The Final Project

Chapter 50

Ava

My mind is filled with mountains, some with pretty views, and others too dangerous to climb. Liam used to have the most beautiful mountain, tall, and green. The most luscious fruit grew on his mountain, and the songbirds would chant the most beautiful of hymns. But one fateful day, that mountain got struck by lightning, and it crumbled to the ground. It's ashened now, bleak, and dead.

"So, do you play football as well?" I ask as I sit on the kitchen stool. Jason's making his lasagna, a pungent smell in the air.

"Mhm." He adds some sort of spice into his bowl. "Better than Liam too. He just got lucky, getting the quarterback." I grin, nodding in agreement.

"How long have you guys known each other anyway?"

"Since the beginning of the year. Got put together as roommates, so didn't really have a choice," he shrugs.

"Speaking of your roommate, where is he anyway?" I look around, and Liam's nowhere in sight.

"Oh, he left when you were showering." Jason goes into the fridge to get more ingredients, not specifying where Liam went. I don't know why I'm even asking.

"Did he go to a friend's house, or I dunno, like his girlfriends..." Too obvious. Too obvious. Jason chuckles.

"Liam doesn't do girlfriends."

"What do you mean?"

"Liam hasn't been in any college relationship. He probably just went for a drive or something." A sick part of me feels relieved that he doesn't have a girlfriend, but another part of me is confused.

He said he kept his promise, so how can he not have a girlfriend? Maybe he wanted to let me down easy. Maybe he felt so bad that he couldn't tell me the truth. And somehow, that stings a lot more.

"Wanna help?" Jason asks.

To distract myself, I walk to the kitchen counter, and start dicing onions alongside him. Hey, at lesst this'll hide my fucking tears.

And after the initial surge of anger, inevitably comes sadness. I keep stabbing into the onion, wishing my thoughts away. I'm just sick. Stab. And tired. Stab. Of being led on. Stab. By this jerk.

The front door opens, and in walks the jerk in question. I stab the onion harder, the knife pricking my finger, and the pain shooting up my arm. I just can't seem to catch a break.