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“I can’t believe this,” Eddy gaped.

“Did you think you were gonna change my mind on this?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. All I know is that I think you’re one of the most special girls I’ve ever met. I was more than willing to try to change your mind.”

“I’m sorry, but you can’t,” I replied.

“Okay.”

He left. I grabbed my book and started to bend it. I hurled it towards the wall and violently kicked the desk to the floor. I couldn’t believe that Eddy tried to make me end my feud with Jacob because he wanted to be in a relationship with me. I felt that was selfish on his part, and he seemed to forget what Jacob did to me. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to be with Eddy, and he had good intentions, but my hatred for Jacob trumped everything else in my life.

Later that day, I was at home. I saw my mom reading from a tablet while she sat on the couch in the living room. I kind of wanted to get juice from the kitchen. I was still angry at what she said at the graveyard. Which, by the way, was about the worst place she could have chosen to have a heated argument with me.

“Hi, honey,” she said.

“I’m getting fruit juice. There’s no need for chit-chat,” I replied.

“Okay.”

I got the juice from the kitchen and realized I didn’t want it. I needed someone to talk to. I already knew what Vivian would have said regarding my situation. I needed someone different. I knew exactly what type of person my mom was, but I still wondered what she had to say. I went back into the living room and sat down next to her. She perked up.

“I don’t want juice. I have a question for you,” I said.

“Okay, sure. What is it?”

“I’m still mad at you. So, after we talk, just keep remembering that I’m mad at you and don’t try to be nice,” I warned her.

“Okay, honey. I understand.”

“Okay, so I don’t exactly know how to say this, but I’ll try. Would you forgive someone who did something really horrible to you? Like, very horrible, diabolical, and evil. I know how you are now, but there must have been a time when some girl tried to steal your boyfriend and you proceeded to slap her and pull her hair,” I said.

“Well, that never exactly happened.”

“Okay, whatever, but what would the pre-oh-my-god-I-forgive-everyone Michelle do if someone did something horrible to you?”

“Can I tell you a story?” she asked.

“Is it long?”

“It’s from a time when I was in high school,” she added.

“Oh, god.”

“I had a nice dress that I wore to an awards ceremony for excelling in mathematics. After it ended, I left the auditorium and began to head back to class. Everything was normal as usual, but then, out of nowhere, a guy came running in my directionand bumped into me. You’ll never guess what happened next,” she said.

“I’m not guessing.”

“He had a bottle of chocolate milk that was open, and he spilled it all over my dress. I screamed and cursed him out—I caused a big scene,” she asserted.

“And you cursed? That must have been a hundred years ago,” I commented.

“He was very sorry, but I was still very upset. I think I even made him cry a bit, and then I stormed off,” she said.

“Wow! You made him cry? Good for you, Mom. That’s great,” I exclaimed.

“No, not great. Afterwards, I felt terrible. I regretted everything.”

“You shouldn’t have regretted anything. He was a complete donkey.”