Solidarity by Hayley Fields

She sits there, waiting in anticipation

"It'll be different this time," she tells herself as the boy she loves walks towards her.

He gets closer and closer as her heart beats faster and faster. With each step he takes the hold on her binder gets tighter. He's right in front of her now and she's panic stricken.

Who will start this thing off, she wonders untill she utters a faint "hey.."

He sees her as he walks closer. He's disgusted with all the movements she makes. All the things that made him fall in love with her now grotesque him.  He's right in front of her now, anger bubbling beneath his skin. He's ready to explode at any moment.  Hey? He thinks about how she'll try to win him back and he cringes. He thinks, <i>I'm in a better place now , and repeats it till he gets the courage to speak it.

Words start flying and the tension thickens. Words thrown like hand grenades, meant to kill whoever is in their path. Word by word they are killing each other but in the heat of the moment, they keep going. They take all they have ever know about one another and use it to their advantage.

Silence.

Neither know who got the last word in but it doesn't matter. Each word hurt just as bad as the next.

She starts to cry so he walks away. She's left in sorrow and regret. This talk she so desperately wanted, the one to change things, had blown up in her face. This rencontre had not only made things worse but it had broken the once impervious solider. The salty drops stop rolling down her cheeks long enough to realize tears wont solve anything. She knows its over and her opinion of him will be forever changed. She stands up, regains composure, and wipes the wet from her binder. The tears had soaked down into a picture she always carried in the plasic covering of her binder. It was a picture taken at a party, were they first met. She rips the picture violently and throws them away. Finally, alone and forgotten, she picks up the pieces of her broken heart and leaves the war zone she was still sitting in.

Walking away, he feels defeated. He was so sure of his hatred for her before but now he feels lonely and wrong. He begins to think of all the good times they had, then the word he spoke replayed in his mind. He thinks about what a jerk he was, then her words overcome his thoughts. She was just as insensitive as he, even if she was just keeping  up with his nonsence.

"She'll come back, she always does." He declares arrogantly. His eyes lead him the the staircase where he sees the girl who tore them apart. He smiles devilishly and his spirits rise.  He looks back to make sure she left and he sees her stumbling to her car. The ignition starts and shes gone.  "Good riddons," he utters. In his mind he plays out his next incounter with the forbiddin fruit walking down the stairs. He thens turns around to set his eyes on his Eve, but she is nowhere to be found. He looks around once more to realize nobody is around.  He feels hallow, alone and forgotten. It hits him; he finally feels the feeling she always talked about. His eyes drop to his feet and a familiar mixture of salt and water hit the shoes she got him for Christmas. He wipes his tears and follows his feet home. Nothing to look forward to or nothing to think about except his solidarity.