experiment (a story in four parts).

part iii.

"Linden..." I had to control everything inside of me to keep my eyes from widening when I saw her.

She hadn't been to my house in months; hell, we hadn't even made eye contact in school since our fight at her locker.

Did I want to see her? talk to her? Of course I did. I wanted more than anything to grab her by the shoulders and shake her back and forth until she realized what she was doing to me. Even then, though, I knew her brain would detach and shake around loosely in her skull like a gumball in a machine before she would open up about anything, or even let me open up about anything.

"Hi," she said. I felt a breeze hit my cheeks from the outside. I was frozen - I didn't know whether to let her in or not. I only looked at her, expectantly, waiting for her to state why she was at my house.

Back in our prime, when she showed up past 11 PM, it would be a "booty call," but now... I wasn't so sure. Especially after the silently-agreed-upon no talking rule was put into place between us.

"My uh," she cleared her throat. "My stepdad is spending the weekend at my house and he doesn't let me smoke," she laughed awkwardly, lifting her pack of cigarettes, clutched in her left hand.

I hesitated. "What about your friends' houses? Or your, um, boyfriend?" The mention of him would always make me tense, even after all the nights I spent plotting his murder in my head to put myself to sleep. 

"Well all my friends went to some senior's party tonight, but I didn't go because I didn't feel like it, and Grant's mom doesn't let me smoke at their house, either," she said, still standing pateintly on my welcome mat.

I bit my lip. So Grant  was Mr. No-Name.

I didn't want to let her in, but her eyes were sparkling like they always did when she used to kiss me, and she looked so expectant... I couldn't say no to her, nor could I ever.

"Alright," I said, stepping to the side to let her in.

"Thank you so much, Marina, you're a lifesaver," she said, stepping inside the house and making a B-line to my back door.

I watched her through the glass of the door, taking a seat on the chairs outside and pulling out a cigarette.

I sighed and bit my lip. I missed her, and the more I watched her smoke on my patio as she always used to, the more I was realizing that.

"Hi," I said breathily, pulling the door open and sitting next to her.

She glanced at me briefly, "Hey."

Smoke clouded the yard in front of us. I watched it drift forward and dissipate into the dead grass. The same place where we'd had our first time together, I remembered. 

"How have you been?" I asked awkwardly, making sure to keep my distance from her.

"Fine," she answered, then added, "I like your underwear."

My frown turned into a blush as I realized my sleep shirt had risen up my thighs a little bit when I sat down.

"Sorry," I mumbled, pulling my shirt down a little bit.

"Don't be sorry, it's hot," she took another drag of her cigarette. "Plus, it's not like I haven't seen them before."

I stared at the side of her face, but she didn't bother to make eye contact with me. What was she trying to do to me?

I never expected, since the day of our fight, for her to show up to my house acting so... civil ... as if we were still friends. I figured if she was ever going to utter a word to me again, that word was going to be one of distaste. But look at her now, acting like the "split" never happened between us.