Hold Me Tight

(I was reading through some of my drafts on here and i came across this story. I thought the writing was pretty decent so I am posting it. I want to EXPLAIN that I wrote this a long time ago. I don't want to see any comments about Cheyenne and if anyone mentions her in a comment, I will have no choice but to block you from reading my blog. I'm sorry but she has been hurt multiple times by some of the comments on here and I'd appreciate it if they would cease. Any comment about Cheyenne from now on will result in immediate blocking.)
Kayla sat upright on her bed, holding a pillow between her knees and chest. How can Cheyenne be such a bitch? She said to herself while playing back the argument in her mind. Who does Cheyenne think she is? She has no right to get involved. She made a fool of me. How dare she?

Kayla refused to defend Cheyenne. That's what she's always done and it's only come back to punch her in the face. She felt like Cheyenne was walking over her, as if their friendship and respect for each other meant nothing any longer. She felt as if Cheyenne had given up on their friendship long ago. It wasn't a coincidence that Cheyenne only acted a certain way around Kayla. That certain way was acting like a bitch. Apparently, only Kayla brought that out in her.

How can she be such a bitch?

Kayla raised her head from the now damp pillow when a knock came from her bedroom door. "Kayla, i brought dinner." Fred said, using his don't-dare-tell-me-you're-fine-I'm-coming-in-anyway tone of voice. When the door opened and Fred appeared in the doorway with two plates of pasta, Kayla hopped off her bed to grab a plate. "Are you okay?" He asked, pulling up the mushroom chair to the side of her bed. "Everyone out there seemed to have forgot about you... I didn't think you'd come downstairs after what happened and i thought you'd be hungry... You are hungry, right?"

"Yes." She said, dipping a slice of french bread into the pasta sauce.

"That's good. At least we know you're not depressed now. Or emotionally damaged." His smile turned nervous.

"It doesn't matter. Tom has already forgot about it. He probably won't mention it and i'll have to pretend like it never happened." She paused before taking a bite of the bread to sigh.

"Well, Tom's an asshole. Did you see how he laughed at you? He didn't even defend you..." His voice trailed off as he shifted his gaze to his plate, motioning his fork in circular motions around a pile of spaghetti.

"I know." She muttered.

"Do you want anything to drink? I could get us a soda from downstairs." He started out of the chair and towards the door before Kayla could say, "No, I'm fine." He turned slowly and sat back in the chair.