Ruled, ᴘᴇᴛᴇʀ ᴋᴀᴠɪɴsᴋʏ

Aftermath

PETER

I don't really know how long it's been. I watch the days go by through my window as I remain motionless in bed where it's safe and warm and where nothing bad can happen. 

Mom tells me everything is going to be fine but she doesn't know that. It's something all mothers say to make their children get out of bed and shower for the first time in a week. Plus, she's sad as well, I can see it on her face, and that makes it a hundred times worse. Owen on the other side doesn't quite understand the complexity of things so he just comes in to hang out or he used to before he stopped because ''Your bedroom smells like sewage.'' If it does I can't tell, my nose has grown used to it and I'm okay with that. Really, my room smelling bad might be the only thing I'm okay with. 

I pause the movie on the computer on my lap to check my phone. I don't know why I still do it. It's like she's vanished. She's gone but I'm not blocked. I know because I've checked so on an app that made my Instagram account send weird messages to all my mutuals. That was hard to explain. 

I have thousands, yes, thousands of unread messages on the lacrosse team group chat but I never find the energy within me to read them so I just let them pile up. It's become a fun hobby watching the number grow and at this point, I'm just excited to see where it can go until my phone finally gives up. 

With Rita, I have zero and that is not a fun game. The little energy I have throughout the day I spend crafting messages to her that end up deleted because the fear of being rejected is greater than the pain of not knowing where she stands. I've done a fair share of hurting for her and I can't do it anymore. I can't afford to see my messages being read and not answered. She asked for time and space and even though It might actually kill me from heartache I'm going to give her that.

I still have a glimpse of hope that she's doing the same: Typing messages that I never receive, and that's probably why I haven't actually died from heartbreak: Hope.

Hope that it is not the end. 

I'm scrolling through her Instagram where pictures of us still remain like we're still happy and well when my phone begins to ring, which causes me to accidentally answer. 

''Finally!'' It's Isaac. He sounds relieved more than he sounds mad which he should be because in the past week I've completely ignored his efforts to talk to me. I couldn't bare to watch him watch me with pity in his eyes. ''I'm coming over.'' 

''You can't'' I say immediately. 

''Why?'' 

''I'm not home.'' I lie and instantly feel my stomach turn. Why am I lying to my best friend? ''Actually, that's a lie. I'm home.'' 

''Good. I'm there in five.'' 

He hangs up before I can say anything else and I'm glad he doesn't let me deny myself of his company when I need it. Desperately. Maybe more than I ever did. 

I wonder if he knows. He has too. Not from me but from Rita. She has to have talked with LJ and by the way things flow LJ has to have told Isaac. I want to be with him but I don't want to talk about me and Rita and how she essentially dumped me after everything I had to go through for her.

Shit. 

Maybe I'm pissed. Clearly, I am but I am also too aware of things to know that I shouldn't be. Should I? Maybe it's best if Isaac knows and asks me about it. 

''Dude.'' The door slams against the wall behind it, making me jump back to reality to see Isaac standing under the door frame with his hand on his nose. ''What died in here?''

I chuckle. Wow. It feels good. 

''Do you know?'' I ask. 

''Kavinsky I'm not helping you bury a body.'' Isaac slams the door shut and proceeds to open both windows, completely careless about the thunderstorm outside. ''Better.'' 

''You don't know?'' My eyebrows arch and so do his. 

''About?'' His nose crunches up as he smells a dirty t-shirt above my desk before throwing it on the pile of dirty clothes he's forming on the carpet. ''You and Rita? Yes but I'm not here about that.'' 

''Good,'' I say without being sure It's what I feel. 

''Don't you have any clean clothes to pack?''

''Pack? Why do I need to pack?''

''We're going to Vegas, bro.''

....

RITA

''Take care of his diaper, will you hun? I need a shower!'' Mom tells me as she essentially drops my brother on my lap. A strong whiff of literal crap engulfs my nostrils and I'm nearly gagging. Aiden on the other side finds it insanely funny. Thankfully there's a knock on the door and I gain a reason to postpone changing his diaper, making it future Rita's problem. Even if that future is probably five minutes from now.

I place him on his space-themed play carpet and give him a cold chew toy for the bursting teeth, which he immediately starts ragging on. But hey, better bite on the toy than on my fingers.

I can see dark hair through the door's colorful but small stained glass and I already know who it is before I open the door. 

''Why aren't you ready?''

''Because I'm not going LJ'' I tell her and she closes the door before coming in. 

''What? It's spring break!'' She shrieks like I've said something unholy. ''It's Vegas.'' I carelessly plot onto the couch and Lara Jean sits down on Aiden's carpet with him. Her nose crunches up for a second only, she doesn't seem to mind the smell much because she picks my brother up on her lap after. I squirm because I can hear his diaper's content flood around inside.

''Thomas is away for work and my mom needs help with Aiden. Plus I'm not in the mood to party.''  I tell her and I wish I hadn't because she immediately forms that face. PITTY FACE. I hate that face.

''Have you made a decision?'' She asks lowly. 

I glance into the distance. If I've made a decision? 

Love shouldn't be this hard. Especially at our age love is supposed to be light and calm and easy and everything nice. With me and Peter, it's all far from that. It's like the more we pull toward each other the more the universe wants to keep us apart and I hear that loud and clear. Peter and I aren't supposed to be together. I get the message. I hate it but I get it. The fact Peter had to date another girl to be able to be with me should be enough for us to understand that we're not it.

But that's the thing. Peter did that for me. Not for him but for me and us. He had to go through hell to be with me and for me to get the lead on a stupid play I don't even want to do anymore because It's become completely obsolete and a burden in my life. Such a selfless act can't go to waste. Such good love shouldn't go to waste. We're good at love and we're good at being together. It feels right so why does it always seem so wrong?

Me. Probably. I've been the selfish one. That's a tough apple to bite on and it takes time to come to terms with. Realizing you made a mistake. Realizing you should have chosen one love instead of another. Peter instead of acting. I didn't realize it before but that's not what I needed to do. I needed to choose Peter over acting on Gigi. Only. Choosing Peter didn't mean not acting forever. I was blind by a newfound love and praise and it came to bite me in the ass. I was unfair and selfish and Peter is the one who should have walked away. Not me. I had everything.

Maybe this time the universe didn't do it. I did it to myself. Maybe the universe had nothing to do with any of this and it's always been our own doing. I always blame the universe because it's easier than blaming myself but deep down I know the universe has far more to worry about than a couple of young humans who don't seem to make it work. 

If I've made a decision? 

Love shouldn't be this hard but I shouldn't make it harder. 

The past week I've given it a lot of thought. I needed this time to think and recollect my ideas so I don't regret it. It's time I let myself choose love, I hope love is still waiting for me.