smile ; ch

eight

evie

calum slept against the window of the car so i turned the music down.
when he kissed me i didn't even know how to react, because it made me angry and hateful towards him but at the same time made me realise the thing i've been missing in my life for the past year and a half.
i missed him, and i missed his lips.

"cal, we're here." i park in his driveway and softly nudge him, when he wakes he's still slightly out of it.
"are we at mine?"
"yep." i keep my seatbelt on.
"t-thanks." he unbuckles his seatbelt and opens his door, stepping out. "are you coming?"
"uh, no, i'm just gonna call an uber or something."

calum scratches the back of his neck and looks at the time on his phone.
"it's pretty late, i don't really want you catching an uber on your own."
"that's not up to you."

i unbuckle the seatbelt and get out of the car, i throw him his keys and go to stand on the footpath.

"evie, come on. it's one night, just come in."
"no, cal, i'm going home."
i hear him sigh and walk over to me, "what would my mum say if i let you catch a dodgy uber at 3am?"
"she'd probably say you shouldn't of fucked another girl in evie's bed, and i'm sure she'd understand."

thunder and lightning cracks through the sky, and i shiver at the cold. it was fucking sunny all day and now all of a sudden there's a storm, great.

"touché, i'll sleep on the couch. it's freezing, come on." he starts to walk back up to his front door and i pull out my phone, seeing the nearest uber would be a 25 minute wait.

"you coming?" he asks again, and i sigh, walking up to him at the door.
"i'll sleep on the couch."
"no worries."

cal tries to open his door but his hands still shake, now probably from the cold. it's painful watching him.
"fuck!" he yells, slamming his fist into his door as the keys had dropped to the ground. veins protruded from his neck as he turns from the door.
"it's okay, i got it." i place a hand on his back once i've picked up the keys. i unlock the door with ease, and i enter his house first.

the hallway has all his awards and art along the table, a key bowl and a pack of marlboro reds.
"i'm sorry for yelling." he apologises, throwing his keys into the bowl.
"it's fine."

the house wasn't as messy as i thought it would be, and it feels homely.
"i really like the paintings."
"yeah uh, ashton and i did them."
"aw." is all i could squeak out.
"i'll go get some blankets, you can have the bed."
"it's honestly fine-"
"don't." he says as he starts to walk into the laundry. i sit on his couch and see the weed tray, a few beer bottles on the floor and an old kitchen scale.

he brings out some blankets for himself and throws them on the couch, "i'll show you the room."

i follow him down another hallway until we reach his bedroom where more art hung on the walls, more awards and an old piece of paper stuck above his chest of drawers.
"what's this?" i ask, getting closer to it.
"its that letter you wrote me when you went on your family trip to adelaide."
"you still have this?" i turn to him, and he doesn't respond, making the bed. i turn back to it to read what i could see

i miss you sweet boy, all i see here is you. there's so many things in adelaide you'd love, i love you! i miss you. i love you baby. love love love you.
see you soon xo evie

it's like a car crash that i can't turn away from, but i eventually do when i feel my heart start to ache at the love we used to share.

"all done, if you need anything you know where i'll be."
"thanks, cal."
"shirts in the top drawer if you wanna borrow one, bathrooms through here." he gestures to a closed door.
"do you still have that brain dead shirt?"
"yeah, will be in there somewhere."
"thank you."
"to the couch." he says, starting to leave the room.
and i can't let him sleep on his couch in his own house, i can't do that again.
when we lived together and things got bad, he slept on the couch every night until i'd seen him fucking another girl in my - our - bed.

"cal?" i say just as he's about to leave the room.
"yeah?" he leans against the doorway.
"you can stay in here, just no touching." and there's no reaction on his face.
"you sure?"
"mmhmm." i say, opening his drawers and finding the shirt i bought him after his first stadium gig.
"okay, well i'm just gonna get some water."
"okay."

once the doors closed, i peel my dress off and same with my docs, throwing them in a pile next to the bed. i move the bathroom, and put his shirt on. i look at myself in the mirror, what the fuck has your life come to?

i wash the makeup off my face and when i look back into the mirror, cal is looking at me from the bed.
"take a picture, it'll last longer." i joke but he only slightly chuckles.
"might actually be a good idea, you know."
as i rub my face with a towel, i look at him to see if he's being serious.
this is a contract, after all.
"go for it." i say, and he grabs his phone. he slowly comes into the bathroom, and as he does i watch every step.
"keep the towel like that." he says softly, so i keep it as if i'm still rubbing my face.
i feel his chest press against my shoulders, and he puts one hand on the sink next to my hip.
his chest encloses over me slightly, and he holds his phone up, ready to take the picture.
"look at me in the mirror." he says, and the tension grows between us.

his mood seems demanding but flat, exactly how he'd be if we got into a fight and neither of us was ready to apologise. which is on brand for right now.

"ready?" he asks, leaning his chin on top of my head.
i find myself leaning back into his chest without realising and i feel that comfortability start to crawl up from my knees.
i hear the camera click sound and he moves his phone in front of me to show me. i put the towel down, taking the phone; his other hand finds it way to the sink so i'm trapped between his body and the sink.
"looks good." i say, looking up at him in the mirror.
"post it."

with one big final breath he presses off my back and i watch him walk back to his bed. i press post, and take the phone back into his room to put on the bedside table.
"you okay?" i ask him.
"just go to bed."
"okay." i climb into bed, i'm always on the left side.
thunder strikes through the room and i jump slightly, i've never been the biggest fan of storms or rainy weather. however, new york hit different when it was cold.

"it's fucking freezing." he groans, rolling to face me.
"yeah." i say absentmindedly, looking at the features on his face.
"can you turn the light off?" he asks, so i lean over and turn the bedside lamp off and go back to my position, facing him too.

i listen to his breathing, imagining myself 3 years ago telling him stories and playing with his hair.
"are you cold?" he asks me, shifting under the blanket.
"very." i squeak, and i can feel myself crumbling.
"well that's too bad." he says monotonously.

i reach forward and place my hand on his shoulder.
"no touching, your fingers are like ice!" he flinches and i laugh.
"well that's too bad." i mimic.
"you're going the right way for some warmth."
"that didn't even make any sense." i say, moving my hand down his arm until i find his hand.
"warmer."
"nope." i squeeze his hand and he opens his palm for me to cold.
"i thought you said no touching."
"penguins huddle for warmth, right?"
"we aren't penguins, evie." he chuckles, "but if you want a cuddle, i'll do it."
"what happened to hating me?"
"i don't hate you, well, only sometimes."
"right now?"
"a little, but that's only because you're holding my hand."
"i'd hate you more if you cuddled me." i whispered.
"pretty sure you hate me enough." he inches closer, and i feel his hand on my waist.
"there's always room for more."
"would you hate me if i kissed you right now?"
"you're not kissing me, cal, we're friends that are cold so we're gonna cuddle."

that's enough for him to move closer until i feel his breath on the tip of my nose, his chest pressed against my neck and his arms around my ribs. his knee moves between my legs and i suck in a quiet breath at the feeling.
"we're not friends, evie." he says tiredly, kissing the top of my nose.
"we're not dating, either. so don't kiss me."

the room goes silent for a minute, and i feel his breath slow, but before i could determine if he was asleep or not, i finally heard him speak.
"evie?"
"what?"
"did that kiss before really mean nothing to you?"
i take a while to respond, and i hold him tighter, i know i have to lie for this to work. i have to lie. i can't feel anything for this guy ever again, he broke my heart and didn't give a fuck about me at all when he found a pretty thin line of white powder and the bigger boobs.
"it meant nothing, we're over, cal. there's no coming back from what you did." i whisper, feeling tears brim at my eyes.

with one motion, he rolls back onto the other side of the bed.
he doesn't say anything else.