Sorry

The loneliest people are the kindest. The saddest people smile the brightest. The most damaged people are the wisest. All because they do not wish to see anyone else suffer the way they do.

-Unknown-

"Do you have any plans during the break?" Andrew asked as soon as I picked up the phone.

After an hour of aimless wandering, I decided to give my aching feet a break by sitting on the park's frozen swing set. The park was void of people at this time of day with most, if not all, the adults working, and the kids... well, who needs the outdoors nowadays?

And it has been painstakingly cold for the past couple of days. So cold, in fact, that everything was covered in a layer of snow, making the entire town look like some kind of gingerbread town.

But I wasn't in the mood to go home.

I wasn't in the mood to do much of anything, honestly.

"So... no 'hello' then?" I teased as my feet dug a small hole into the ground.

"Fine," he sighed, "Hi,"

"Hi,"

"So do you have any plans during the break?" he asked again, his voice uneasy.

"God, no," I replied, "Why do you ask?"

"Up to doing something good for society?"

"Depends," I kicked myself off the swing, my butt feeling sore, "Is it something dumb like those tap lessons that you made us do last summer?"

My mind decided that the best thing to do was to torture my feet by walking around the park, instead of sitting around and letting myself freeze.

I headed towards the jogging trail, a secluded area surrounded by tall, snow covered trees. The ground, which was a mixture of snow and dirt, crunched beneath my feet; one of the many joys of winter.

"They might be helpful one day," he replied defensively, "And how is that doing something good for society?"

"I don't know," I shrugged, "You only have the one hook,"

"Hardy har har," he said sarcastically, "But it's for real this time. I promise,"

"Alright," I said, "Shoot,"

"Do you know that you can volunteer your services at the hospital?"

"The one that your dad works in?"

"That's the one,"

"And what are we supposed to do there?"

"You know," he said casually, "Volunteer,"

"That narrows it down," I snorted

"Well," he continued hastily, "It has something to do with helping patients and their families with a lot of things; like giving them directions, getting their wheelchairs, stuff like that. Pretty much getting them used to the hospital environment,"

So people who are in it for the long haul, I mentally added.

"I don't know..." I said as I thought of his offer, "I'm not really good with people--,"

"Neither am I," he interjected, "Come on, my parents are making me do this. And I really hate going to these kind of things alone,"

"Like that other fancy event that you made me go to?" I asked, referring to the reunion with his father's side of the family, "Come to think of it, you do owe me a lot of favours,"

"I am aware of my crippling debt," he retorted, annoyed, "But you do owe me for letting you win a lot of our conversations,"

"That can't be helped," I joked, "I'm just that good,"

The trail went on and on, showing no signs of an end. This park must have been bigger than I thought. Bored of the straightness of the path, I decided to veer into the forest of trees. The trees, luckily for me, weren't that close together, making it easy for me to walk through.

This has got to be the shortcut, I thought as I ducked to avoid a low branch.

"Pretty please, Holmes?" he begged, "It's going to look good on your résumé,"

"Using the résumé card, are we?" I asked, feeling myself giving in, "Fine, I'll go,"

I never understood my inability to say 'no' to this boy. It was as if he's some kind of kitten that you never want to disappoint.

And there was also the 'he's your only friend' card.

"And it's mostly because you said pretty please," I added, wanting to hold my dignity intact.

"Thank you!" he replied, practically screaming in joy.

"Your parents sure make you do a lot of things," I remarked, "All of which you hate. Why can't you just tell them that you're not interested in these things?"

My question may have, according to most people, crossed the line.

But it was the truth.

His parents forced him into doing a lot of things; basketball, Mathletes, chess, you name it.

All in the name of getting him accepted into an Ivy League school.

"Because I hate arguing," he said, "And they're probably for my own good anyway. How often does one get to expand ones résumé without even trying?"

"Quite often," I argued, "Everyone lies on their résumé,"

"They do?"

"Your naiveté is adorable,"

"I know," he said simply, "I've got to go. My dad's beckoning me to his study,"

"Sounds pretty serious," I said, stopping to lean against a tree, "He never lets you in his study,"

"Right?" he said as a stern voice was heard in the background, "Got to go, bye,"

---

Night has fallen and I was forced to return, having nothing else to do and nowhere else to go.

The large Victorian house loomed over the end of the street, its walls a pristine white, its garden decorated with fairy lights, giving the place a rather magical feel.

Pretty ostentatious if you ask me.

I removed my boots as soon as I walked in, not wanting to alert them of my presence. I can just imagine their reactions;

"Kristen! I was worried sick! Where have you been?" Lena would say whilst handing me a mug of hot chocolate.

My father on the other hand, well...

He'd probably just stand there, not knowing what to do.

Ensuring that the coast was clear, I quickly ran up the stairs and headed towards my room. A sigh of relief escapes me as soon as I shut the door behind me.

I made it, I thought.

I removed my gray beanie as I laid myself down on the floor, admiring the glow in the dark stars that I have pasted on the ceiling.

"I should leave the lights off more often," I said to no one in particular.

A knock came on the door not a few minutes later, startling me out of my trance.

"Come in," my voice squeaked as I sat up.

My father poked his head in as he slowly pushed the door open, a crooked smile decorating his withered face.

"That's a rarity," he said, his voice hopeful, "You would usually tell me to get lost,"

"Don't get too comfortable," I replied tonelessly, "I have a motive,"

"Oh?" he said as he treaded towards the study table only a few steps away from me, "And what would that be?"

I watched him as he straddled the chair, his movements slow and calculative. He was no longer the young, adventurous man that he used to be.

The twinkle of his once bright green eyes were long gone, his jet black hair has greyed with age and his tan... well, the man's as pale as Edward Cullen.

My father, the man that I once knew, has now been replaced by some old, small town lawyer.

A practical man with a practical wife and a practical house.

How practically boring.

"I'm going to be volunteering at the hospital pretty soon," I informed, avoiding eye contact.

"Are you asking me for my permission?"

"Nope," I answered, "More of an FYI,"

"Alright," he said wistfully.

"Are you here for something?" I asked, ignoring his tone of voice.

I will never, in a million years, forgive him, I reminded myself.

"I am," he smiled, "I've been talking to Lena,"

"I'm surprised," I replied sarcastically, "What have you been doing all this while? Neighing like horses?"

"Kristen," he warned.

"Fine," I sighed, waving him on, "Continue,"

"And she was thinking that we, as a family, should maybe go on a trip together,"

"For us to bond?" I asked incredulously, "No way,"

"Can you just give her a chance--," he said as his face crumpled into a rueful grimace.

"She's not the problem here," I interrupted angrily, "You are,"

"How am I--,"

"You gave up the rights to being my father the moment you walked out on us,"

"Kristen," he sighed, "That was ages ago. Aren't you ever going to let it go?"

"No," I said, my voice brittle, "You do not have the right to say that. You had no idea what it was like living with a mother who began to shut down as soon as you walked out. A mother who was too busy clamouring over her first love that she forgot about the existence of her own daughter.She cried herself to sleep every single night. Did you know how painful that was to hear? How useless I felt?"

I paused to look at him, to see the look on his face as I told him the truth.

"And God only knows the number of times that I had to bring her over to the emergency room because of her slitting her wrists every now and then. I tried giving you the benefit of the doubt. Believe me, I tried. I was obviously oblivious to the fact that you were too busy shacking it up with your new lover that you forgot about your only child! So forgive me, mister nice guy for not 'letting it go',"

"Kristen," he stammered, covering his mouth with his hand, "I-I had no idea,"

"Of course you didn't," I spat, "As far as I'm concerned, I have no parents,"

"Kristen,"

"I'm partially impressed with your ability of saying my name," I said, my voice hoarse, "But if you've got nothing to say, you might as well leave,"

He hesitated for a moment, his face filled with sadness and uncertainty. His mouth kept opening and closing as if he was trying to come up with the right words to say. This went on for a while before he finally gave in and decided to walk out of my room;

"I'm sorry," was all he could say as he paused at the door, his back facing me.

"Well, 'sorry' isn't going to bring her back," I said coldly, "Nothing will,"