In the Absence of Light

25

Isaac 

Our conversation has ended, but I don't want to leave her. I have no idea what else to say to her. I'm just standing here, looking at her and hoping she'll say something to keep me here.

She looks awkward, though. She probably doesn't know what to say, either. I don't think she wants to be here. Her eyes are swollen, and her nose is red. I bet she'd rather be in bed than speaking to me right now.

Her apartment is busy as fuck, though. From here, I can see three movers taking apart a couch and Melissa digging through a pile of boxes.

At least she's the one moving and not Ivy. Erin told me exactly what happened. Mel was a dick to her. She fucking deserves to be kicked out. There's no way Ivy's the one that did it, though. She's so shy and sweet, she's basically an angel. I don't doubt that she can stand up for herself, but I really can't picture her kicking someone out of their home. Maybe she gets brutal in an argument. I'd definitely like to see that.

"I have something for you, actually," Ivy breaks the silence between us, but she seems just as surprised by it as I am.

"You do?"

"Yeah," she nods. "Wait here."

She walks back into her apartment, leaving me alone in the doorway. She turns to the left, into her kitchen. At least, I think that's her kitchen. I'm pretty sure our apartments are mirrored. Hers is way nicer than ours, though. Her furniture is all new and modern. Everything we own is second-hand and dirty with a bunch of stains we can't get rid of. Her whole apartment is cleaner. She probably has a crew come in to mop her floors and shit. We don't even have a vacuum.

Ivy comes back into my vision, this time with a small smile on her face. She's holding something in her hands. I immediately recognise one. It's American Football, the one I gave her. I don't know about the other one, though, but there's definitely two there.

"You didn't have to give this back, you know," I take the records from her. I have three or four copies of this album, so I really didn't need it back.

"Yes, I did. It's yours," she responds.

"Did you like it, at least?"

"Not really. I didn't like the guy's voice."

"Fair enough," I shrug. It's not for everyone. I just thought she'd like this one because it's just as depressing as the other shit she listens to. I glance over the other record. The cover is a photo of a woman standing in front of some floral walls paper. There's a white circle in the top left corner. The words Anna Burch, Quit the Curse are printed in it.

"This is my recommendation," Ivy tells me. "You gave me one, so it's only fair I give you one, too."

"Ah," I nod. "I'll give it a listen."

It doesn't look like anything I'd listen to, though. But she probably thought the same about American Football.

"Are you alright, Ives?" an older man comes into my view. I know who he is. It's Oliver Ferrari. He's dressed in a pair of slacks and a white button-up shirt, showing off the Ralph Lauren logo. I can see his biceps through the shirt, too. He's a big guy. He might have some grey hairs, but he might be able to beat my ass if he caught me off guard.

"Hey, Dad. Yeah, everything's fine," Ivy tells him. He joins us in the doorway, eyeing me up and down with a threatening scowl on his face.

"Who's this?" he asks.

"This is Isaac," she says. "He lives next door."

"What's up, man?" I nod my head at him. Am I meant to shake his hand? That's what rich people do, right? I don't fucking know. I'm not gonna do that.