Than to Have Never Loved at All

Label Maker

I shut my bedroom door, which was usually against the rules in our house, but I assumed my dad would give me some leeway considering this conversation was going to be more like war talks than a solicitation at a brothel.

I walked to the center of my room and planted my feet. My aunt spoke strongly of a powerful foundation, and I would do anything at this point to keep myself upright during what was sure to be an emotional beatdown.

"Okay," I said. "Lay it on me." I would stand and take the chastisement I deserved. I stared at the floor a few inches from Keegan's feet and tried to dissociate into the void.

"I was curious," Keegan started. He sounded neutral. Of all the things that could have shaken my solid footing, his civility was probably the most effective. I was expecting rage. Nat would have come out punching if something like this had happened to me or Finn, but Keegan wasn't taking that route. He looked intrigued and only a little uncomfortable. "I was curious about why you and Clinton broke up," he finished.

He began to fidget. He put his hands in his back pockets, then his front, looked at the floor, then at me. His eyes were dark and dead earnest.

The lump growing in my throat restricted my breathing.

"He said you had a list?"

So Keegan already knew. Asking me was just a formality. I burnt with shame. I could feel heat radiating between my skin and my long sleeved t-shirt, tears at the back of my eyes. Clinton probably told Keegan everything, just like how I usually told Finn everything.

"I did," I managed to wheeze. I couldn't exactly deny it. "It was wrong, and I'm sorry. I was really, really wrong."

"You had a to-do list, like a homework project?" He stared at me. I bit my lip and held back tears. "You know that's not okay?" The way he said it was subtle, but it still felt like a punch to the gut. I came up gasping.

"I know. It was horrible. I... I don't know what I was thinking," which was a lie. I knew exactly what I was thinking, it was a calculation. I just hadn't calculated far enough ahead to factor in one thing; Clinton Carter. I already wanted this conversation to be over with. I was miserable, and before this very moment, I didn't think I could feel any worse.

Keegan saw right through me. He chuckled humorlessly and said, "It sounded like you were using Clinton to write a good One-Act. Like a science experiment."

I looked up in surprise.

Before I could fumble out a response, Keegan asked,

"And?"

"And what?"

"And did you get what you wanted. Do you think our script is any good?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I said.

Keegan shrugged.

"Oh." I licked my lips. Did he really want to know? "Honestly-" I stammered, trying to reel in any of my several flailing emotions. "You've read our stuff. It's fine. Anyway, I don't think I could write anything good. I've recently been toying with the possibility that I'm a raging sociopath."

Keegan snorted, then shook his head sadly.

"You're not a sociopath," he informed me. "Probably."

He paused for a minute.

"I mean you look pretty genuinely miserable to me."

I didn't believe him and I didn't know what to say.

"Did you fall in love with him?" Keegan asked after awhile. He took a button out of his pocket and started flipping it over and over between his fingers. A nervous twitch I was a little envious of.