here’s how I want a milquetoast breakup okay: they apologize for hurting each other and come to a mutual conclusion that they want different things. okay. this will be long and exhausting and they’ll probably bicker but at the end they do care about each other... maybe they can start over?
cue tail-end of a break up scene
...
“I just,” Mike heaved a sigh for the hundredth time this hour. “I really want us to be friends. We never really got a chance to be friends.”
Like a snowball rolling down a steep hill, their relationship picked up speed before either of them were ready. They had neither the time nor experience to brace themselves with when the weight of it came crashing.
El nodded. “So it was a mistake. We were a mistake.” Her eyes were rimmed with red and growing misty again. She tucked her chin down. This wouldn’t be the first cry of the day.
“No, no, hey! Not a mistake. Not at all. I don’t regret any of it. This is just... Life, I guess. Nobody is always doing the right thing.” He cringed inwardly at his lame speech and took El lightly by the shoulders until she looked up at him. “And just because we aren’t together together doesn’t mean I’ll like, hold a grudge against you or anything. We’re friends. We can be friends.” He said. El’s brows knit together in concentration; like she was solving a puzzle.
Mike continued, “Unless you hate me now. I mean, I mean if you hate me I guess that’s fair, but-”
“Mike.” A tear tracked down her cheek.
“Yeah?”
“Promise?” The word barely made a sound. “Friends?” Mike smiled down at her, brushing away her tears with the sleeve of his pullover. Sometimes he couldn’t believe this was the same terrified girl they found in pouring rain years ago.
She’d grown tremendously since.
Mike caught his reflection in the hanging mirror on his bedroom door. His face was red and blotchy, his hair a shaggy mess. But despite those things, he was proud of the guy in the reflection for the first time in memory. Even just this year, he’d learned many truths about himself-- what he wanted and didn’t want in this life-- El wasn’t the only one who had grown.
“Of course. Promise.” They linked pinkies like they were twelve again, giggling until Mike crushed them both into a much-needed cry-hug. “Can we start over?” Mike sniffled. When had he started crying?
“Start over?” El stepped back.
“Yeah. Like...” Mike held out his hand and put on his best introduction voice despite the warbly, weepy tone. “Hi, I’m Mike. Nice to meet you.”
El snickered. “Mike, I know who you are.”
“I know, I know.” He said. “Pretend you don’t.”
She raised an eyebrow, but shook Mike’s hand regardless. “Alright. Nice to meet you, Mike. I’m Jane.”
“Jane... Do you wanna be friends?” Mike said, hoping he sounded as earnest as he felt. She beamed at him. Her eyes glistened with the tears spilling over.
“I--” She gulped. “I would like that very much.” And like that, the atmosphere in the room brightened. Mike stood up straighter; breathed easier. It was as if a boulder had been lifted off his back. He could finally think with a clear head. El looked relieved as well, hunting around the room for tissues and trying to bite back a grin. Thank god, Mike thought, thank god I can still make her happy.
“Do you... Wanna go to the mall?” Mike asked.
“You will buy the ice cream?” El cocked her head at him expectantly.
Mike gave a sideways smirk. “As long as you hack Joust for me at the mini arcade.”
“Deal!”
They left the Wheeler residence talking-- honestly talking-- like they hadn’t seen each other in years. Making up for lost time. Mike learned a lot in such a short time. El apparently did Will’s math homework in exchange for him writing her English essays, she once drove the pizza van for Argyle while he was “out of commission”, and a few months ago she burned off a chunk of her hair with Joyce’s straightening iron. Mike felt like an idiot for not realizing how dynamic El had been this whole time. And kind of weird. In a good way.
At the food court, El peered over her scoop of mint chocolate, quiet for the first time since they’d left the house. Mike felt her eyes on him.
“What? Something on my face?
“No.” She fibbed. His chin was covered in Rocky Road. “I was thinking about something Max said. And since we are now friends, I want to know...” She leaned forward secretively.
Mike gulped. Mischief twinkled in her eye that he’d never seen there before.
“...What’s going on with you and Will?”
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A Japanese sensei died and someone posted something he wrote some time ago and my sensei shared it on Facebook. It was a post about how you should never disrespect your sensei cause he earned his title and sacrifices so much for the dojo, your training, his students in general and so forth. And sure, I get where he's coming from. But when my former sensei was still around, posts like that were one of the reasons I stayed silent for so long. Cause after everything he had done for me, my karate and the entire dojo for longer than I had even been alive, how could I backstab him and thus take every other student's sense away from them? That would've been so egoistic of me and wouldn't have anything to do with the humility, respectfulness, loyalty and all those other values that are part of the karate lessons.
I know getting rid of him was the right thing, but reading that post felt like a blast from the past. And some small part of me is still wondering if it really was the right thing. Our dojo has about 80 to 100 members. Is the well-being of one or a few more teenage girls really more important than everyone else's karate way? Cause unfortunately that sensei was a brilliant technician. Seriously. And also a great teacher with an incredible eye for detail. We usually had several people from our dojo on the national team during his days, including me. Our current sensei is amazing on a human level and puts so much into the dojo, but we don't even have people who go to tournaments anymore.
And sometimes I wonder how many people in the dojo secretly hate me and the other girls for stepping forward. I would understand.
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