remember a time where stories weren’t a part of her life. When not writing, Jocelyn can be found playing her flute, hanging out her family, or cuddling with her cats.