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Breakout: Part II
Back to: Breakout: Part I Next: A New Connection
Breakout: Part II


The band wasn’t half bad. In fact, the guitarist was exceptionally good.

Nick cheered and clapped as the guitarist executed the move where she continued to play even with the guitar behind her back. He side-eyed Illyana to his right and saw her standing with no movement, staring forward and not knowing what in the world she was thinking. He used to be able to tell.

He noticed her hips began to sway back and forth with the beat, maybe the music was finally sinking into her. Maybe she even liked it despite the sound not being her preferred genre.


He turned to her and started shaking his shoulders, swinging his arms, and trying to encourage her into dancing along with him.

When she finally figured out what he was doing, she opened her mouth with surprise and made a dismissive gesture over the loud music. Though, something happened to her face in that moment that was highly amusing and kind of cute.

He belted out a laugh before leaning in toward her ear so she could hear him and said, “You’re blushing.”


As he pulled away he saw the red in her cheeks intensify before she covered them with her hands, “It’s…I’m not blushing!” she shouted over the music, “It’s just…hot in here!”

He reached out to one of her concealing hands and eased it away, taking it and leading her away from the front of the crowd, “Well then let’s get you out of this fray so you can cool off!”


To his surprise, she didn’t act like his touch was that of a leper. She maintained a hold on his hand through the crowd until they reached the back of the venue where they found a vacant sofa. Illyana sat down, still red in the cheeks and Nick leaned against the wall to give her space and to study her.

She was staring off again, like before, like she wasn’t really looking at anything in particular. She was probably still in shock from hearing about his grandmother's passing. He still held a sting of grief in heart from the loss, and probably always would but knew being sad about it wouldn't hep the situation. He had been close with Kimmy. Still though, he found this behavior of Illyana's so very atypical. She was usually loud, fiercely opinionated, combative, stubborn, and particularly hostile to those she perceived to have wronged her. Especially Nick. He had no idea what he had done to deserve her ire.

Maybe we aren’t friends after all,” echoed in his mind after she stormed out of the Laundromat. The words had made him pause to consider because it had seemed like such a long time since they hung out one-on-one. He had assumed, until that day, they still were friends in some capacity based on their history.

He nudged her leg so she would make room for him on the sofa. She acquiesced and scooted over.

“Ill?” he asked.

“What?” she snapped, reacting harshly to the shortening of her name only he had ever called her by. He made her name sound like a sickness when he said it like that. She came out of her stare, dragging her lively brown eyes over to meet his with a frown.

“Why aren't we friends anymore?”

She squirmed a bit, thinking of how to say it, and crossed her legs. He thought he saw the color in her cheeks pick up some more hue.

“Probably because you and the guys started the band.”

He looked taken aback, “What do you mean? We still went to the arcade and hung out; we were still friends after the band started!”

Her gaze was steady “You stopped being you. After the band, you became this arrogant jerk that tried hitting on any girl that would talk to you. You constantly blew off our plans to instead hang out with Cypress. You just stopped caring about anyone but yourself anymore. Not even an hour ago you expected me to drop everything and give you a ride here, even though you were grounded, with no consideration to whether I had plans or not.”

As she spoke her voice raised in volume, pitch and speed as her frown got deeper and deeper.

“And then after months of radio silence, you tell me that I sound like tortured cats when I play my music. Do you know how crushing that is to hear? Do you even know why I started playing guitar? I thought maybe we would have something in common again, maybe you would let me join your band, but no. You’re still immature and conceited and that’s why I stopped trying to be your friend.”

Illyana turned her whole body away from him as if was he was the most disgusting creature on the planet.

And he felt like it.

What she described...it was familiar. It was who his father was. If there was one person in the world he didn't want to ever be like, it was his father. So this was how she saw him?

He always thought what they had as of late, was intense yet playful banter, but she really was revolted by who he had become. He bowed his head, at a loss for words and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling ashamed.


“You’re right.”

She uncrossed her arms

“I am a jerk.”

She side-eyed him.

“I’m...sorry.”

Her frown softened.

“...can we be friends again?”


She folded her hands into her lap and contemplated his question. He’d never sounded so sincere before. He took her hesitation for a definite maybe. He could redeem himself. He stretched, pulling his hands behind his head with a smile, “After all, we sure have had some good times.”

She smiled wistfully, seeming to pick out a few choice memories in her mind, “Like the times we went camping in your backyard and you got so scared of the wind blowing tree branches that you had to go indoors.”

“Or the times we played shoot out and you kept losing because you were too short to reach the hoop, so I had to lift you so you had a fairer shot.”

She actually popped a giggle at remembering that. He felt his smile broaden.


They ended up spending the rest of the show at the back of the room, reminiscing about their old friendship and laughing at fond memories, over the sound of folk metal.

Click Next: A New Connection to continue...

 
Back to: Breakout: Part I Next: A New Connection
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