Melted

Chapter 5

I didn't see Peter at all that day. He never stopped by the ice cream shop, or by my house, and didn't even text me. It wasn't right for me to be upset, but I was. Who was avoiding who? Was it actually me avoiding him because I couldn't see him the same? No, he had to be the one avoiding me. But why? Was it because of me leaving him, or was it that girl? My head was overwhelmed with meaningless questions as obviously overthought the situation.

"Brijit, sweetie, you okay?" Mom asked, knocking lightly on my door. I groaned and rolled over in my bed, entangled in my sheets. At six o'clock the night before, I flopped down on my bed and hadn't moved since. My head hurt, my eyes stung, my chest was heavy, my throat burned, and my stomach twisted in abnormal ways. If I didn't know any better, I'd say it was heartbreak, but I wasn't dating anyone. Maybe it was like friendship breakup, because that's a thing. Besides, breaking up with a friend is much more painful than with a boyfriend.

"I'm fine, I'm just tired," I told her. She thought I was lying, I could see it on her face. I probably was lying, to her and myself. I just didn't know what was wrong with me, and I didn't want any awkward Mom speculations.

"There's a boy here to see you," she said, closing the door quietly as she left. I shot up. What? How could she ambush me like that? I threw on some clothes and makeup before racing downstairs. Was it wrong for me to be so excited?

I opened the door and smiled at Peter. He smiled back, and it was the most awkward moment of my life. My mom stood just ten feet behind me, and I could feel her eyes staring. Peter looked like he wanted to say a thousand words, but couldn't. Neither could I. Nothing came out of my mouth.

"Hi Peter," I forced out of my throat. I stepped out onto the front step, closing the door behind me. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you. That's all. If this is a bad time, I can go," he said, starting to turn. I grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"Can we talk?" I asked. He nodded and waited for me to say something else. "Not here. I know a place."

Peter followed me to Maria's. Neither of us said anything on the way there. I wondered if he could tell what I was thinking. Did he know that I knew about his family? About the lies, and the girl? I was so pissed, even though I had no right to be. We slid into a booth at the dinner, seated across from each other. He quickly picked up the menu and feigned interest in the meals.

"Peter, can we please talk?"

"Sure, that's why we're here, isn't it? That's what we're doing now."

"Cut it out. You're being overly sarcastic, and it's just a defense mechanism. You don't have to have walls up around me." Peter eyed me suspiciously. Had I said too much? He was going to figure out that I knew.

"There has been something on my mind recently. It's a long story, if you don't mind listening." I nodded, predicting what came next. Peter told me everything, his dad, his mom, Andrea, but left out the lie about him moving here, and didn't once mention that other girl that I cared way too much about. He told me about how he came home to find his mom passed out again, but Andrea wouldn't answer. He turned to me, but couldn't reach me either. It was just anxiety, he promised, and that it would never happen again.

"You already knew all of that, didn't you?" Peter asked. I furrowed my eyebrows, poorly faking confusion and shock.

"What? You just opened up your entire life to me. Who else in the world would know all that?" Oh god, I was a horrible liar.

"Andrea told you, didn't she? Damn it!" Peter raised his voice, slamming his fist on the table. Talk about hot temper.

"That's not all she told me," I said quietly. Peter instantly stopped. He stared me in the eye, challenging me. His chest rose up and down with every heavy, angry breath he heaved. "I know you've lived here for a long time. Maybe your whole life."